4 - Noble Son, Scheme

That day, Ichiro Tsuwabuki attended a party held by an acquaintance of his. It was the sort of party he was always called to, one that brought together great men and women from all over the world. In other words, trivial nonsense. Ichiro wasn’t so magnanimous as to show up just to bolster his acquaintances, and it would have been easy to refuse them. But just this once, on a whim, he decided to attend.

After the usual boring greetings and announcements, the mingling began, with a standing buffet. The tables were set with luxurious dishes prepared by the hotel’s top-of-the-line chef, and as he looked all around him, he couldn’t help but think how amusing it would be to have Asuha there.

Among the attendees, Ichiro saw a face he knew very well. With a wineglass in hand and no timidity whatsoever, he approached her.

“Hello, Megumi.”

Megumi Fuyo trembled as she saw him. “I-Ichiro...”

“There’s no need to be so afraid,” he said.

If Sakurako had been there, she would have said, with a sigh, “You’re the only one who thinks that.” But right now, she was in a car in the parking garage, no doubt fervently browsing the NaroFan wiki. It seemed she was finally intending to use the present he’d gotten her for her birthday. She had asked his opinion on choosing a girl for her second character, but lacking any opinion on the matter, he had ignored the question.

But for now...

For now, there was Megumi Fuyo. She had likely picked out her own dress. It was rather subdued, for her, but it was a fine quality dress that displayed her usual excellent taste.

“I heard that you met Iris,” he said.

“Yes,” Megumi replied after some hesitation, lowering her eyes.

“She’s had her share of difficulties, but she seems intent on hitting you with everything she’s got,” Ichiro said. “What about you, Megumi?”

“I...” Megumi seemed less than enthusiastic to see him. Or perhaps it was more that there were emotions piling up in her heart that she hadn’t yet figured out how to deal with. Perhaps she couldn’t express herself clearly because she hadn’t expected to see Ichiro today, and hadn’t yet figured out how best to interact with him when she did.

The source of her awkwardness must be their most recent interaction in the game, Ichiro guessed.

He had nearly ended things with “Nem” then. Of course, he had not really wanted to lose a friend in such a way, but her selfishness had been causing trouble for his other friends, and he simply could not have allowed that to continue.

But then the one Nem had made the most trouble for, Iris, had stayed his hand. She had said she wasn’t bothered, and furthermore, that “this problem is between me and her, so stay out of it.” As a result, Ichiro had managed to avoid having to cut Megumi off entirely. He wasn’t sure how much Iris had thought those words through before she’d said them, but he did feel grateful to her, at least.

Meanwhile, Megumi likely had complicated feelings to work through. She wasn’t stupid. She must have known what Ichiro had been about to say.

Thus, he decided he should make himself clear. “If it’s about that, then don’t worry. I think of you as a very dear friend, Megumi. Iris’s statement has allowed our relationship to remain unchanged.”

Upon hearing those words, Megumi Fuyo finally raised her head. “A... friend?”

“Yes. A friend. I hope I have made it clear that I do not wish for anything beyond that.”

“You’re as cruel as ever,” Megumi said with a smile. He could tell it was a bit forced, but still, it was a more genuine smile than he’d been expecting. “Ichiro, this party venue is the place we first met. I wonder if you remember that...”

“Yes, it was ten years ago,” he replied without hesitation, flipping back to one bookmark in his memory. “And ever since then, Megumi, you’ve always chosen your own clothing, haven’t you? Though at the party where we next met, you were wearing an extremely uncontroversial dress.”

Her eyes opened in surprise. “You remembered?”

“Yes, I did.” He did have confidence in his memory. (Of course, he had confidence in his everything.)

“That day... I was so happy that you appreciated the clothing I had chosen for myself,” said Nem.

“Ah.”

Megumi’s smile began to grow more natural as she recounted more of her memories of those days. It was Ichiro’s first time hearing these private thoughts from her.

How much his words that day had encouraged her. How they had inspired her to choose her current path. Megumi spoke about it all with such pleasure, and Ichiro was pleased by her very fine smile. Each time she spoke of something that had happened between them, he flipped to the bookmark in his own memory and confirmed it.

“I remember the first time I saw that brooch, too,” Megumi said, gazing at the unsightly brooch currently nesting on Ichiro’s lapel.

“I suppose that’s our most recent memory together,” he answered.

“Yes, it truly surprised me. Because... I couldn’t believe you would come wearing a brooch so... utterly lacking in taste.”

“Ah.” It was a more frank remark than she usually made, but he wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

“It was such a shock, and it made me so frustrated,” she said. “I wanted to find out what you liked so much about that brooch so that I could make something like it.”

“But you couldn’t.”

Megumi nodded in response to Ichiro’s simplest of statements. “It’s caused me to lose all confidence in myself. When I think about how I lost to something so amateurish... I couldn’t help but feel that everything I’ve believed in up until now had been for nothing.”

