3 - Noble Son, Inquire

The summer! The sea! The swimsuits!

That is to say, Iris and her friends had made it to the beach!

Manyfish Beach.

There were quite a lot of people around there — naturally, since it was a recently-opened field — but only about half of the players had gone to the trouble of buying swimsuits to enjoy the fictional reality seaside. The rest were adventurers wearing the usual boring metallic and monster-hide armor, and the comparative skin exposure between them approached the absurd.

Iris and Felicia were both dressed in swimsuits that Iris had designed and created before they had headed out. They were two-piece bathing suits based on a flower print, and she’d created them after doing careful research on all the latest trends. Still, there was nothing especially interesting about them. Felicia had given them high praise, but Iris regretted that they weren’t more inspired.

Even so...

Iris looked over the beach with hands on her hips.

The male avatars outnumbered the female ones overwhelmingly. Perhaps that was a reflection of the demographics of the player base: it was easy to lie about one’s gender in a game, but it looked like not many men were perverted enough to disguise themselves as a female avatar and then put that avatar in a swimsuit, as well. Naturally, there were no women wearing flashy original swimsuits like Iris and Felicia, which meant the two girls got a lot of attention.

Negative attention.

“Oh, Iris. I don’t like... the way they’re staring...” Felicia said, hiding behind Iris.

“Y-Yeah... I think... yeah...” Iris stammered.

Was this how it felt to be undressed with the eyes? In the real world, Iris worked hard to keep her slender form and nice legs, and she’d felt the gazes of men on her at the beach or the pool often enough. But here at Manyfish, there were far, far more.

Iris’s body in the fictional world of the game had added Elvish stature modifiers to her real world proportions, which meant that she was taller and more willowy than the Airi Kakitsubata of the real world. She didn’t look like herself, either, so it wasn’t as if it was Airi’s own body that was the object of the attention...

...but it still didn’t feel good to be stared at.

“Hmm.” Sir Kirschwasser let out a heavy hum. The silver-haired elder Knight was there on his master’s orders, acting both as their protector and as the young heir’s proxy. He was wearing Full Plate Mail, which was surely not appropriate fashion for the beach in midsummer. “This... This atmosphere reminds me of... that.”

“Huh? Of what?” Iris asked.

“The thing held every year in August and early December... ah, no, it’s better if you don’t know. Let us just say that there are always people who get the wrong idea about the cosplay booth,” Kirschwasser said, then drew the Knight Sword that was hanging from his hip. He turned towards the characters leering at Iris and Felicia and thrust the sword’s point at them. “I beg your pardon, but photography is forbidden. Close those screen capture apps this instant.”

Did he really need to draw the sword? Iris wondered, but perhaps that was part of the roleplay.

Most of the players closed their holo-panels under the weight of his stern gaze, but one enthusiastic camera brat balked at it. “Come on, give us a break. It’s just a game.”

He moved to take a picture of Iris and Felicia in their swimsuits. The two of them quickly hid behind the heavy-plated Kirschwasser.

The Knight let out a small sigh. “Indeed, it is just a game. If you refuse to comply, then, shall I be forced to use force?” The Knight Sword glinted in the midsummer sun, and Kirschwasser’s fighting spirit gave off a similar shine.

Iris wasn’t entirely sure, but she was under the impression that Narrow Fantasy Online was a game that tolerated PvP, and perhaps even had a tendency to endorse it. It meant that you occasionally saw situations like this, where minor disputes would be solved with violence.

The camera brat wore a mohawk and spiked shoulder pads, attire which spoke volumes about the kind of person he was. He clucked his tongue lightly and pulled a knife from his belt.

“Hee hee hee hee! Well said, old man! Then I’ll take you down and get as many sexy photos as I want!”

Iris wondered what kind of character he was supposed to be playing.

“Hey, my little brother drew his knife... Kyee hee hee hee hee! Now we get to see blood!” Behind the man with the knife stood a similar-looking post-apocalyptic punk, who let out a mad laugh as he watched.

Most of the players walking back and forth along the beach began to gather around what was looking like a duel. Not a single person seemed eager to try to stop them.

Thus, beneath the blue sky, white clouds, and summer sun on the water’s edge, the post-apocalyptic spiky mohawk punk and the silver-haired elder Knight faced each other and prepared for battle. Due to some playfulness on the designers’ parts, perhaps, Manyfish Beach did not forbid inter-player combat.

“Ah, Iris, shouldn’t we stop them?” Felicia ventured.

“I’m not sure...” Iris said. “I don’t even know if this is something we can stop...”

Iris and Felicia seemed to be the only ones at a loss for what to do.

The mohawk man standing across from Kirschwasser began threatening him with a piercing voice as he licked his blade like a hooligan. “Hee hee hee hee! Let me warn you, my knife is coated with poison!”

Immediately, a noxious purple visual floated up from his body, and he fell to the ground before his mad smile even had time to fade. Then his body dissipated into particles of light, which dispersed into the sky with a shining, mystical shimmer. He was dead.

“What was he even trying to accomplish?” Iris exclaimed.

“Everyone has their own way of enjoying the game...” Felicia murmured.

As the two girls gazed at the poison knife and spiked shoulder pads that had fallen on the beach, the rubberneckers hoping for a fight dispersed with an air of disappointment.

The other mohawked man clutched his “little brother’s” knife and shoulder pads to his chest, then ran off crying. It was clear he couldn’t possibly be serious, but even as roleplay, it was a hard thing to understand.

“I have driven off the offending ruffians,” Kirschwasser said, turning back to Iris and Felicia with a subservient air.

“You didn’t really drive them off,” Iris said. “More like they self-destructed...”

“You see men like that sometimes,” Kirschwasser said. “They enjoy playing the villain.”

“You were pretty rough with him, still...”

“Well, he was a hooligan, after all.”

Kirschwasser sheathed his Knight Sword and shrugged. “Regardless, I will keep you safe all day, so go and enjoy yourselves in the ocean. You have those new swimsuits, after all. I will do everything in my power so that you may frolic, free from worry about the gazes of the rabble.”

“But knowing there are people like that around...” Felicia said, squirming.

“I guess it’s pretty selfish to put on swimsuits like this and then say we don’t want our pictures taken, huh?” Iris mused.

“That’s not true,” Sir Kirschwasser said. “You wish to wear lovely clothing, but you don’t wish to have people leering at you. Both are signs of an innocent girl’s heart. I fully understand.”

Always the adult, Iris thought. A noble man who both understood and respected the female heart. So different from the young heir. Of course, in the young heir’s case, it wasn’t that he didn’t understand how women felt. He understood it, but he didn’t respect it, which made it feel even meaner.

But enough thinking about him. He wasn’t here, for once. So...

“Okay, Felicia! Let’s swim!” Iris raised a fist into the air and shouted.

“Iris, are you a good swimmer?” Felicia asked.

“I took swimming lessons in elementary school. What about you?”

“I’m an all-around sports girl!”

“Then let’s do it!” Iris cried.

Iris and Felicia ran across the sandy beach, side by side. The elaborate processes of the Miraive Gear used quantum information to project the feeling of running through breakers into their brains. But they didn’t care about the scientific aspect of it. It was summer, they were in swimsuits, and they were at the beach. Who wouldn’t want to enjoy every second of it?

The red-haired girl and the white-haired girl both dove into the sea, kicking up a splash that sucked in the sunlight and glittered like thousands of jewels in the air.

They didn’t come up.

“What were those devs thinking?!”

They had been pulled out of the water a few minutes later, and were now taking a breather in the cabana set up near the shore. Iris was ranting angrily.

