1 - Noble Son, Entrust

“Achoo!” she sneezed.

Nem wondered for a moment if perhaps she’d caught a cold. But then she remembered that she was in a purely fictional realm made up of quantum information. If she was sneezing, it couldn’t be from a cold. She covered her mouth in a moment of delayed embarrassment.

“Someone must be talking about you,” the man sitting in front of her said, gazing at the ceiling.

He was tall, with pointed ears. At a glance, one might call him a very handsome man. But that sticky-sounding voice of his, a perfect match for the dank limestone cavern around them, made it hard to think of him in that way.

“Surely you don’t believe that old cliché...” she said.

“No, no. In the game, you see, when the AI determines that a certain account is being discussed, it forces the avatar to sneeze.”

“Th-They really programmed that into it?” she asked.

“Isn’t that fun? NaroFan’s balance is pure ass, but they put a lot of effort into pointless things like that. I love it, personally.” The man rolled the words out leisurely, but Nem had no idea what he was talking about.

The game’s designer, planner, and general manager of the design team, president Azami Nono, was a friend of Nem’s alter ego, Megumi Fuyo. Sometimes, when they were talking about her game, she’d boast about all the little silly things she’d programmed in based on old superstitions, like “whenever you sigh, your luck stat goes down.”

Nem’s only experience with computer games had been the Tamagotchis she’d obsessed over as a child. (When a friend she’d worked so hard to raise had died, she’d gone crying to her father about it.) But every time they talked about things like that, she wondered if such design was necessary to make the game fun.

“Now, Miss Nem, was it?” The man leaned back in his seat, as if to proceed to the main subject. “Our guild house’s location isn’t available to the public... I wonder if you have a connection to the developer.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I was told that you were the most knowledgeable player in the game, Mr. Matsunaga...”

“Ah, no need to apologize. That is true, after all.” The man smiled and spoke in a way that made it hard to tell if he was serious or joking.

The information-gathering guild, the Dual Serpents, was one of NaroFan’s three great guilds. Matsunaga the Elf Scout was their leader. Matsunaga ran a NaroFan general information site that collected strategies and internet gossip about the game, and Azami Nono herself had told her that his ability to extract information out of the game astonished even the developers.

“Now, let me see,” Matsunaga began, smoothly, before Nem could even think of how to broach the subject. “I know that you started a quarrel with Mr. Tsuwabuki’s guild... Now, don’t act so startled. You see, even if I don’t do anything, I always seem to end up with information about him. My information network is always active around him lately.”

“From what I’ve heard,” he continued, “you bear no grudge against Mr. Tsuwabuki. So I’m very curious as to what you came all this way to ask me.”

“Yes, well...” Nem’s eyes wandered to the eerie green torchlight within the damp cave. The creepy, dungeon-like atmosphere of the place seemed to be draining all of her initiative away.

She couldn’t let things go on like this. Nem took in a deep breath, calming herself and regaining her presence of mind. It didn’t matter where she was, or who she was dealing with. This was basically a business deal. She was the president of a new business herself, and the daughter of Eikei Fuyo, demon of the economic world. This wasn’t her first time dealing with a crafty old veteran.

“I wish to prove that my taste is not incorrect,” she said.

“Ah... hmm.”

Nem had thought she was expressing herself clearly, but Matsunaga’s response was a listless one. She didn’t appreciate that.

Nem was a fashion designer in the real world. You couldn’t get by in her world without good taste, and she took great pride in hers.

Yet, a few days ago, something had happened to shake that pride.

“You have a lot of time on your hands, don’t you?” Matsunaga asked.

“My time is valuable, and this matter is important enough to me that I have chosen to allot some of that time to it,” Nem retorted, unfazed by the needling in Matsunaga’s tone.

She wasn’t sure just how much he knew about her, but partly in the interest of sorting out her own feelings, Nem decided to explain the circumstances.

Nem’s real name was Megumi Fuyo. Her father, Eikei, was the president of Tsunobeni, Co., one of Japan’s biggest trading companies. She was friends with Azami Nono, the creator of Narrow Fantasy Online and president of the company that ran it, Thistle Corporation. Since she herself was unaccustomed to online games, Azami had provided her with a number of accommodations and advantages.