Ichiro could have made any number of rude observations. That it wasn’t all about winning and losing. That her dismissal of the brooch was just a revelation of her own limits.

But that would be nonsense. Instead, he merely closed his eyes and listened to Megumi’s words.

Such things were not the true core of the problem. The fact was, right now, she was experiencing a setback. She wouldn’t be able to move on until she overcame it, nor would she be able to understand what was “good” about Iris’s designs until then.

“So...” At last, Megumi looked straight into Ichiro’s eyes and spoke: “I will not lose.”

A deep, powerful declaration.

Ichiro nodded silently in response. “I know.”

That was all that he could say. He would not say whether it was Iris or Nem who would win. It was not he who would decide that. This competition was between Megumi Fuyo and Iris alone, and to say anything to diminish that... that would be true nonsense.

Megumi looked like whatever had been haunting her had now lifted. “It feels so good to get all that off my chest...”

Ichiro replied with a shrug. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“But for all I’ve said about her, I am a bit grateful to Iris,” Megumi continued with a beaming expression. “If she hadn’t intervened just then, you would have said something terrible to me, wouldn’t you have?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been pleasant for you to hear, I’m sure,” said Ichiro. “I suspect it wouldn’t have been pleasant for me to say, either. So I, too, am grateful to Iris.”

“She is a good girl, isn’t she?” asked Megumi.

“I hope you’ll say that to her when it’s all over,” said Ichiro. “I believe you could be a very good friend to Iris, Megumi.”

Megumi looked shocked by Ichiro’s frank proclamation. “Me? A friend to Iris?”

“Yes.” In fact, that was the inverse of how Ichiro really felt. It was Iris whom he believed would be a very good friend to Megumi. What he grasped from what Megumi had told him was that she had been unable to make friends on equal footing to her. Even Azami Nono, the closest in position among those she knew, could not be a true friend as long as their businesses were entangled.

Iris had the mettle to try to deal with everyone around her as an equal, regardless of their position. He suspected that was a hard thing for Megumi to find.

“I see... In that case, that’s all the more reason to fight my hardest,” Megumi whispered.

“Iris told me not to interfere in any way,” said Ichiro.

“I fully agree,” Megumi said firmly. Ichiro had never seen her so steeled about anything. There was a certain nobility in it. “I must defeat Iris with my own power. I do not want anyone interfering, either.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.” Those words finally cleared up one of the doubts Ichiro had been holding in his heart. “I’m sorry to bring it up in such an unrelated venue, but if I may, I’d like to toast to your upcoming battle.”

“Certainly.” With an expression of renewed decisiveness, Megumi raised her glass, nodded, and brought her glass to Ichiro’s.

The cold clink between them could barely be heard above the din of the party around them.

“Welcome back, Ichiro-sama,” Sakurako Ogi greeted him as he arrived in the underground parking lot.

“Yes, thank you,” he answered. “Could we set out right away?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Do you want to go straight home?”

“Hmm... yes. I think that might be best.”

With practiced motions, Sakurako opened the back door of the Lincoln, and Ichiro slid in and sat down. He noticed that she had a smartphone and a college-ruled notebook sitting in the passenger seat; she really must have been scouring the wiki the entire time.

In the driver’s seat, Sakurako fastened her seatbelt over her maid’s apron. She released the parking brake, flicked the white sedan’s headlights on, and started it rolling slowly forward. As always, she was very cautious in her driving, checking left and right before each turn.

“While you were at the party, I managed to choose the general direction for my second character,” Sakurako explained as she eased the sedan out of the parking lot.

“So you are going to make one?” Ichiro asked.

“Well, it was your birthday present to me,” she said. “It would be a waste not to use it effectively!”

“I wonder if you’ve used the plamodels I gave you last year effectively.”

“I have. I really have.”

He had known Sakurako for five years, and he had given her five birthday presents. It was all right to buy her clothing and accessories and such, and it would likely have made her happy enough. But instead, each time, he had bought her something relevant to her hobbies. He didn’t understand those hobbies, but he had never failed to buy her something she wanted.

His present to her this time had been a Narrow Fantasy Online premium package. As usual, it was an unopened return, bought at a steep markup. Sakurako had been plainly overjoyed when she’d seen what was inside... but to list the details of her reaction here would be an affront to her dignity, so let’s move on.

“Does having a second character mean you’ll retire Sir Kirschwasser?” Ichiro asked.

“Certainly not,” she declared. “I just want to enjoy the game in a new way for a little while. Kirschwasser will always be my main!”

“Oh?” Ichiro had no idea what was the standard practice for things like this.

Second characters were common in games with liberal character editing systems, particularly online games. According to Sakurako, male and female characters had access to different equipment and class fighting styles, so she was going to make a second character to enjoy that aspect of it. He didn’t really understand it, but that seemed reasonable enough.