“They set up this whole big beach, then make it so you can’t swim right unless you have the ‘Swimming’ Skill?!”

“I suppose it’s a boon to the otherwise useless Swimming skill, but it really does seem rather backwards,” Kirschwasser said as he drank his tea with a sigh. Bringing his tea set into the cabana did feel like an infringement on their business, but since it seemed like the tables and chairs were just set up for people to relax, nobody said anything in particular.

“Why have swimsuits if we can’t swim?” Felicia plunged her straw into her iced tea and began to blow furious bubbles.

“Seriously,” Iris fumed. “Now that I look, it seems like only a few people really came to swim...”

“It seems there are rare monsters and items in the water, and some take the Swimming Skill to go on treasure hunts... but well, I don’t think you’d be much interested in that,” said Sir Kirschwasser.

They were in a game, after all. But it was a hard world they lived in, if they needed a Skill just to do basic beachgoing.

Iris wasn’t pouting openly, but she did throw herself forward onto the table to show that her interest in the whole affair was waning. “Now I don’t know what to do.”

“At times like these, I believe beach volleyball is the usual choice,” said Kirschwasser.

“I can play beach volleyball pretty well, too!” The self-proclaimed all-around sports girl Felicia puffed out her (lack of) chest proudly.

If they came to the beach and ended up just hanging around and drinking tea, it would be just like what they always did. It was a total waste. What was she even paying the 980-yen monthly fee for?

“Is that Sir Kirschwasser I see?” someone addressed their group as they were resting in the cabana.

“Well, if it isn’t Lord Stroganoff,” Kirschwasser replied with a tone of surprise. “Good to see you again.”

Felicia spoke up, too. “Oh, um, from the Knights!”

Standing before them was a giant of a man, about two meters tall, with glorious red hair and beard and an imposing aura, who was wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Narrow Fantasy Online’s exquisite lighting engine rendered the man’s burly musculature with tremendous authenticity. The trunks didn’t have a pattern, but the color scheme suggested a setting sun over the water. There was also an inner tube hanging off his shoulder.

“You know each other?” Iris asked.

Kirschwasser and Felicia nodded in response.

“We met him during the period when you couldn’t log in because of tests,” said Kirschwasser. “He’s the leader of the Red Sunset Knights, the game’s strongest guild.”

“Heh...” The red-haired macho man perked up a little bit at the description.

Now that she looked, it seemed many of the players visiting the beach were gazing from afar at this man named Stroganoff and the “Red Sunset Knights” he had brought, and were whispering.

Was he really that famous? Iris wondered. She didn’t have much interest in the Achievement side of the game, so she really had little knowledge about such things.

He was the Human Fighter, Stroganoff the Monstrous, and he had brought along his four sub-commanders: “Baron” Gazpacho, “Saint” Tiramisu, “Demon” Gorgonzola, and “Shooting Star” Parmigiano-Reggiano. Just hearing their names was enough to make her hungry.

They were all in swimsuits, as well.

Naturally, as the strongest guild, the Knights were full of dedicated gamers, and most of them were male. Tiramisu stood out quite a bit, in fact: the “Saint”’s swimsuit was a midriff-bearing monokini woven with contrasting white and indigo threads. The provocative, revealing lines belied her holy title and made it hard to know where it was safe to rest your eyes. Tiramisu, the woman in question, was smiling awkwardly, perhaps a little bit embarrassed.

“Where’s Tsuwabuki today?” Stroganoff asked.

“He is not yet on,” said Kirschwasser.

“I see...” Stroganoff let out a noise of faint relief.

“Did you come to enjoy the beach?” Felicia asked. Perhaps her question was improper to ask the game’s strongest guild, but with the way they were dressed, they really did look like they had come to enjoy the beach.

“We came to beat a boss monster that’s been appearing offshore,” Stroganoff said as he stuck out his defined pectorals.

“To defeat boss monsters everywhere is the Knights’ sole desire,” one of the four sub-commanders announced.

“Mr. Tsuwabuki got the kill-steal on us the other day, but he won’t have it so easy this time,” another added.

“This time, it is the Red Sunset Knights who will kill the boss first!” a third declared.

“We’ve prepared a banana boat with enough seats for all,” a fourth supplemented.

Despite being a little confused, Iris asked hesitantly, “But, um... in those swimsuits?”

“These are not mere swimsuits,” Stroganoff said proudly. “These were made-to-order by the Akihabara Forging Guild, produced with care by Sakata the Stupid himself. Their defense modifier is +2,800, and they increase water magic resistance. Excellent armor for fighting water monsters.”

“Sakata the Stupid” referred to the leader of the Akihabara Forging Guild, the greatest crafting guild in the game. His actual name was I’m With Stupid →. From the way he talked, he and Stroganoff must have gone back a long way. She seemed to recall that the young heir had said something like that once before, too.

“Um, well, ah... do your best,” Iris said.

At first looking uncertain of how to respond, Stroganoff eventually seemed to take her words as well-meant encouragement. “Thank you. We shall. Give our regards to Tsuwabuki, as well.”

He cast a glance to the others around him, and at last, the game’s most skilled achievement guild, the Red Sunset Knights, got on board their banana boat and headed out to sea.

“I guess that’s the ‘proper’ way of enjoying the game...” said Iris.

“Well, it’s certainly the method the designers planned for,” said Kirschwasser. “They did offer the swimsuits, after all.”

“I felt sorry for them getting mixed up in the fight between Itchy and Kiryuhito, so I hope they can get their proper fight this time,” Felicia whispered idly as she watched them sail away.

“My, my. Is that Sir Kirschwasser I see?”

The next thing they heard was a sticky, clingy, unpleasant voice. Iris noticed the previously-relaxing Felicia grimace at the sound of it.

When they looked up, they saw an attractive Elf man standing there alone. He was wearing chainmail underneath a coat, which was about as stuffy-looking as Kirschwasser’s outfit. Unlike the Red Sunset Knights, he didn’t look like he was here to enjoy the beach and the swimsuits in the ways the developers intended.

“...Who is this, now?” Iris asked in a whisper.

“...Mr. Matsunaga,” Felicia responded with a scowl.

It seemed he wasn’t someone she liked, but Kirschwasser didn’t seem to mind the man, and responded to him just as he had with Stroganoff before. “Well, well. Mr. Matsunaga. Thank you for your help before.”

“That’s my line,” said Matsunaga. “Did you receive my gift?”

“Yes, Tsuwabuki and I quite enjoyed it together.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Matsunaga, with little deference, sat down at their table. Felicia’s expression grew more uncomfortable, and she scooted in Iris’s direction.

Thinking it was a familiar-sounding name, Iris searched back in her memory, and then remembered it was the name of the moderator of that aggregate blog which had come up several times in the past. She recalled that it had run an article about the Edward incident from the other day, and the content had not been favorable towards Iris... Well, more accurately, it had not been favorable towards the young heir. It was clear that Felicia openly disliked him, as well.

“Ah, so you’re Iris, eh?” Matsunaga broached the subject before she could properly figure out how to respond.

“Yes, um... hello.” Iris wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, but it was hard to be openly friendly to the person who had written an article like that.

Matsunaga’s face was attractive, and his roundabout way of speaking — not even trying to hide the unpleasantness in his voice — made her nervous. But when he sat, he left a space between him and Iris, and he didn’t look at them like he was undressing them with his eyes or anything like that. Either he was surprisingly gentlemanly, or he was simply not accustomed to being around women.

“This is our first time meeting in person... Ah, now I see...” He cast a glance at Iris.