Nem had begun playing for one reason.

It was only one reason, but it was difficult to explain in so many words.

First, there was the matter of Ichiro Tsuwabuki. They knew each other through their parents’ businesses, and they had grown quite close by way of that. When she had been struggling, torn between her position as sole daughter of a large trading company and her dream of becoming an apparel designer, he was the one who had given her advice and spurred her onward. Though he might not have actually remembered that now...

Ichiro was a strange person, in many respects. Even Megumi, whose father had concerns about her naivety, was aware of that much.

It was clear that he had excellent aesthetic sense, and yet he showed no interest in things that most people considered “good.” That was why, no matter many “good” things Megumi made, his evaluation was always, “I suppose it is good, from an objective point of view,” but he never offered his own opinion about them. For a time, she had just given up, deciding that that was just the kind of person he was.

What had re-lit her passion as a designer was an incident that had taken place just a few days before, at a ceremony she had held for her new boutique.

Ichiro had come, proudly displaying a rather clumsy silverwork butterfly on his chest. The material had looked like real silver, but the design had been utterly lacking in subtlety. In fact, it had been quite cheap-looking.

Ichiro was eccentric. And of course, he had never shown interest in things that most people considered “good.” Even so, he had never once worn an accessory that would invoke the words “tasteless” or “childish.” Even from the perspective of what “most people considered good,” his aesthetic sense was on point. He had good taste.

That was all the more reason she had been so shocked when he had appeared wearing the aforementioned brooch.

It was both tasteless and childish. It looked like the work of a designer who lacked the experience required even to be called a novice. Megumi simply couldn’t understand. Why would he wear something like that? But she knew that if she asked him, his reply would just be, “Nonsense.” So naturally, her curiosity had shifted to the brooch’s maker.

Iris.

It was only by chance that she’d happened to learn that this was a person he knew in a game, not in the real world. She didn’t know this person’s age, or whether they were really a male or a female. She had a lot of questions, but she knew it would be rude to interrogate him about it any further.

She had wanted to meet this person who could make designs that Ichiro Tsuwabuki liked, just once. So she’d made a rather unreasonable request of her friend, and had started playing the game.

“If you don’t mind my asking...” Matsunaga had watched, with vague annoyance, as Nem told her story. “...what exactly do you like about Mr. Tsuwabuki?”

“Ah?”

“Well, I can understand his being generally popular with the ladies,” Matsunaga said. “He’s handsome, wealthy, powerful, and smart...”

“Ichiro’s true qualities are not so superficial,” Nem said stiffly.

“But his personality... ah, never mind! Anything else I say will just sound like the jealousy of the perpetually rejected. Now, let me see...” Matsunaga waved his hand as if to wipe away the question. “Anyway, here’s what it comes down to: Iris’s designs are bad, and you can’t stand it. Right? Yes, yes. So, let me see, hmm... You want to prove that your taste is correct. In other words, you want to show her up.”

Matsunaga spoke the words in a rush, as if to make her forget the earlier subject. Even so, his next statement hit the bullseye.

“You basically want to put a scare into Iris, right?”

“Yes... yes, that’s right...”

“I see.”

Matsunaga sounded understanding, but Nem found that it sounded surprisingly frivolous when put into words like that.

“I see. I like it,” the man before her said, with a nasty smile unsuited to his elegant features. “Well, I’ll have to have a chat with my allies before I decide whether the Dual Serpents will assist you. We do love our drama. I can’t guarantee that we’ll aid you, but still, I rather like the proposal.”

“Wh-What do you mean by that?” Nem stammered.

“You want to get her back, right? You can’t accept it, right? You can’t stand that a man who won’t acknowledge you acknowledges a girl who isn’t actually any better than you. I like it.” Matsunaga grinned. It felt like he could see right into her heart, and she didn’t like the feeling one bit.

“An inferiority complex is a precious thing. Oh, I beg your pardon. First, Ms. Nem. Don’t you have a job? I’m sure you can’t stay here forever.”