“I’m still not sure if I’ll join Iris Brand or not...” Sakurako said. “Ah, but I wonder if I might ask you to help me level up, Ichiro-sama.”

“I wouldn’t mind, but with fewer Warp Feathers on the market, it will take me some time to reach Starter Town,” he responded.

“Oh, that’s right! You’re out of them, too...” Sakurako stopped the car at a red light and slumped in disappointment. “I saw an aggregate article about that on Matsunaga’s blog, too. People seem pretty upset about it. They’re saying the devs had better deal with it soon...”

It was now the third day of someone buying up all the Warp Feathers and limiting their availability on the market. It was certainly about the time player patience tended to start running out with such things. He’d heard it was starting to have serious ramifications on players’ abilities to get around in the game.

The front-line Achievers were in a particularly wretched state because they couldn’t return to Glasgobara Merchant Town for restoration of their weapons and armor from the Alchemists and Blacksmiths. Instead, a few gutsy crafting class players were seeing it as a business opportunity, and were going to the front lines to offer their services personally.

“But what can you do about them being bought out?” Sakurako pondered. “Is it even possible to buy them out? I suppose it is, since we can see it happening, but you would think other players would try to stop it...”

“I may have an idea, but it’s only a hypothesis for now, so I won’t say it.”

“Oh, really?” Sakurako turned, unconsciously, but Ichiro just shrugged.

“The light is green.”

“Oops!” Sakurako started the car moving once more. “And NaroFan prohibits RMT, too! So there’s no way you can use your money to resolve it...”

“It’s a smart policy, so I don’t mind it,” he said. Most MMORPG titles forbade “Real Money Trade,” or the process of exchanging game goods for real-life funds and vice versa, and VRMMOs were no different. Sakurako’s comment referred to the fact that, because RMT was forbidden, it was even harder to understand what someone might hope to gain by buying up all the Warp Feathers.

“But you have an idea of who it is, right?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “And since you’re making a second character, perhaps I could ask you to investigate.”

“Oho!” Sakurako seemed happy to hear that suggestion. “A maid-investigator... It’s like The Housekeeper Saw! Ah, maybe I’ll make my second class a Shinobi after all!”

“Sakurako-san, I’m glad that you’re happy, but please watch where you’re driving,” Ichiro warned Sakurako, who was gripping the wheel with a grin.

That reminded him: Iris would probably be in the middle of the part-time job he’d arranged for her around now. Ichiro gazed out the window.

His thoughts were not anything so laudable as, “I hope she’s doing okay,” but much closer to the certainty of, “She’s probably not doing very well.”

In a way, this indicated a significant trust that Ichiro had for Iris.

I think this is gonna kill me... Airi thought.

Airi Kakitsubata was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up.

But what she was wearing right now was not the flashy casual fashion that young girls loved, nor a stylish formal dress that drew all eyes to her in envy. It was a thick plush oven encasing a hell of sweaty humidity.

That’s right: it was a mascot costume.

The part-time job Ichiro had mediated for her was being part of a PR campaign for a new arcade. She was currently walking around Akihabara, helping the campaign girl hand out fliers. She had thought this might be a chance to get a glimpse at the young heir’s real face, but he hadn’t turned up. Though now that she thought about it, maybe that was for the best. It meant he wouldn’t have to see her in this disgraceful state.

Apparently the arcade had been having understaffing issues, and they hadn’t been able to secure a mascot performer for the day. Thus Airi, who’d just happened to need a job for that day, had been extremely welcome.

She’d confessed that she’d never done it before, but the old man running things had just smiled and said, “You’ll be fine. Just strike cute poses.”

Airi had thought that sounded simple enough, but once she’d put the costume on, she’d realized... she had no idea what a cute pose was.

Ugh... I think I’m gonna barf... Airi thought, twisting her face into a nauseated expression.

Beside her, the campaign girl, handing out fliers to passersby, seemed to be cool as a cucumber. Airi wished she could strip off the costume—as well as her clothing—and run screaming down the thoroughfare in just her underwear.

“Hi! Akihabara Cybertown is having its grand opening! Hope to see you there!” The campaign girl was putting everything she had into handing out the fliers, flashing a charming smile to everyone around her. Her exposed chest area seemed to draw the gazes of all the passing men.

Yeah... guys can’t resist that, can they? thought Airi. Those poor creatures could not resist their base instincts.

Airi herself was of the species “girl,” a creature that instinctively gave a wide berth to the otaku who made up most of Akihabara’s population. Even so, she was stunned by the professionalism of the young woman in being willing to wield her breasts as a tool to get attention. Even though the campaign girl was likely a few years older than herself, Airi couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to young people’s sense of virtue nowadays.