“If you have something to say, could you please just come out and say it?” Iris snapped. Iris had a tendency to employ a needled tone in response to someone speaking in an insinuating fashion. She knew it was a bad habit, but she didn’t try to stop herself.

“No, nothing at this very moment,” Matsunaga said. “I was just wondering why it was that Mr. Tsuwabuki liked you so much.”

“I couldn’t really tell you. It’s just the kind of person he is,” she snapped back.

Although he wasn’t exactly looking at her body, there was still something disquieting in his gaze, which had Iris feeling more and more sour.

“Mr. Matsunaga, was it?” she asked. “Do you have some grudge against the young heir?”

“Nothing in particular,” said Matsunaga. “Writing interesting articles gets me more hits, that’s all. It’s a matter of life or death, you know. The affiliate blog is my livelihood.”

“Hmm...” Iris was reminded of another article about the young heir on Matsunaga’s blog the other day. It had described an event during the Grand Quest that had taken place while she was taking exams: a clash between the game’s two greatest players — the young heir and the young man in black, King Kirihito, whom she had met briefly the other day. That article must have earned him a lot of hits, too.

“And, well,” Matsunaga continued with a lurid smile, “your guild leader does create such fine material.”

“I’m not as interesting as he is,” Iris said defensively.

“I’m not sure about that,” he smiled. “I believe you have potential. My hopes are quite high... but, never mind that for now.”

Every word the man said was drenched with innuendo. Iris, who liked people to say things outright, found conversing with him very uncomfortable.

“So, what are you doing here, Lord Matsunaga?” Perhaps recognizing Iris’s growing discomfort, Kirschwasser stepped in.

“Looking for material,” said Matsunaga. “I had a feeling something interesting might happen here today.”

There was meaning hidden behind his words. He must have had more than just a feeling. He had some kind of lead. Something was going to happen on this beach today. Iris wondered if she could avoid getting wrapped up in it.

“Well, okay, but...” Iris narrowed her eyes, sipped her tea, and asked Matsunaga a question. “Why do you say everything in such a loaded... villainous kind of way?”

“That’s our guild’s philosophy,” Matsunaga said airily, as if he had been waiting for just that question.

“Ah, hey! If it isn’t Miss Felicia!”

The interrupter likely wasn’t trying to cut off the conversation, but that was still the result, as Matsunaga and the rest of the group turned their attention to the new arrival.

It was a party of six or seven Fighters in short black swim trunks, all holding inner tubes and walking along the sand. They all had similar black haircuts, and they all were similarly handsome. In fact, they more or less seemed to have the same face, which made it a little eerie.

Iris looked at Felicia again, wondering if she knew them, too, but Felicia’s expression was extremely awkward.

“U-Um... have we met?” Iris asked uneasily.

“Hey, don’t joke! It’s me! Kirihito!”

The man who was introducing himself in a cheerful voice looked very different from the King Kirihito they’d seen the other day, Iris thought. And yet...

“I’m Kirihito, too!”

“Of course, I am also Kirihito.”

“And I’m Kirihito.”

“Kirihito here!”

“Kirihito? That’s me!”

“As a matter of fact, I am Kirihito, as well.”

The six behind him also started mouthing off, adding another level to the confusion.

“Yes! I am... we are...!”

“That style of introduction is so worn-out, so please, refrain,” said Kirschwasser.

“Fair enough.”

Kirschwasser’s gentle recrimination caused the leader-looking man to nod, before striking a precise pose. The six behind him posed as well, and despite them all having the same face and build, their poses all showed individuality.

“I see an unfamiliar face here, too,” the leader said. “We’re The Kirihitters, a guild that exists for those who love to play as Kirihito, the protagonist of our favorite anime. We hold deep respect for the strongest Kirihito of all, King Kirihito, and for Miss Felicia, who appears to be his real-life friend.”

“Ahh, I see...” Iris breathed. She was dealing with a lot of strong personalities today, and it was starting to get quite exhausting.

“Oh, yeah. I just remembered. I didn’t recognize you in those swimsuits, that’s all...” Felicia muttered.

“That’s what we thought! But there’s an ocean here, so we have to swim. I’m curious to see how it compares to the sea at Kagoshima!” Kirihito (Leader) gave her a big thumbs-up, and smiled as bright as could be. “We’re going to enjoy the summer. Miss Felicia, if you see King, say hello to him for us!”

“Um, sure thing.” Felicia waved with a half-hearted smile, and watched the seven Kirihitos leave.

Watching them jump into the ocean one by one, Iris whispered, “It takes all types, huh?”

“That is the nature of the online game,” Matsunaga said without a moment’s pause. “If I may say, you’re a peculiar one, too, Miss Iris. Trying to design original armor and accessories and sell them... It must be a lot of wasted money and effort.”

That line hit her where it hurt. She didn’t even have to think about it; he was dead right. She had the young heir as a patron now, but before she’d met him, it had been a long period of throwing her meager allowance away on nothing. If you had asked her why she was doing it, all she could say was, “because I want to.” It was far removed from the typical playstyle, so maybe she was a bit peculiar.

“But thanks to that peculiar hobby of yours, Tsuwabuki took notice of you,” Kirschwasser added.

Iris wondered if he was trying to make her feel better.

Matsunaga just shrugged, as if to say, “Yes, I know.” He added, “But of course, that would be the case...”

Iris tilted her head as he spoke once again in the manner he had described as “my guild’s philosophy.” “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Even under the recreation of the midsummer sun of Manyfish Beach, Matsunaga’s thin smile sent a chill running through her. Perhaps that, too, was part of his guild’s philosophy.

The curry shop that Ichiro and Azami arrived at was a cramped, quiet place. The prices were relatively reasonable, which, from Ichiro’s perspective, was rather refreshing, as well. He didn’t usually have a chance to enter little shops like this unless he was traveling.

“Should I have picked a more expensive restaurant?” Azami asked hesitantly as Ichiro pored curiously over the menu.

“Nonsense. I don’t care about the price. You have taken me to a restaurant you believe is good, so I shall refrain from comment until I can taste the food and judge it for myself. Isn’t that right?”

This last question was aimed towards the chef, who also seemed to be the restaurant’s owner, standing behind the counter.

The man had masculine, deep-chiseled features. In a grave voice, he said, “Yes, I won’t make you regret it, buddy,” and gave a winning smile.

“Now then, sir. What do you recommend most? It’s a digression, but my favorite curry is that made by my home chef. Though of course, if Azami recommends this place, I suspect the flavor will be just as good.”

Liking the master’s confident attitude, Ichiro had decided to tailor his words to challenge him even more.

The chef demonstrated a big personality of his own, and headed into the kitchen with lines like, “Heh, time to show my stuff,” and, “Fine, I’ll prepare my secret weapon!”

Ichiro watched him go, then nodded in approval. “He looks like a fine chef. I look forward to his curry, as well.”

“You like provoking people, don’t you?” Azami asked.

“It is not that I like it. But I will acknowledge that I so rarely find people who rise to my challenges that, in my delight, I often find myself saying provoking things,” Ichiro said gleefully, taking a drink of the lemon water set in front of him.

King Kirihito. Edward. Iris. They were all that way. Even Sakurako Ogi, though servile to him, often showed an indomitable strength that he enjoyed, as well. The way she would easily clean up the unreasonable amount of work Ichiro requested of her, then take a break with a triumphant expression, was somehow both invigorating and astonishing.

He wondered if they were having fun right now. It wasn’t impossible that they might get into trouble, given how Iris Brand (or rather, Ichiro Tsuwabuki) had been at the center of quite a bit of controversy as of late. Still, he wasn’t terribly worried. Kirschwasser could probably handle it.