“Y-Yes...” she said. “If you don’t mind, one more ten-minute meeting, perhaps...”

“Very well,” he said. “I don’t mind. If you come tomorrow at the same time, I can introduce you to some people who will help you. How you use them will be up to you.”

A stark change from his bored attitude earlier, Matsunaga had suddenly become very cooperative. Nem wasn’t sure whether that was something to be happy about or not. Seeing Matsunaga suddenly so full of enthusiasm was, quite frankly, causing her skin to crawl. But to express that openly would be very rude. She should just be grateful that he had understood her intentions and had offered to help.

“Mr. Matsunaga, we still haven’t discussed your compensation for helping me...” she began.

“Oh, I don’t need compensation,” he said. “I’ll help you because it’s fun. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t. Although, actually... if you do insist on repayment, I’d like you to design some new outfits for our Shinobis.”

Matsunaga stood up as he spoke. Nem thought she saw some movement behind him, but she couldn’t identify any more than that. Her current perception stat wouldn’t allow her to detect the Shinobi Army when they had their obfuscation Skills activated.

Instead, Matsunaga’s words caused her to remember a certain phrase. They were words Ichiro had said to Nem when they first met in the game a few days before.

“This game is quite fun.”

Nem had understood what the words meant, of course, but not what he had meant by them.

And so she rephrased those words to this man, in the form of a question. “Mr. Matsunaga, is this game fun?”

This was the man’s answer:

“There’s no such thing as a game that isn’t fun. There are just people who aren’t fun to deal with.”

“You don’t look like you’re having any fun,” Iris said as she gazed at Felicia, who was resting her chin in her hands on the table, sulkily.

Ichiro, on the other hand, was enjoying the tea that Kirschwasser had made with his usual gusto.

He cast a glance over at Felicia, then said, “It’s nothing to be concerned about. She’s always like this when Chunichi loses.”

“Chunichi?” Iris asked.

“The Chunichi Dragons!” Felicia shouted as she struck the table with both fists.

“Ahh, you’re a fan... Are you in the baseball club at school, Felicia?” Iris asked.

“I’m in the softball club! Darn it! What was that match yesterday, Iris?!” Felicia exclaimed.

“What? Me?!”

Felicia’s nostrils flared as she went on to rant about the narrow defeat over Nagoya’s proud dragon army, and the coaching of their manager (who was apparently neither Hoshino nor Ochiai). Of course, Iris could only unravel about half of what she was saying.

The past few days, Felicia had been stopping by the Iris Brand guild house nearly every day. Iris had assumed she was coming to see her second cousin Ichiro Tsuwabuki, for whom she seemed to have a great deal of affection. This, incidentally, was something that Iris could not understand in the least, but it would be impolite to speak ill about another’s taste, so she never told her this.

“I’ve heard she’s their ace pitcher,” the silver-haired Knight, Sir Kirschwasser, said as he brought them tea.

Naturally, he was referring to Felicia. Iris recalled having heard that she was in middle school.

“Is that true? That’s amazing,” Iris said. Although she was aiming to become an apparel designer in the future, Iris had never shown any particular propensity for anything, herself. She genuinely found it impressive to hear about someone having the talent to be called an ace in a middle school club.

Iris’s show of genuine surprise seemed to improve the simple-minded girl’s mood a little.

“Heh heh heh, it’s nothing, really!” Felicia giggled.

Correction — it seemed to improve her mood a lot.

“We didn’t make it to the prefectural tournament this year, but we’re working hard for next time! I’m training with my coach right now to develop my miracle pitch,” she said proudly.

“O-Oh, really? A miracle pitch, huh?” Iris didn’t know much about baseball (though softball was the sport Felicia played) so she didn’t really know if a “miracle pitch” was something that could be achieved in reality. Even so, she nodded at all the polite places in the conversation.

“But is it all right for you to be playing a game, then?” she asked.

“I was told to use the sensations in the game as a way to visualize a sure-kill miracle pitch,” Felicia said.