To play the mascot, which she wasn’t sure if it was creepy or cute (she’d like to see who designed the thing), Airi swayed side to side, bent her knees a little, and waved enthusiastically. But it was hard for her to really lose herself in the role of a cute thing when the environment was so negative. It was hot, it was humid, and it stank; it was no place for a 17-year-old girl.

In the midst of smiling and handing out fliers, the campaign girl cast a glance in Airi’s direction and gave her a pat on the shoulder. It was the sign for checking to see if she was okay. The campaign girl was attractive, gregarious, considerate, and she had a large chest: truly a woman with everything.

It’s okay, I can keep going, Airi thought. She didn’t say it out loud, but she waved her arms energetically to make the point. She would receive a bonus to her wages if she gave out all the fliers by the deadline, which meant she had to keep going.

All this work would net her 15,000 yen—20,000 if she got the bonus. It was just enough to buy a single outfit from MiZUNO’s new summer line. Airi had never realized that earning the money for just one outfit could be so forbidding.

Hard work is worth respecting... The words floated up in her heat-addled mind. She had gained even more gratitude for her parents, who both worked. A whole day’s worth of suffering was worth only two portraits of Yukichi Fukuzawa. (That is to say, two 10,000-yen bills.)

“Wow, what an outfit! Can I get a picture?”

A group of young people in tawdry outfits had started talking to the campaign girl. Airi had heard there were a lot of young people in Akihabara like this these days, too, but it was still a bit surprising to see them. The woman’s ability to respond with “Oh, of course!” without the slightest wince was another sign of her professionalism.

Airi had reached a conclusion: exposed flesh was a way of drawing men’s attention.

It had been the same way at the beach in NaroFan the other day. Both in the real world or the game world, the ratio of flesh-colored elements to non- was one secret to popularity. In addition, though she didn’t want to admit it, in a male-centric environment like Narrow Fantasy Online, it was a clear shortcut to getting votes.

She remembered Edward’s words: the needs of the audience. If she could match them...

Airi managed to finish processing that information in her overcooked mind. She had to undress Felicia. That was the only way.

Immediately after that thought entered her mind, Airi felt a dull impact against her side. “Ghh...” A groan nearly escaped her lips, but she bit it back.

Right now, I’m a cute mascot.

She tried to ascertain who it was who had hit her, but her visibility was too limited.

“Whoa! What’s this thing? Creepy!” The voice—high-pitched, male, and prepubescent—was coming from directly in front of her, but the costume wasn’t equipped to let her look downwards. The voice was followed by another hard impact.

Whoosh.

In that instant, Airi felt the black flame that lived inside of her rage to life. If given form, the feeling would spell out the words “This stupid brat.”

Airi Kakitsubata was no bodhisattva. She was just an ordinary, average girl, and the fuse on her temper had limits.

“Hey, hitting’s not nice! Don’t do that, okay?” The angelic campaign girl broke the two apart before Airi could explode. “Our little mascot is gonna go bye-bye for a while! See you later, everyone!”

As if sensing Airi reaching her breaking point, the girl dragged Airi off by a hand while waving to the crowd with the other. She led her into the arcade, which was not yet open. It was then, for the first time, that Airi learned the name of the possibly-cute, possibly-creepy mascot she was playing.

The instant they got into the break room, the angelic campaign girl removed the head from her mascot outfit. “Great work out there. It must have been hard!”

“Ah, yeah...” Airi wiped the sweat off her face with a towel, then refilled her sports drink. Just mustering those words took everything she had. The young heir had told her to bring clothes that were easy to move in, so she’d assumed it would be hard labor of some sort, but she hadn’t imagined it would be this bad.

Airi was a fashionable girl who never left the house without makeup on. Today, thinking she would probably sweat, she had avoided her usual makeup routine for a bare minimum application, but even that had melted away in just the first ten minutes.

“Airi, was it?” the girl asked. “You’ve got such a great complexion! Are you still in your teens?”

“I’m 17.”

“Oh, a high school student!” The campaign girl sat down next to Airi and fanned her with the binder in her hands. “You chose a pretty tough job, even if it is just for one day, huh?”

“I needed... money, so...” Airi was normally the kind of person who had no trouble chatting it up with people she’d just met. But right now, she was so groggy, she almost couldn’t finish a single sentence. She was only now just barely managing to recover presence of mind as she drank in the fresh oxygen around her. “Earning money... it’s hard, huh?”

“It certainly is!” the campaign girl agreed. “But did you really need it so suddenly? Couldn’t you borrow it from your parents?”

“That would... defeat the point...” Airi managed. There was no way she could explain the situation that would convince her parents to lend her the money. “Win or lose, I have to do it on my own...”

“Oh, is it a competition? The life-on-the-line kind?” the girl asked.

“Sort of, yeah...” This job certainly made Airi feel like she might die in the pursuit. A whole day’s work that made her want to throw up her hands—or maybe just throw up, period—would net her just a couple of 10,000-yen bills. Holding a job for the first time had made her realize just how much money 10,000 yen was.