“You’re a rather unusual person,” Azami said.

“I suppose I am.” Ichiro recognized that his personality was very different from that of the average person.

“Your actions in the game would suggest that you enjoy making enemies,” she added.

“That’s a misleading way of putting it,” Ichiro frowned. “But the reasoning is similar to what I explained, so I’ll admit that it’s true in a certain sense. It’s not a bad thing to have rivals in one’s life.”

“Even if you beat those rivals with less-than-mature methods?” she asked.

“Whether or not a method is immature, and whether or not it is wrong to use it, is a subjective matter, so I shall not comment. I merely believe that I should use everything at my disposal, and that is true all the more when it comes to things I want to do.”

His long-winded explanation would usually cause Iris to say something like, “Young heir, you’re gross.” But his attempts to be as careful and fair as possible in his statements were just an attempt to prevent misunderstanding.

“That’s why you buy so many microtransactions?” Azami asked. “Of course, my company is very grateful for it...”

“Well, yes,” Ichiro said. “My money is an extension of my talents, after all. Seeing how far I can take it in an online game bound by numerical restrictions is, to be honest, quite a refreshing way of enjoying things.”

Azami Nono’s expression was mixed. NaroFan had earned nicknames like “Crap Game Online” for its poor game balance. But as a creator, she clearly wasn’t trying to upset people, so it was possible that Ichiro’s “paying to win” playstyle was frustrating to her, too.

Noting her expression, Ichiro decided to change the subject. “I tried to ask you this at Megumi’s party, but...”

“Yes?”

“The rock I ate at the Volgund Volcanoes. I never heard your answer for that.”

“Oh...” Azami Nono smiled wryly.

Once, Ichiro had picked up a rock he found in one of the game’s fields and tried to put it in his mouth. He hadn’t been able to swallow it, but the taste and texture had seemed entirely real. Considering the limitations on the data the servers could store, it was hard to believe that every single object in the game could have data individually programmed into it. Thus, he was curious.

Azami, seeming to prefer this line of discussion, immediately relaxed and answered him. “There are two systems: the recognition program and the collective intelligence system. If I may, Ichiro, have you read my thesis?”

“I have,” Ichiro said. “The recognition program, eh? I remember it mentioning something like that. The collective intelligence system refers to data analysis through machine learning algorithms and statistics, yes?”

“That’s right.”

In other words, most things in the game environment weren’t programmed in advance. The ability to send detailed data directly to the player about whatever they were focusing attention on — the feeling of “this is like this” — came from the recognition system. The collective intelligence system used various crowdsourced information to bolster that ability. The Miraive Gear’s brainwave scanner could collect such recognitions from all players and unify them, in order to compile data regarding an average worldview.

The taste and texture of the rock that Ichiro had tried hadn’t been programmed into quantum signals by the designers; it had been the result of an average of unconscious recognitions taken from many players. A unified feeling of “I bet it tastes and feels like that.” Of course, the average might also have incorporated the thoughts of some people who really had tried eating rocks before... But regardless, the collective intelligence let people seamlessly experience all kinds of things the programmers had never put their hands on.

These two systems worked together to enhance Narrow Fantasy Online’s larger setting while reducing the burden on the server significantly.

“I see,” Ichiro said.

“We also have a council system run by AI, known as the Ten Sages.”

Ichiro offered an expression of mild, but genuine, interest, which encouraged Azami to continue.

“They’re learning artificial intelligences I developed in my time at MIT. Rosemary, Coriander, Cicely, Lemon Balm... I let them handle the maintenance duties.”

“All names of herbs?” Ichiro asked.

“It’s a bad pun — sages, sages...” Azami gave a shy laugh. “The collective intelligence system can also collect data on what players want, and what they’re not happy about. They amass it all together, then debate whether it needs attention or not. Of course, if it’s something the devs should be involved in, we’re the ones who make the final judgment. We’ll also review the issue directly if the Ten Sages Council can’t reach a particular majority either way.”

This was the first time Ichiro had ever heard of artificial intelligence running a game. But then, Azami’s major had been quantum physics, the foundation for quantum computers, so perhaps it was only natural that she would create such a thing.

“That reminds me,” Azami said with sudden inspiration. “One of the Ten Sages, Rosemary, has shown interest in you.”

“An AI, interested in me?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s the learning AI I mentioned before... She has an algorithm to seek out collected intelligence, which allows her to have some degree of interest, and personal judgment. This is the first time she’s taken interest in an individual, though. I guess your actions in the game have been ‘interesting’ to her.”

“Hmm...” Ichiro said.

It was around that time that the store’s owner came out of the kitchen, carrying two dishes of curry rice from which wafted an absolutely heavenly smell. There was still an indomitable smile on the man’s stern, attractive face, but compared to before, there was a strange sense of weariness, which was in turn overshadowed by a proud aura of achievement. He must have been fighting a grand battle that the two of them would never know.

“Here you are.” After setting the curry dishes on the counter, the chef went back into the kitchen.

“Well, it does look quite delicious,” said Ichiro.

“I’ve been to this store a few times before, but I’ve never had this curry...” Azami murmured.

“He did say it was his secret weapon.” Ichiro picked up his spoon and returned to the previous subject. “Now, about this ‘Rosemary’ AI...”

“Oh, are you interested?” she asked.

“Yes, a bit.” Ichiro was the kind of person who found the progress of science very exciting.

What form would “interest” take in the artificial intelligence that Azami Nono had developed? How flexible were its thought patterns? That one simple statement had filled him with so much curiosity.

“Then after we get back to the company, let’s have a ‘talk’ with her,” said Azami.

“Are you sure that’s all right?”

“Yes, I think it’s good for Rosemary to have new experiences.”

A conversation with an artificial intelligence would be a new frontier, even for Ichiro. Recently, bot technology had produced various top-down conversation programs and chatbots, and most of those could be interacted with on the internet via SNS. But he’d never had a conversation with a “true AI” with both intelligence and reasoning ability.

“I’d be happy to join you, then,” Ichiro said. The thought of experiencing the unknown caused his heart to leap. Ichiro happily dug a spoon into his curry.

It was quite delicious, as befitting the owner’s “secret weapon.”

It was around that time that the beach started growing less crowded, perhaps due to much of the player base logging out for lunch. As the seaside population grew sparse, Iris and Felicia started feeling playful again and decided to spend some time with a beach ball.

“Face my fireball miracle pitch!” Felicia shouted as she jumped high, arched her entire body back, and struck the ball with one hand, sending it flying with amazing speed. Her impressive “Throwing” Skill — grinded to high levels on the advice of a friend — amplified her serve appropriately, causing her so-called “fireball miracle pitch” to indeed take on a violent spin and a wreathed-by-fire visual (though with no corresponding elemental property attached). “Hydrooo Blasteeeeer!”

“Eek!” Iris just barely dodged it. Spinning like a gyroball, the “fireball miracle pitch” smashed into the sand at her feet, and continued spinning even as it dug its way deeper, spraying fine particles all over the surrounding area.

Iris’s terror displayed itself in a game-amplified cold sweat visual as she gazed upon what Felicia’s ball had wrought.

“Felicia! I’m starting to think beach volleyball between a physical class and a spellcaster class may have a fatal flaw!” she cried.

“I’m starting to think you’re right!” Felicia agreed.

i

“And the ball being the property of one of the players would appear to make things even more unfair!”

“I’m starting to think you’re right!”

“By the way, what is ‘Hydro Blaster’?”

“It’s my miracle pitch in development,” Felicia said. “My coach named it.”