“Sure-kill?” Iris asked. “You’re going to kill them?”

“Well, getting struck out is basically like dying, so sensation-wise, maybe I am.”

“Hmm...” Iris had her drawing tool application open, idly working on some designs with a cup of Kirschwasser’s tea in the other hand. She glared at her work. She had been working on armor designs, but none of them seemed to be coming together.

“Felicia, what do you think of this one?” she asked.

“Let me see!” Felicia cried.

Iris wanted Felicia’s opinion, since she was likely the one closest to her own age. Felicia got behind Iris and glanced over her shoulder at the line of image files in the drawing tool.

Iris made a change in “Settings” to “grant control to other users,” which allowed Felicia to touch the holographic panel with her fingertip and scroll through freely. Iris was on pins and needles as she waited for the reaction. After a while, Felicia offered her opinion.

“Ah, hmm, umm... not bad...”

In other word, not good.

“I see... So I need more training, huh?” Iris let out a big sigh as she closed the drawing tool. Her luck points declined.

“I like your sense of style, personally.” Ichiro, who had previously been browsing the internet in silence, shot that off casually.

Iris narrowed her eyes and glared at the young heir. “Having you be the only person who likes them doesn’t make me happy. Well, it did make me happy, but I can’t let myself be satisfied with that. Understand?”

“Of course, I understand that, based on what you are seeking, the approval of the public at large would be more important than my own,” he said. “I find it praiseworthy that you are not satisfied with my approval alone, but voraciously seek even greater heights.”

His usual roundabout way of saying things caused Iris and Felicia to lean in close, pressing their heads together. Their red and white hair brought out a truly striking contrast.

“That’s a compliment, right?” Iris stage-whispered.

“I think so,” Felicia replied. “Itchy can never be straightforward.”

“I hear you,” Iris agreed. “He’s straightforward about what he wants to do. He just gets there in a twisted way.”

“Though you’re not very straightforward, either, from what I can see, Iris...”

It was uncertain if Ichiro could hear what they were saying — of course, his intelligence and perception stats made it unlikely that he couldn’t — but his expression remained cheerful, regardless.

“But what shall we do next?” Kirschwasser asked, standing at attention behind Ichiro.

“What do you mean? Do we have to do something?” Iris asked.

“We do not have to, but...” A wince appeared on Kirschwasser’s face. “In the few days since you returned to NaroFan, we have been sitting around in the guild house, yet we have had roughly three customers each day, all of whom have done nothing but come and gawk.”

“Ugh...” Iris groaned, interpreting this as a knock at her talent.

Iris Brand was a crafting guild, with Ichiro as guild leader and Iris and Kirschwasser as members. The series of incidents surrounding Ichiro and Iris’s chance meeting had propelled them to immediate fame, but the skill of their lone crafting player, Iris, couldn’t keep up, and the spike of interest had quickly died off.

As a crafting guild, they should be producing and selling items. And since they were in a game, the main thing a player needed to produce items was the relevant numerical stat. Iris’s level in the relevant Skill, Create Armor, wasn’t especially high, and the items she created with it weren’t exactly stunning. Put more bluntly, they were crap.

Most people typically never even thought to pursue original armor designs because of the microtransaction cost that came with them. But at Iris Brand, the young heir Ichiro Tsuwabuki could use the brute force power of his pocketbook to mass-produce new designs. From start to finish, the crafting guild Iris Brand’s appeal was rooted in gimmick play. Thus, it wasn’t going to get much attention from the general class of players, who were mostly interested in leveling up and furthering the game’s plot.

Instead, the type of customer that Iris Brand was aiming for was those who obsessed over their avatars’ appearance, prioritized roleplaying, and otherwise fit the description of “actors.” But the mediocrity of Iris’s designs meant that she was failing to attract those sorts of players, as well. The result was a constant feeling of embarrassment, from Iris, about her own lack of ability.

“Thus,” Kirschwasser continued, “I was wondering if we might leave Glasgobara and go off somewhere else for once.”

“Somewhere else?” Iris asked.

“You mean, to level up?” Felicia added.