It was a lot of money.

A lot of money!

The weight of one of those Yukichi Fukuzawas in her wallet was something Airi now grasped, both mentally and physically. It wasn’t that she had never appreciated how precious money was, but this was her first time really grasping its weight.

“But Airi, the way you work so hard, I wouldn’t think it was your first time.” The angelic campaign girl brought a soda from the vending machine and handed it to Airi. “I think you might have a real talent for this. If you ever need more money, come back to us, okay?”

Airi winced as she accepted the bottle. This was a talent she could do without. The only talent she wanted was that of a fashion designer; getting praised in other arenas was nothing to celebrate.

Being judged on one’s talent was a cruel thing. She wondered if Megumi Fuyo felt the same way.

Despite being in the mascot suit, Airi dexterously managed to get the cap off the bottle and bring it to her mouth.

The angelic campaign girl gazed on in quiet amazement. “I really think you are a natural...”

Ah, why did humans have to be born with such unnecessary talents?

“Hi-ho! Kiryuuu!” Asuha called.

Sera Kiryu greeted Asuha’s entrance with an uncomfortable frown, then spoke a delayed, “Hey.”

“What’s with that reaction?” she said indignantly.

“Well, I didn’t think you would really come...” With that, Sera’s focus returned to the TV in the corner of the room. There were a variety of game consoles, both new and old, collected on the TV stand, almost all systems Asuha didn’t recognize.

“Ah... did you not want me here?” she asked.

“No, it’s not that,” Sera said. “I just didn’t think you’d want to hang out until you finished your homework.”

“You’ve been playing games, too, Kiryu!”

As Asuha astutely pointed out, Sera was indeed using an old mouse-gray controller to manipulate a pixelated character on the screen. It was clearly some sort of fighting game.

But Sera’s response came back lightly. “Yeah, I’m finished.”

“You are?! But it’s only July!” Asuha exclaimed.

“Yeah. Oh, I mean, I still have my diary to do...”

Sera cast a glance to the study table in the corner, and Asuha’s gaze followed. Indeed, as if to assert her friend’s methodological approach, a neat stack of notebooks sat on the desk.

Like any student, Asuha had had the notion pounded into her head every year that a good student always finished all their summer homework in July. But she had never once put it into practice. She always said, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” and the result was notebooks full of blank pages. She never seemed to grasp that after ten “I’ll do it tomorrow”s, July would reach its end, and after forty of them, summer would be over.

So, while Asuha was off shifting the burden to her future self, Sera Kiryu was actually doing it. Asuha couldn’t believe it.

“It’s true,” Sera insisted.

“But I really can’t believe it...” Asuha said.

“You can look, if you want,” her friend said without looking away from the screen.

“I-I can look?” Asuha had had an ulterior motive for coming here. She would come to Sera’s house to play, knowing her friend would be ahead of her, then copy everything she needed. But those words—“You can look, if you want”—caused those wicked thoughts to shrivel away.

Asuha hesitated, and then at last, decided to abandon the idea. She really did have to do her own homework.

She plopped down next to her friend. “How come you’re not using a flat-screen?”

“You lose response time on an LED,” said Sera. “I’d prefer a commercial cabinet, but they’re expensive. Even the commercial HD cathode ray TVs use upscale converters, which add 0.5 frames of lag. But they don’t make these things anymore, which makes it hard to get your hands on them.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Asuha said.

As usual, when the subject was video games, Sera could speak with great fluency. Asuha could also detect clear passion behind her friend’s usual monotone calm.

As befitting the master gamer that Sera was, each game concluded with a no-miss, flawless victory. Asuha couldn’t quite tell if her friend was enjoying it or treating it like work, but either way, the intensity on the young gamer’s face suggested that she really shouldn’t interfere.

Even so...

“Want to try it, Tsuwabuki?” Sera asked.

“Huh? Me?” Asuha asked.

“Yeah.”

Asuha hesitated as Sera offered her the controller. She had never held one like it before, but it had only a D-pad and four buttons, so it seemed easy enough to figure out. She chose a random girl character from the select screen, and started a battle against a computer opponent.

“Hrgh! Hah! Hwooo...” Asuha whipped the controller around and tilted dynamically side to side. Just pressing the buttons would be enough, she knew, but she was the kind of player who couldn’t help but react with her whole body. “Ah... ah, huh?! Crud! Hey, how do you do that? Hey, hey... ah! Ah... ahhh, no, stop! Hey, you—ah! Ahh, ahh, ahhh!”

But at the end of the day, she was still just a newbie, and she’d reached the natural end for a middle schooler who didn’t even know the input for a Hadoken.

“Oh, well, I lost... Kiryu, why is your face red?” Asuha asked.