Just what kind of miracle pitch was Felicia’s softball coach trying to develop? Surely it wasn’t meant to spin at high velocity, get wreathed in flames, and dig a hole into the ground. Iris had serious doubts about this game serving as — as Felicia’s coach had apparently put it — “miracle pitch image training.”

She let out a small sigh and picked up the metal ball from where it had dug itself into the ground. It was exactly beach ball-sized, but when she picked it up, it gave a small tremble and then turned its face to look at her.

It was the second monster that the Beast Tamer Felicia had “tamed.” Its race was Iron Sphere, its name was Gobo-Two, and it could change its size to some degree. It and Felicia’s Power Golem, Gobo, were the gallant mechanical monsters that stood by her side day and night as she worked to develop her miracle pitch.

“Gobo-Two, come here.” When Felicia clapped her hands, the Iron Sphere fell out of Iris’s arms and rolled over towards its master. It had some degree of programmed personality, and the way it rolled around her feet like a scampering animal was the result of a combination of thought patterns.

Iris knew it was all computer code, but she was still a bit jealous of Felicia and her pet, even if the “pet” was just a lump of metal.

“He’s lost a few HP,” Felicia said. “I’m going to have Mr. Kirsch heal him up.”

“If he’d hit me, I would’ve lost more than just a few HP!” Iris exclaimed.

A direct hit from Felicia’s Hydro Blaster would probably have dropped her HP to 0 instantly, leaving nothing of Iris behind but her swimsuit, dropped in accordance with the game’s death penalty.

Her respawn point was her room in their guild house, and while she’d still be in her underwear and not actually nude, the thought of dying and leaving her bikini on the beach was still incredibly mortifying.

They took Gobo-Two back to the cabana, only to find Kirschwasser and Matsunaga scowling at each other across a game board.

“Mr. Kirsch, we’re back,” said Iris.

“Welcome back,” Kirschwasser greeted them. “How did you enjoy beach volleyball?”

“Using Gobo-Two as a ball turned out to be... problematic,” said Iris.

“Could you heal him?” Felicia asked.

“Certainly.” Kirschwasser smiled gently, and a sparkling green light visual poured from his outstretched gauntlet as he cast “Heal.” He was primarily a front-liner, so his healing powers weren’t very potent, but it was enough for the low-HP Iron Sphere.

“So, what are you playing?” Iris asked.

“Shogi,” Matsunaga said as he moved a piece across the board. “And if I may say, Sir Kirschwasser is quite skilled.”

“Ha ha ha.” Kirschwasser laughed and moved a piece in response. “My older brothers trained me on the game. As board games go, I am of course also skilled at mahjong.”

“There are shogi boards in this game?” asked Felicia.

“I made it using the graphic designer,” said Iris smoothly. “The pieces were all originally rings.”

She had made it to pass the copious free time she’d had while waiting for customers to enter the guild house.

Iris herself was quite good at shogi, thanks to her late grandfather’s influence, but she was still the least skilled player among the current membership of Iris Brand. She had asked for rematch after rematch in frustration, yet the young heir beat her easily every time.

Ah, but there was no point in dwelling on such infuriating things.

“Not a lot of people left on the beach, huh?” Iris asked. “I guess it’s because it’s lunchtime... Funny, I think of MMO players as people who forget to do things like eat and sleep.”

“That’s something of a stereotype... although I won’t deny its veracity,” Matsunaga responded as he studied the shogi board carefully. “However, this game monitors the player’s physiology and employs a built-in alarm system. If you ignore your hunger for too long, it will automatically log you out. The same goes for sleep, I imagine. The devs need their players in good health, after all.”

The words were logical, but Felicia tilted her head. “But isn’t there a player who’s said to have never logged out since the game started?”

“Tomakomai, you mean?” Matsunaga asked. “Yes, he is quite the mystery.”

“If he’s never logged out since the game started, shouldn’t he be dead?” Iris asked, knitting her brow.

It was a reasonable question, but the other three could neither confirm nor deny the suggestion.

“What do you think, Iris, Lady Felicia?” Sir Kirschwasser asked. “Shall we take lunch, as well?”

“Hmm, I’d like to enjoy myself while there aren’t as many people around...” Iris said.

“Me, too!” Felicia agreed, hugging Gobo-Two.

Felicia had her swimsuit, after all. Even if she couldn’t swim, she wanted to get her fill of the beach with as few people watching as possible.

“Then let’s take it easy a little while longer,” said Kirschwasser. “Ah, Lord Matsunaga, checkmate.”

There was a small, satisfying click, and Matsunaga winced. “Ah, well done...”

“Even so,” Iris said, “we can’t play beach volleyball, we can’t swim... what should we do?”

“Iris, they have Sun Oil Potions!” Felicia said, producing a suspicious-looking potion she had acquired from somewhere.

“Do you drink it? Or apply it? I wonder if it has any mechanical effect...” Iris wrinkled her nose.

“Well, I guess sunbathing in the game isn’t bad...” Iris murmured.

“Iris, do you not like getting tan?” Felicia asked.

“Not a lot,” said Iris. “It would be nice to have a tan for summer, but it limits your clothing options. What about you, Felicia?”

“I’m in the softball club, so even if I’m careful, I can get pretty dark,” she said.

“Yeah, you said you’re an all-around sports girl, right?” Iris nodded.

The two girls were chatting and drawing pictures in the sand. They couldn’t make the pictures very precise, but Iris was addicted enough to her work that whatever she tried to draw always ended up as clothing designs.

“Hmm, designs... designs...” she murmured.

“Iris, do you go to a design school?” Felicia asked. “Do you need to do design croquis drawings for summer homework?”

“Yeah, I do,” Iris said wearily. “I do. Yeah...”

Summer vacation had only just started, so there was no rush to get through it all just yet. Still, Iris was in a constant struggle with her motivation. She didn’t have any ideas now, and there was no guarantee that she might have any soon, which made the month and a half ahead of her feel very fleeting indeed. It was a type of impatience unique to creators, which made it perhaps a little difficult for Felicia to understand.

“Well, like they say, ‘The worry’s always larger than the flask,’” Felicia said.

“It’s ‘The worry’s always harder than the task,’” Iris corrected. It was an old proverb, used to encourage those facing a difficult trial ahead, but it wasn’t useful in this situation. To be able to produce things without worrying required tremendous confidence in your abilities, which was a talent all its own.

Yes, just like...

The young heir’s smiling face popped into her mind. She expressionlessly smashed the image with a backfist. She wanted confidence, but not that sort of confidence.

Yes, just like...

Like Megumi Fuyo, president and head designer of the cutting-edge fashion brand MiZUNO. Iris idolized her. She had had her own period of self-doubt long ago, it seemed, but she had overcome it, and now she stood at the vanguard of the fashion world.

At the vanguard of the fashion world, with no doubts about her own talent. She was the subject of Iris’s envy, and her inspiration, as well.

Iris was also a personal fan of her designs. Whenever there was an interview with Megumi Fuyo involved, be it on TV or in a magazine, Iris never failed to take it in. Every time she did, she felt her dream — I want to be like her! — swell grander in her mind.

“Iris? Iris?” As Iris’s thoughts carried her away, Felicia waved her hand in front of her.

Iris snapped back to the present. “Um — oh! Sorry, Felicia. What is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Felicia said. “I was just thinking, you’ve drawn a lot of clothing in the sand...”

“Oh, you’re right,” Iris said. While daydreaming, she had drawn copious line drawings in the sands of Manyfish Beach. Gobo-Two dropped out of Felicia’s arms to weave in and out between the lines.

“Well, I have a lot to think about,” Iris said. “Dreams for the future and such...”