NaroFan was an MMORPG, after all, so that was, of course, the standard method of enjoyment. Raise your level, become stronger, and challenge tougher enemies. But while Kirschwasser was a gamer, he was also an adult. He had not seemed like the type of person who would attempt to force that method of enjoyment upon others.

“What about a trip to the beach?” the old Knight asked after clearing his throat.

“The beach?” Iris echoed.

“Sir Kirschwasser, I see you haven’t yet given up,” Ichiro commented.

“Why not? You won’t take me IRL, after all.” It was rare to see the elderly Knight pout so. “By ‘beach,’ I mean the Manyfish Beach they opened for summer vacation. It’s on the eastern side of Starter Town. There are no dangerous monsters there, as long as you stay on the shore. It’s just there for players to enjoy themselves.”

“Ohh...” Iris mused, staring up at the ceiling. If there were no monsters, then maybe she could rest easy. “The beach, huh? I’m not sure if I’ll get to go to one this year, so it might be fun to go in the game.”

“And it seems the area’s release has unlocked exclusive swimsuit ‘equipment,’” the Knight added.

“Oh, I saw some in the Forging Guild’s guild house,” Iris said. “There must already be recipes for them, right?”

The crafting guilds of Glasgobara Merchant Town, with their open-air stalls, had recently started selling flimsy pieces of clothing that did not seem like they would offer much in the way of defensive abilities. Iris had thought it was appropriate to have swimsuits, given that it was summer, but she hadn’t realized they were associated with a specific area. The sight of someone standing there in flimsy fabric in a world of bulky armor made of metal, ore, leather, and scales would be an especially striking sight.

“Hey, Iris. Design swimsuits!” Felicia cried, leaning over Iris’s shoulder.

“But we were just talking about how my designs weren’t very good...”

“Huh? We were?” Felicia said, confused by Iris’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Indeed, I never said such a thing,” Sir Kirschwasser agreed.

“Yes, nobody ever said that,” Ichiro added.

“Oh, yeah! I just misunderstood and started to get depressed in my own head, didn’t I?” Iris asked.

Kirschwasser and Ichiro’s agreement caused Iris to bite her lip and strike the table with her fist. It was true that no one had said that.

“Well, Iris, I’d like a flower pattern!” Felicia cried. “Something kind of mature!”

“F-Fine! I’ll handle it!” Iris said.

The word “impulsive” did exist in Iris’s mental dictionary — in fact, the entry took up about thirty pages. It was certainly a very encouraging prospect, given her doubts about her abilities minutes ago.

“What about you, young heir?” she added. “Do you want a swimsuit?”

“I have a bit of personal business to attend to tomorrow, so I won’t be accompanying you.”

“Oh, I see. Is it possible you can’t swim?” Iris was attempting to needle him a bit, but he wasn’t fazed.

“Nonsense. When we assemble at Great-Grandfather’s house for New Year’s, it’s customary for us to have swimming races in Kagoshima Bay.”

“That’s just Cousin Mazza trying to start a rivalry with you...” Felicia murmured.

Iris didn’t understand what “long-range swimming in Kagoshima Bay on New Year’s” meant, but Felicia had supported it, which meant it must have had some element of truth to it. And from the way Ichiro talked, even in swimming capability, he was the one perceived as a rival by others.

“Hey, Iris, did you know?” Felicia asked. “Itchy is friends with the dolphins of Sakurajima.”

“I don’t know how to respond something that fantastic...” Thinking idly that the dolphins also needed better taste in friends, Iris turned her gaze to the other man in the room. “Mr. Kirsch? Do you want a swimsuit?”

“I’ll pass, as well.”

“Oh? Will you be accompanying the young heir tomorrow?” she asked.

“Well...” Sir Kirschwasser said.

Felicia tensed up nervously.

The silver-haired Knight shook his head. “The only swimsuits available for a male avatar are trunks or briefs.”

“Huh?” Iris couldn’t understand why that would make Kirschwasser so unhappy. Did he have some kind of problem with trunks and briefs? Was he the kind of person who wore one-piece suits in private?