“No reason...” Sera whispered, hurriedly looking through a plastic case all the while. “Let’s try some co-op. Like Final Fight 2...”

“Yeah, I don’t know that one, but it sounds good,” Asuha said.

Sera put a different game cartridge in the slot and turned it on. A screen similar to the one from the fighting game appeared. Asuha picked the female character, as usual, while Sera picked a stern-looking old man with a beard.

The controls for this one didn’t seem as complicated as the ones from the fighting game earlier. Even with Asuha’s crude play style, it was easy for them to have fun and make progress. She also enjoyed the way that Sera’s old man character sometimes spread his arms wide and spun around.

“Oh, by the way, Kiryu... I’m gonna be a model,” Asuha said.

“Huh? You don’t seem like the type.”

“What was that?” Asuha snapped.

“Ah, hey, stop it!” Sera cried. Asuha’s character had started punching Sera’s from behind. “A model for what? What are you doing?”

“I mean in the game,” said Asuha. “Iris is having a fashion competition.”

“Ohh...”

Asuha explained the broad particulars of the situation, which was simplified a bit by the fact that Sera, as King Kirihito, had seen part of the beach incident unfold the other day. Sera listened with a manner that suggested disinterest, belied by the asking of an occasional question.

Once Asuha finished her explanation, Sera responded with an “Oh, I see,” and then continued, “Matsunaga told me about that. He wanted me to be a judge.”

“Huh? What the heck?” Asuha burst out. “Are you friends with Mr. Matsunaga?”

“He tends to arrive in places before I do when I’m playing solo,” said Sera. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“W-Wow...” Asuha had had a few experiences with Matsunaga, and while she knew that he really wasn’t that bad a person, she still didn’t like him. What she didn’t recognize was that her dislike was the result of a self-righteousness particular to middle school girls. “What do you mean, a judge? Do you know anything about fashion, Kiryu?”

“Of course not,” said Sera. “It’s probably just for fun. And King Kirihito is famous, so...”

When talking about NaroFan in real life, Sera had a strange habit of referring to the avatar “Kirihito” as a completely discrete entity. Even the name “King Kirihito”—which her friend had originally dismissed as “lame”—was now standard parlance for Sera, which suggested even further detachment between the two figures in the young gamer’s mind.

The near complete change in personality wasn’t just Sera roleplaying, she didn’t think. King Kirihito seemed to be the embodiment of the ideal self that existed in Sera’s mind.

“But if you’re going to be the model, I might think about it...” said Sera.

“Oh, you want to come see?” Asuha asked.

“Hmm... I’m not sure. I guess I’m curious...”

They both kept their eyes on the screen as they talked.

“Well, I think I’ll probably go... maybe,” said Sera.

“I see!” Asuha cried. “But I bet it’s gonna be pretty suggestive! Like the swimsuit I wore before!”

“Why do you have to sound so happy about that?” Sera whispered, with a slightly troubled expression.

Asuha and Sera’s characters proceeded smoothly through the stage and finally arrived in the boss fight area. Around this time, their conversation quieted down so they could focus more on the gameplay.

A little while after, Asuha remembered something, and she spoke up. “Speaking of which, Kiryu.”

“Hmm?”

“Next week, I’m going to Itchy’s house in Tokyo to hang out.”

“Oh?” Sera asked.

“Want to come with?” Asuha asked. “Itchy would love it.”

The old man Sera was controlling in the game stopped. But just as Asuha was wondering if her friend had been shaken by the news, the avatar used its spin attack to clear out all the small enemies that had clustered around it, suggesting it was just part of Sera’s play style.

Asuha went to Ichiro’s house once or twice a year. Even if they were related, the thought of a girl in middle school going to stay at a twenty-something bachelor’s house was a somewhat questionable prospect. But perhaps because Ichiro was above such notions, her parents didn’t object. So this time, since they knew each other, she’d decided to invite Sera, too.

Sera remained quiet for a while, then, after defeating the stage boss, spoke up again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Master Ichiro, this is Special Investigator 4396.”

“Ah, yes...” That day, the Dragonet Ichiro had left town alone for the first time in a while to take a stroll through the field.

With Iris and Nem’s competition coming up, Ichiro had a few concerns still to rectify, chief among them the question of who was limiting the sale of Warp Feathers to hinder travel through the game. This strange act seemed to carry very little reward given the effort it took, and as a result, that seemed to make it clear that someone must be doing it for some other purpose. Thus, Ichiro had left town to investigate.

He had an idea of who it might be. After all, there were only a few people capable of accomplishing something like this, and he also had some idea of what they might be getting out of it.

While Ichiro was investigating, at the same time, Sakurako was also seeking out information in Starter Town at his request. To go from Glasgobara Merchant Town, where Iris Brand was located, to Starter Town or Manyfish Beach required one to cross two vast fields: the Volgund Volcanoes and the Vispianya Meadows. There were towns and villages along the way, but the maps in the VRMMO were of a realistic scale, for better or worse, and so it wasn’t easy to trek back and forth between them.