“That got deep,” said Felicia.

“I guess it did. What about you, Felicia? Do you want to be a softball player when you grow up?”

“Hmm, my coach says that perfecting the Hydro Blaster won’t be enough to make it in the pro world, so...”

“Just how demanding is Japanese pro softball?” Iris asked incredulously. She was not the kind of person who could accept “insufficient talent” as a reason to give up. She gazed leisurely at the rolling Gobo-Two, and reached the vague conclusion that she had no choice but to keep trying her best.

That was when it happened.

Despite the beach being mostly deserted now, they heard some rather lively chatter nearby. Turning over to see, they saw a diminutive person walking towards them across the beach, drawing glances from all sides.

“Hey, I know her...” said one person.

“Yeah, the girl who has 2,000 or 3,000 friends...” a friend agreed.

Mixed in with the voices, Iris heard unreal numbers being spoken. But immediately, Felicia’s voice joined in.

“H-Hey, I think I know her.”

“Again?!” Iris couldn’t stop the thought from popping out of her mouth. “Felicia, you know a lot of amazing people!”

“Really?” Felicia asked. “Well, I was hanging out with Itchy and Kiryuhito, so I guess I ended up meeting them whether I wanted to or not.”

“Oh, I get it! Just like me with Ed and Bossman!” Iris exclaimed nervously. If this was someone else Felicia had met while hanging around with Ichiro, it couldn’t lead to anything good. Iris had a bad feeling about this. She was being swarmed by people the young heir knew today, and she couldn’t help but feel like some unknown problem he had caused was being foisted on her without warning.

Perhaps it was a baseless feeling, but it was still there.

“Er, so, Felicia, what is her name?” Iris asked.

“Ohhhh, Amesho! It’s me!” somebody called.

“You’re still the cutest in the world today!” another cried.

“Say ‘Me-ow do you do’!” a third said excitedly.

A horde of attractive but anonymous men had gathered on the beach, seemingly out of nowhere, just to praise the girl.

To be honest, Iris thought, they seemed less like friends and more like paparazzi.

“...So her name’s Amesho, then?” Iris asked, dryly.

“Yeah. Right...” Felicia nodded.

“Amesho” referred to... “American Shorthair,” then?

“That swimsuit looks great on you, Amesho!” a man called.

“Your belly button is so sexy, Amesho!” cried another.

“Even the summer sun must be jealous of you, Amesho!” praised a third.

“Me-ow do you do!” Amesho giggled back.

At last, the object of all the men’s compliments came into view.

The sight hit Iris like a lightning bolt.

That wasn’t a metaphor; in NaroFan, a significant shock to a player’s system was accompanied by a flashy lightning visual — yet another silly detail the dev team had wasted their time on — and if that player touched someone else afterwards, it dealt slight lightning attribute damage.

“What’s wrong, Iris?” Felicia asked. Despite standing next to her, she had been able to avoid damage thanks to her Iron Sphere’s enemy Skill “Lightning Rod.”

“Um, that girl Amesho...” Iris began.

“Yeah?”

“Her swimsuit’s an original design...”

“Ahh...”

“And it’s got much better fashion sense than mine!” Iris cried.

“I’ll agree with that...”

Yes, as the crowds parted and they saw the girl, they could see her petite, curveless body clad in a rather mature-looking high-fashion swimsuit. The delicate sunflower pattern spoke of the excellent taste of its designer. Despite the amount of skin on display, it didn’t look vulgar, thanks to a wholesome pareo wrapped around her hips.

Truly...

“You look like the goddess of summer, Amesho!” a man shouted.

...indeed.

Iris couldn’t even speak; the best she could manage was, “Gnnngh.” She felt like her pride had been pounded into dust. At the same time, she was starting to feel apologetic about putting Felicia in that other, more questionable swimsuit.

“Oh, it’s Felicia! Meow-hoo!” Amesho called with an enthusiastic wave. Judging from her cat ears, she was an Anthromorph, and the tail peeking out from her pareo waved back and forth in sync with her hand.

“Hey-ho, Amesho!” Felicia waved back.

“You’re lookin’ good,” Amesho said cheerfully. “Is this a new beast?”

“Yeah,” Felicia said. “It’s Gobo-Two.”

“Aww, nice to meetcha!” Amesho crouched down and patted the Iron Sphere on the “head.” The groupies crowding behind her all let out envious sighs.

Amesho didn’t seem at all bothered to have the men look at her in a swimsuit. Maybe it was just that she was used to it, but either way, it showed considerable grace.

Perhaps noticing Iris and Felicia wincing over the men’s stares, Amesho let out a little cough and suddenly started squirming. “It’s a little mew-miliating, having you all stare at me...”

At once, the men dispersed with a unified cry of distress. Truly, her fans were well-trained.

“Feelin’ better?” Amesho asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Felicia said. “Thanks. I guess you’re pretty popular, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Amesho. “They’re all my precious friends! They give me rare items and stuff all the time!”

The words gave a brief glimpse into Amesho’s calculating nature.

The catgirl then turned her eyes to Iris — who had been silent so far — with a bright smile, affable enough to make even the heart of Iris, as a fellow woman, flutter.

Iris didn’t think there were that many “smile” emotes in the game, but Amesho’s smile in that moment felt optimized to get past a person’s defenses.

“I’m Amesho. Are you Iris?”

“Y-Yeah,” Iris said. “Um, you know me?”

“Maybe,” said Amesho. “Hey, can I add you to my friends list?”

It was clearly a bit of a stock phrase, yet Iris felt no resistance to it. At the earnest-seeming girl’s urging, she accepted the friend request.

“Hee hee hee, thanks!” Amesho giggled. “Now we’re friends!”

“Ah, yeah. I guess we are...” Iris said. Something about Amesho’s smile disarmed any sense of danger about it. Iris knew she was being grifted, yet she couldn’t refuse her.

“Hey, Amesho. Did you make that swimsuit?” Felicia cut in with the question Iris was finding so hard to ask.

“Oh, nyah. It was made for me as part of a finder’s fee.”

“Made for you?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah,” said Amesho.

“Um... by whom?” Felicia asked.

“Nem.”

The word caused Iris to freeze.

That name was familiar.

Not just familiar. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a name she couldn’t have forgotten if she tried. The woman who, as part of some conflict she was having with the young heir, had come in and picked a fight with her.

Iris remembered Nem’s words well. It’s nothing. Unlike the incident with Edward, Nem had been referring to her design sense, which had given the words an extra sting.

Now, she found out that the swimsuit that filled her with such a crippling feeling of inferiority had been made by Nem.

Amesho giggled at the contortions in Iris’s expression. “I heard what happened between you and Nem. You really are jealous of her purr-fect fashion sense, huh?”

“Yeah...” Iris murmured. It was a rather mean-spirited thing to say, but Iris wasn’t so narrow-minded as to fly into a rage over it. She could admit it: the aesthetic ability required to offhandedly design something like the swimsuit Amesho was wearing was fatally lacking in her right now.

At the same time, she couldn’t understand why someone with so much talent would bother picking a fight with her. The young heir had admitted she was being drawn into some kind of crossfire between him and Nem. But why Iris?

“Actually, Iris...” Amesho whispered into Iris’s ear as the young designer scowled, deep in thought. “...Nem’s here right me-ow. You wanna just talk to her?”

At those words, Iris looked up. “Nem is... here?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be best for both of you,” Amesho said.

It was true that Iris had to find out once and for all what exactly Nem had against her. Judging from the woman’s behavior, it didn’t seem like a problem they could just talk out, but still, it was unsettling to have someone holding such a grudge against her and not to know the reason why. There was also a distinct possibility that Nem was just under a misapprehension.