Ichiro was acting as usual, and Felicia scowled with a nod of understanding, so it was clearly something that made sense if you knew him in real life.

“If you’re going to the beach tomorrow, Sir Kirschwasser, please take care of the two of them,” Ichiro said, cutting off Iris’s attempt to pursue the matter further.

“Huh? You’re really not coming, Itchy?” Felicia asked.

“I did say that I had other business to attend to,” Ichiro said lightly, closing the game’s proprietary browser. “Well, it appears that’s that. Take care of them both, Sir Kirschwasser.”

“Yes, Master Ichiro. I shall do as you ask.” The Knight bowed reverently in response to the young heir’s words. It was an extremely smooth movement, as if he was used to interacting this way all the time.

Iris knew that Ichiro was a wealthy man, and that Kirschwasser acted as his servant in real life, but it was hard to imagine what their relationship in the real world could really be like.

“Hey, Felicia,” Iris said. “Are the young heir and Mr. Kirsch...”

“Y-Yeah?” Felicia jumped slightly as Iris brought up the subject.

“I mean, they seem so at home together,” Iris fumbled. “It’s like they really are master and servant. I mean, he said they really are, but... it’s just so hard to imagine there are still butlers in modern-day Japan.”

Felicia repeated the word “butlers” under her breath, with a troubled expression.

But in the end, “Y-Yeah, right!” was her only response.

As she spoke, Felicia looked towards Ichiro, who was exchanging light banter with Kirschwasser, her gaze full of complicated envy. Perhaps Felicia, who so loved her second cousin Itchy, was jealous of the close trust the two shared.

That was understandable enough; Ichiro and Kirschwasser’s relationship was perfect. Whenever Ichiro went on one of his incomprehensibly circuitous rants, Kirschwasser was always there to explain it in brief, easy-to-understand terms. When Ichiro seemed to prepare to take action for something, Kirschwasser could anticipate it and make preparations in advance.

And then, surprisingly, the reverse was also true. In his own way, Ichiro always seemed to understand Kirschwasser’s intentions without the need to say them. They were completely in sync.

Iris had quite a few close friends, but right now she was somewhat estranged from them, so that sort of intimate trust was something she was genuinely envious of.

“Is something the matter?” At some point, Kirschwasser had made a new pot of tea, and was approaching them with it. Perhaps noticing their gazes fixed on him, he asked the question with his usual gentleness.

Iris held out her empty teacup and responded, “Oh, nothing...”

But even so...

“It’s nothing, but I am a little curious about your relationship with the young heir.”

“Oho?” The man’s eyes narrowed, like a bird of prey.

“What made you decide to work for the young heir, Mr. Kirsch?” she asked.

“He pays well.”

“Oh, I... I see. That’s a very realistic reason...”

Kirschwasser’s expression immediately softened again, and he poured another cup from the pot.

Iris had heard that the Knight was excellent at brewing tea even in the real world, and in the game, he had taken the Skill “Tea Ceremony,” despite it having no direct combat application whatsoever. It was the ability to take herbs and poison grass-type plants, boil them, and create drinkable items. These drinks offered numerous medicinal effects, and they were fairly practical. But like “Cooking,” it was a popular flavor skill for various other reasons, allowing players to enjoy the sense of taste specific to Drive VRMMOs, or to enhance the feeling of roleplaying their avatar.

“Of course, the work environment is good, as well. And he pays my living expenses,” Kirschwasser added, as Iris’s thoughts were sent wandering by the tea’s aroma.

“But there was an incident that prompted it, wasn’t there?” she asked.

“If you would categorize Master Ichiro saving my life as an incident, then yes.”

“I can’t tell if you’re roleplaying or serious...”

Kirschwasser’s only answer to that was a short laugh. Ichiro showed no sign of denying it, but he also wasn’t the type to aggressively work to mitigate misunderstandings, so his attitude didn’t actually suggest anything either way.

“Well, either way, I think a servant like you is wasted on the young heir...” Iris said.

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Ichiro said. “I have my own value, and so does Sir. You could hardly compare us as apples to apples.”