Sakurako had just made her second character, so he had asked her to confirm a few things for him in that area. Since new characters began the game in Starter Town, the timing was perfect.

“So, how are things over there for you... you?” Ichiro hadn’t yet asked Sakurako’s second character’s name, but he couldn’t call her “Sakurako-san,” either, so for once, he felt a bit stymied in his form of address.

“Hmm, there’re a surprising number of mid-level players here,” said Sakurako. “It seems like they came here to play on the beach when the Warp Feather buy-out started, so they just can’t get back to their usual home bases. Of course, the fact that they’re still here after three days suggests most of them are pretty laid-back about it...”

“I see,” Ichiro said.

Perhaps that stood to reason. Even Matsunaga’s blog was commenting on the standstill caused by the Warp Feathers. With most NPC shops sold out of Warp Feathers, many mid-level players had set their sights on the beginners’ shops in Starter Town. These shops were usable only by low-level players, but they did sell a very small number of Warp Feathers.

Some of the mid-level players left behind at Manyfish Beach would visit Starter Town to try to bargain with the beginner players that could still use these shops, asking them to buy them Warp Feathers in exchange for a round of power leveling, or items that were hard to acquire at low levels. After all, Warp Feathers were of little use to beginner players who hadn’t been to many places yet, so it was a good deal on both ends.

Of course, bad ideas well up quickly, too, so even on the first day, you had players buying up large numbers of Warp Feathers from beginners at a low price, then scalping them.

“I’ve been asked about that, too,” Sakurako said. “Matsunaga put warnings on the wiki, but I bet lots of beginner players are still selling them.”

“Neither monopolization nor scalping is against the terms of use, after all,” said Ichiro. “It’s all up to how players think, and selling your Warp Feathers to an experienced player in exchange for early game funds is an understandable strategy.”

“Well... well, yes, I suppose.” On the other side of the phone, the self-named Special Investigator #4396 seemed to be mulling that over.

“So, what will you do? Have you been leveling up already?” Ichiro asked.

“No, I’ve finished my investigation, and I more or less have the pulse of things here, so I’ll re-log in as Kirschwasser. Once Warp Feathers are back on the market again, I hope you’ll take some time to help me level up.”

“Hmm, understood,” said Ichiro. “I’ll be in Delve.”

Special Investigator #4396 then hung up.

Unlike Kirschwasser, Sakurako’s new voice didn’t seem to be sampled from an actor or voice actor. It sounded relatively close to her own. The way she talked was unfiltered Sakurako, too, so either her second character was not meant to be for roleplaying, or she just hadn’t decided on her personality yet.

Ichiro had left Glasgobara, crossed the Sandsea, and had arrived in Martial City Delve. The town had once been a hive of undead monsters in a field known as the Necrolands, but with the Devil Zombie grand boss defeated, it had been “settled.” It was now a city map. It still had lots of underground dungeons, and it was the closest town to the frontier fields, so most of the Achiever guilds had moved their home bases there.

Ichiro waited a while, and soon, a cheery melody sounded out, indicating that Kirschwasser had logged in.

“That was fast,” he said.

“Ah, I just arrived in Delve yesterday myself,” said Kirschwasser. “I was looking for Warp Feathers.”

She had changed her speech patterns quickly, too.

“I suppose you couldn’t find any?” Ichiro asked.

“Yes. It’s to the point where I couldn’t even find any scalpers,” said Kirschwasser. “The top guilds spare no expense, after all.”

“That stands to reason.” Ichiro didn’t necessarily need new Warp Feathers, either, but if it became necessary, he wouldn’t hesitate to spend what he needed to. He was flush with money, both in the game and in real life.

Ichiro and Kirschwasser walked down Delve’s main street. It was lined with guild houses of the top Achievers, but the atmosphere was different from the lively businesses of Glasgobara. It wasn’t exactly strained, but there was an odd tension in the air.

“Hmm, isn’t this nice,” Kirschwasser commented.

“Really?” Ichiro asked.

“Yes. Everyone here is a core gamer, like me.”

After walking for a little while, they came to a large guild house. The flags hanging from it were marked with an emblem of a rising sun. This building was home to the game’s largest Achiever guild, the Red Sunset Knights.

As Ichiro and Kirschwasser stepped closer, the heavily armored soldiers standing on either side of the door crossed their extremely long spears (modeled after the sarissas used by the Macedonian phalanx), blocking their way.

“This is the Knights’ guild house,” said one. “Outsiders aren’t permitted to enter.”

“Our guild leader has insisted that no one should enter.”

The two seemed to have an elaborate roleplay going on.

Ichiro decided to ask and see. “Is that actually true?”