But just as she was thinking that...

“There you are,” a voice said. “I’ve been searching everywhere.”

Iris didn’t even have to wonder who it was.

“Whoa, speak of the devil,” Felicia said.

“Excuse me,” the woman rebuked Felicia for her rude exclamation.

It was Nem. She was standing there, arms folded. Although she had apparently designed Amesho’s bathing suit, she herself was still dressed the way she had been in the guild house previously. Either way, it was armor she had designed that put her taste on full display, and that was enough to inflame Iris’s sense of inferiority.

“Meow-hoo, Nem!” Amesho cried. “I’m lovin’ the swimsuit!”

“...I am happy to hear that,” Nem replied tersely to Amesho’s bright and cheery exclamation.

“Nem, you’re not gonna wear a swimsuit?” Amesho asked.

“Yes, I’d prefer not to,” Nem said.

“But the two behind you are wearing ‘em...”

Just as Amesho had observed, there were a man and a woman standing behind Nem in swimsuits that looked like her designs. An Anthromorph man and a Human girl. The girl carried a parasol and wore a lace bikini with a flower pattern, while the man wore boomerang pants done up in white and indigo. Despite the little fabric involved, Nem’s design sense still shone through.

They hadn’t even been competing, yet Iris felt like she had lost. She only barely managed to remain in her right mind by focusing her eyes on the shark inner tube the man was holding at his side.

“Taker and Sorceress, you both look so good!” Amesho exclaimed.

“Our guild leader told us to wear them,” Taker said flatly. “What could we do?”

“Well, I like mine,” said Sorceress. “It’s nice. I have so few opportunities to wear them in the real world.”

The two players standing behind her, exchanging light banter, appeared to be more of Amesho’s “friends.” Hesitantly, Iris repeated one word that had caught her attention.

“‘Guild’?”

“Yes, guild,” Nem confirmed. “I found it necessary to have one in order to settle things with you, Iris.”

“W-Wait a minute...” Iris panicked as she saw the challenge in Nem’s eyes. “I, um, I don’t see what I’ve done to earn your... wrath...”

It wasn’t that she was trying to back out. If this woman was going to throw down a gauntlet, she’d have no choice but to pick it up. But she wasn’t going to do that without understanding the reason why.

No, that’s a lie, Iris thought as she analyzed herself objectively. She did want to back out, a little. To be honest, seeing Nem’s design sense on display like this — with Amesho’s swimsuit, Nem’s outfit, Taker’s swimsuit, and Sorceress’s swimsuit all in a row — made her realize all the more acutely how distant the prospect of victory was for her.

“I feel no wrath towards you whatsoever,” Nem insisted.

It was hard to believe, though. There was something very black in the woman’s gaze whenever she looked at Iris. What could it be, besides fury or loathing?

“Then what’s your problem?” Iris asked. “It’s got something to do with the young heir, right?”

As Iris said that, Nem fell silent, and the emotion in her gaze grew even more intense.

“Just what did he do to you?” Iris pressed.

“He...” Nem began, staring intently at Iris’s swimsuit. “He likes the brooch and the clothing you design very much, doesn’t he?”

“Y-Yeah,” Iris said. “Well... Yeah.”

Iris’s noncommittal answer stemmed from her mixed emotions on the matter. The fact that the young heir liked her designs was one of the few things Iris could take pride in; at the same time, she was ashamed that the only one who liked them had to be someone so odious. She would have preferred to have the approval of the world at large, but that wasn’t to say she wasn’t happy about his approval. It was a complicated feeling.

But what problem, exactly, did Nem have with that?

Iris waited patiently for a response, but Nem said nothing more.

Just as she was beginning to find the silence unbearable, Felicia finally tilted her head, and spoke in Iris’s place. “Um, is that it?”

Nem looked up with stern eyes, glaring first at Felicia, then at Iris. “It is a very serious problem for me!” Her frenzied cry caught the attention of the various men playing around on the beach. “After all, it’s bizarre! And I am not the kind of person to criticize the design work of others!”

“But you said ‘It’s nothing’ before, didn’t you?” Iris asked.

“Because it is nothing!” Nem cried.

And yet, the fact that she had said that was far from nothing.

Iris was aware that the difference between her designs and Nem’s was like the difference between a mud puddle and a cloud. But having the woman sneer like that to her face was a serious shock to her system. The force of it just left her with her mouth flapping uselessly.

“Um...” It was Felicia who ended up speaking for her. “So what you’re saying is, you can’t understand why Itchy likes Iris’s designs?”

Nem fixed her eyes on her, then gave a single, emphatic nod.

“I d-don’t know what you want me to do about that...” It took all of Iris’s presence of mind just to wring those words out from her throat.

Damn, she cursed internally.

Nem was being utterly unreasonable. It should have made her furious, but when she tried to respond, that was the best she could muster. It was pathetic, yet the phenomenon she had seen so often in battle manga — where an overwhelming difference in power sapped a hero’s will to fight — appeared to have some truth to it. After being shown Nem’s polished design sense, and hearing words like that, there was no way that her soul could fail to break.

Nem probably had recognition from many more people than Iris did. She had the talent to earn the acceptance of herself and others. Why should she care so much about the opinion of the young heir? Why was she so obsessed with that man, to the point of picking a fight with someone so far beneath her?

“Being judged on your talent is an awful, cruel thing...” Amesho said, almost as if to answer Iris’s question.

That was when Iris realized the true nature of the emotion she was seeing in Nem’s eyes. She had thought the blackness in her gaze was hatred or anger, but thinking about it rationally, it was an emotion much closer to Iris’s heart.

Jealousy.

In school, Iris herself had looked this way at girls who were at the same grade level, yet produced better work than her. At times like that, people lost the ability to look objectively at their work and became obsessed with their preconceived notion of “I’m supposed to be better than you.”

Oh, no, Iris thought. It was the Edward incident all over again. But this time, it was different. This time, Nem really was far, far better than her...

“Iris,” the woman said.

“Y-Yes?!” Iris shot ramrod straight under Nem’s unwavering glare. She knew how pathetic she must look right now. She was just glad that man wasn’t here to see it.

“What I want to know is, what is it that Ichiro likes about you so much?” Nem asked.

“H-How should I know? Ask him!”

Damn, she cursed internally once more.

Damn that young heir. Ever since he had told her that he knew this woman, she had had a bad feeling about what was to come. But she hadn’t thought it would be this severe. She knew what this was, now: some kind of mad infatuation.

You take the reins of this madwoman! she wanted to cry.

Of course, that assumption came purely from Iris’s own biases and preconceptions, but knowing it was the result of Ichiro’s totally lassiez-faire attitude towards everyone suggested she couldn’t be completely off the mark. Really, both women were victims here.

Iris’s mind continued to churn, struggling to find a way out of this fire, either by running or breaking through it, when...

“A-Amesho...” Felicia asked the cat-eared girl, with an air of hesitance.

“Mmyeah?”

“D-Does this atmosphere seem a little dangerous to you?” Felicia asked.

“Mm, guess so.”

A situation this serious, dismissed with, “Mm, guess so”? Iris looked spitefully towards Amesho. She was the one who’d proposed they “talk it out,” yet here she was, watching the situation with only the mildest of interest.

Amesho wasn’t going to keep Nem in line. There was no way of even knowing what she was thinking.