As usual, it was a high-handed way of putting things, but the fact that he didn’t try to suggest that Kirschwasser had comparatively less value suggested that he liked the man quite a bit.

Felicia, watching, scowled in slight displeasure. Jealousy, perhaps? It was the young heir, after all, and she had previously flared up at Iris over a misunderstanding about her relationship with him, too.

“Speaking of which...” Iris began, remembering something.

Iris had been trying as hard as she could not to make enemies while playing NaroFan (though she knew that there were people who would always try to stir up drama online regardless), yet she had been the target of malice three times that she was aware of. At least two of them, including the Felicia incident, were the result of the man sitting in the chair, cheerfully sipping tea in front of her.

“Is something the matter?” Ichiro asked.

“No, um... That Nem person who visited the guild house recently...” Iris said.

That was the third person who had acted maliciously towards Iris in the game. The first (Felicia) and the second (Edward) had both been settled, but this had happened so recently that there seemed little hope of resolving it right away.

Like Iris, the woman seemed to be an Elf Alchemist, and also, like Iris, she wore equipment skinned with original graphics. But Nem’s design sense had been transcendent, in a way that had taken Iris’s breath away at first glance. It was like the difference between a puddle and a cloud. But before she could even process the feelings of frustration that inspired, Nem had said those next words:

“It’s nothing.”

Iris had needed a few moments to even realize that shade had been thrown. The woman had said those words while looking at the equipment designs that decorated the Iris Brand guild house. In other words, she’d been mocking the armor that Iris had designed.

Of course, Iris had to admit it. Her designs were childish and unrefined. That wasn’t something she could deny. She had to resign herself to that. Still, the nerve of that woman, barging into someone’s guild house and saying that to someone she’d only just met...

“Look, young heir, I’m just curious,” Iris said. “Is she someone you’ve met before?”

“I’d like to leave it to your imagination, but why do you ask?”

“I’ve had three people pick fights with me in the game so far, and if Nem is involved with you, that means every one of them has been your fault,” Iris said.

“I see.” Ichiro gave his usual breezy smile and laid his teacup on the table. “If you are seeking an apology, then I apologize.”

“So you know her! You do know her!”

“And if I may speculate, the reason she picked a fight with you is also likely because of me.”

“That’s three for three! Three for three!”

Ichiro didn’t seem the slightest bit abashed about it, either. Iris pounded the table to express her irritation.

“H-How does he know her?” Felicia asked, timidly.

Kirschwasser shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s my place to say...”

“Hmph. Well, fine,” Iris continued, and for some reason, reclined cockily as she did. “Even if she was picking a fight over you, I’m not the kind of person to just sit idly by while someone insults my designs. I’m going to teach her a lesson.”

“Hmm, good. Terribly sorry, though,” Ichiro said. Though technically an apology, the words didn’t sound like he meant them at all.

“Of course, I have to teach you a lesson, too,” Iris said. “I have to make you acknowledge my talent...”

Iris was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up. She had known it would be a rough road ahead, so she wouldn’t be discouraged that easily. What she was designing in the game was armor rather than fashion. Still, she wasn’t going to sit back and let someone criticize her taste in outerwear.

Whenever Iris got riled up like this, for some reason, it seemed to bring the young heir Ichiro Tsuwabuki immense satisfaction. This made Iris feel vaguely like she was being studied, or perhaps, manipulated. Either way, she didn’t like it at all. Still...

“Anyway, swimsuits! For me and Felicia!” she cried.

“Oh, yeah. But you don’t have to get so excited about it...” For some reason, Felicia’s expression had grown slightly anxious.

“Sir Kirschwasser,” Ichiro said.

“Yes? How can I help you, Master Ichiro?”

“As I said, I won’t be logging in tomorrow...”

“Yes?”

“...but if Nem interferes with Iris in any unpleasant way, I’ll be counting on you.”

“Hmm...”

“What is it?” Ichiro asked.

“Nothing, Master Ichiro.”

“I see.”

“Is it possible,” Sir Kirschwasser proposed, “that you are worried about Iris?”

“Nonsense.”