What about the two Nem had brought with her, then? Iris looked towards the two avatars, apparently named Taker and Sorceress. As usual, Taker was standing bolt-upright, holding his shark inner tube with a sour look on his bizarre, beast-like face. Sorceress was casually twirling her parasol, sipping a Tropical Potion she had picked up at some point through a straw. Frankly, neither of them could be counted on, either. They were on Nem’s side to begin with.

“It looks like the situation has become rather complicated,” a voice said.

Iris was just starting to think that if things got really bad, she could just log out, when help arrived from an angle she had previously completely forgotten. It was the tea-serving silver fox, the Knight Sir Kirschwasser.

Iris turned back to him, her expression suddenly brightening. Even the sight of that Full Plate Armor of his, so stifling under the hot summer sun, did not change how reassured she was to see his gentle smile.

Nem cast him a suspicious glance.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but I fear I cannot let this continue,” Kirschwasser replied.

“We met before at Iris’s guild house, didn’t we?” Nem asked. “Who are you?”

“I am a servant to the house of Tsuwabuki. My name is Kirschwasser.” The clench of his gauntleted hand was accompanied by a heavy clink of metal. Then he smiled, a teasing smile of a sort Iris and the others rarely saw from him, and continued. “Oh, and I am his live-in servant in real life, as well.”

Nem was taken completely off-guard by his words. Her eyes opened wide, and she glared at Kirschwasser anew.

This reaction... yes, it was definitely infatuation. Iris felt a bit weary about it all. First Felicia, now Nem... didn’t any of them have proper taste in men?

Either way, Kirschwasser was male, and couldn’t be any kind of proper rival to her. Still, Iris was a little surprised; she hadn’t expected to see him say something that would further stir the pot.

“Me-wow,” Amesho exclaimed. “Kirsch, are you like a butler?”

“I am.” Whether he was aware of Iris’s surprise or not, Kirschwasser answered Amesho’s question calmly. “But all that aside...” He returned things to the main subject as he stepped in between Iris’s group and Nem’s. “...if we are to talk, it seems appropriate that we should cool our heads first. It seems to me that you are both failing to communicate with the other.”

“This is none of your business,” Nem snapped.

“That is untrue. Tsuwabuki himself told me that if anything was to happen, I was to keep things under control in his stead.” Kirschwasser’s words seemed to be especially directed towards Nem, who kept trying to label him as an outsider.

The emotion in Nem’s eyes grew more intense as she glared at the Knight. Kirschwasser’s in-game combat role was primarily that of a tank, and while that was more or less irrelevant here, he seemed rather skilled at drawing interpersonal aggro, as well.

“For now, it is just about noon,” Kirschwasser said. “Why don’t we have some lunch? I believe it’s necessary that we cool our heads, Lady Nem.”

His calm suggestion that they disperse for an hour seemed to be an attempt to diffuse the situation. Iris put a relieved hand to her chest, grateful to Kirschwasser. If the young heir had been here, he might have just poured oil on the flames. How nice it was to have a mature man around!

Nem seemed less enthusiastic about Kirschwasser’s suggestion, which must have seemed to her more like an escape plan. It was only natural; if she let them leave now, there was no guarantee they’d log in again.

But...

“Let’s do as he says, Leader.” The man who had been quiet the entire time — in other words, the strange Anthromorph, Taker, who was hugging the shark inner tube — said to Nem, without mincing words.

“I’m in favor, too,” replied Sorceress, releasing the straw of the Tropical Potion in her mouth long enough to agree. “If they had just wanted to run away, they could have already logged out with the press of a button. I think we should be grateful they even made the offer.”

Her two guild mates both seemed quite a bit more level-headed than Nem was. A more penetrating consideration of them would suggest that they weren’t very deeply connected to Nem — they were in the same guild, but they were less like friends and more like hired hands.

“...Very well.” It seemed Nem’s two mercenaries had convinced her to show some restraint. “I agree to your offer. We’ll meet here again in an hour and a half. Is that acceptable?”

“Certainly,” Sir Kirschwasser said. “Does that seem agreeable, Iris?”

“Um, y-yeah. Yeah. I’ll be here.” Iris was rather taken aback by the question, since Kirschwasser had completely taken over the discussion otherwise, but she agreed.

Nem turned her eyes, still lit with malice, towards her once again, and spoke. “I shall take my leave, then. Good day, Iris, Kirschwasser.”

“What about me?!” Felicia cried out hysterically, still holding Gobo-Two. Naturally, she received no response as Nem, Taker, and Sorceress all logged out.

The only ones left on the beach now were Iris, Kirschwasser, Felicia (with Gobo-Two), and Amesho.

Well, and also a few rubberneckers scattered here and there who had been watching the proceedings. After all, just seeing women in the game was rare enough, and here there had been tons of women in swimsuits all in one place.

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to go away...” Iris said immediately after Nem left.

“Indeed,” Kirschwasser said. “And from the way Lady Amesho and Lord Matsunaga were acting, I suspect that they wanted it to happen.” Kirschwasser cast a glance at Amesho, who was just flashing peace signs at them unconcernedly. “Is Nem your friend, too?”

“Hmm, nyota friend yet, I guess,” said Amesho. “Nem’s the kind of person who’s gotta be careful how she chooses her friends. I decided not to put myself in the running.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but also suggested some consideration for Nem. Which part better reflected the cat’s true nature? Iris, who had only been her “friend” for about half an hour, couldn’t say.

“Mr. Kirsch... Um, wh-what are we gonna do?” Felicia asked timidly. Iris was curious about that, too, but Kirschwasser just shrugged.

“I cannot say. If it comes to it, I shall bear the brunt of her wrath. But first, I feel we should hear her out. Isn’t that right, Lord Matsunaga?” Kirschwasser looked towards the smiling, nasty Elf who was eating a Shaved Ice Potion near the cabana.

“Now, why would you ask me that?” the Elf asked. As usual, there was something sticky in his smile. The strawberry milk concoction seemed painfully unsuited to him.

“Did she receive not only Lady Amesho’s sponsorship, but yours, as well?” Sir Kirschwasser asked.

“I won’t claim that she didn’t,” he shrugged. “But there’s not much that I can tell you... In the end, this is between Nem and Iris.”

Iris would have liked to raise an objection to that. It was the young heir’s fault that Nem was picking a fight with her, so how was she supposed to know what to do? If Nem had a problem with anything, she should really ask the young heir about it.

It was all such a murky business.

Noting Iris’s scowl, Kirschwasser smiled wryly. “Were you bothered by Lady Nem’s attitude?”

“Yeah...” Iris said. “I mean, who cares that the young heir likes me?”

“I care!” Felicia insisted, hugging Gobo-Two.

Iris could understand the sentiment, certainly, but... “She’s so talented compared to me. Why is she worried about that one minor thing?”

“That is another reason I wanted you to both reflect upon the matter with cooler heads,” said Kirschwasser. “It is just as in the incident with Lord Edward. You are not at fault, and therefore, you may comport yourself with confidence. That is how Master Ichiro feels, as well.”

“So who is at fault?” Iris demanded.

“It would not be my place to say,” Kirschwasser responded. “Regardless of with whom the fault lies, I will follow my orders.”

“I thought you’d say something like that...”

Kirschwasser’s refusal to speak ill of his master stemmed from unwavering loyalty — an admirable trait, perhaps. But knowing Kirschwasser would shield her — literally — did made Iris feel better.

“Now, I believe it’s just about lunchtime,” said Kirschwasser. “Let us log out and eat. Cliché though it may be to say, one cannot wage war on an empty stomach.”

“You think there’s gonna be a war?” Felicia asked unhappily.

“It would only be responsible to prepare for one, although I wonder if it could be avoidable...” Kirschwasser murmured, all the while staring into the distance, knowingly.