“Please, try to make a little more trouble,” the man on the right whispered.

Ichiro and Kirschwasser looked at each other and shrugged. “What shall we do, Sir Kirschwasser? I’ve never made trouble before.”

“Master Ichiro, are you being serious?” the Knight sighed.

“There’ll be no talking your way around this. I cannot let you proceed.” It seemed the guards were going to keep the scenario moving, regardless of the responses they got. It was a good thing, really. Perhaps they didn’t want to force a role on someone else.

Kirschwasser, beside him, let out a cough. “Our business is with your leader, Lord Stroganoff. I see there’s no convincing you, but if I may speak to someone higher—”

“No member of the Knights’ leadership will meet with the likes of you. Away with you at once!” The two of them seemed really into it.

It was just as Ichiro was watching their amusing roleplay that a beautiful woman clad in white porcelain full plate mail stepped out, with almost practiced timing (indeed, it likely was practiced).

“What is all the noise out here?” she asked, despite the fact that they weren’t actually making a lot of noise.

“V-Vice Captain Tiramisu!”

“Nothing, these ruffians were just...”

Saint Tiramisu was a Paladin, and the lone female member of the Red Sunset Knights’ commander team. With her simply designed Celestial Armor, Sword, and Shield, and her appearance otherwise evoking the archetypal lady knight, she held considerable popularity among a quiet set of male players.

Tiramisu looked at Ichiro and Kirschwasser, seeming to recognize them for the first time. “Mr. Tsuwabuki. What are you doing here?”

“I wished to ask something, though it’s nothing of serious import,” said Ichiro.

“I see. Well, come in, then,” Tiramisu said easily.

The guards acted flustered. “Captain Tiramisu! Why are you letting these ruffians in?!”

“Yes! This obvious rabble couldn’t possibly...”

“Be quiet,” Saint Tiramisu snapped, scaring them both into silence. “These two are friends of the Knights’ commander. If you don’t know that... um... not knowing that... despite being a guard...”

“How can someone entrusted with guarding...” the guard prompted.

“Ah, right. How can someone entrusted with guarding this house not know that? Your ignorance shames you!”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you!!”

And so the strange farce ended. The two guards bowed deeply to Tiramisu. She smiled back with mild embarrassment, then turned again to Ichiro and Kirschwasser.

“I’m sorry about that. Um, you want to see the boss?”

“That’s right,” said Ichiro. “If we could talk to Stroganoff, that would be best, I think.”

Led by Tiramisu, the two entered the Knights’ guild house.

Unlike Iris Brand or the Akihabara Forging Guild, the interior of this house was richly decorated. Drop items acquired from previous great achievements hung on the walls as trophies, giving the hallway the air of a museum. The stained glass windows and red carpet lining the floor only deepened that impression.

“Do you do that little skit every time?” Ichiro asked.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “The guards like it...”

“I see,” he answered. “Everyone has their own way of enjoying the game, don’t they?”

This particular one seemed to enter the realm of fetish, but he avoided commenting on that. Ichiro couldn’t really understand it, but to dismiss things he couldn’t understand was nonsense. If those guards were happy, that was good enough for him.

Guided by Tiramisu, Ichiro and Kirschwasser arrived in the deepest room in the guild house. Tiramisu knocked softly, then opened the door. Inside, Stroganoff, leader of the Red Sunset Knights, was poring over a map spread out across his desk.

“Boss, visitors!” she announced.

“Ah, Tiramisu. Good to see...” Stroganoff said as he raised his head.

“Hey, it’s me,” said Ichiro.

“T-Tsuwabuki?!” Stroganoff was a red-haired brute who stood over two meters tall. He had been given the appellation “the Monstrous.” Yet the giant man froze the instant he saw Ichiro. This was not roleplay, Ichiro thought, but his honest feelings. “What do you want?! There’s no grand boss here!”

“Nonsense,” Ichiro said. Apparently, his stealing of their grand boss kill had been somewhat traumatic for the guild leader.

Tiramisu stood next to Stroganoff and patted his shoulder. “Boss, boss...”

“Ugh, s-sorry. I lost my head...”

Ichiro was reminded of the man’s talk with Matsunaga during the council meeting. Despite his avatar’s appearance, he appeared to be quite a timid person.

“Still, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Stroganoff said. “I need to log out for work soon, but what’s your business?”

“Ah, of course. To get right to the point...” Ichiro assumed a pensive expression, then asked: “I was wondering if it might be Matsunaga’s group who are buying up the Warp Feathers.”

“Yeah, I haven’t asked him directly, but I think you might be right.” Stroganoff’s answer came easily enough. “Just to let you know, we’re not involved. We have stocks of Warp Feathers, too, but they’re about the only ones who could do this. I’ve caught sight of Matsunaga’s guildmates in the shops of late, too, though I don’t know what their grand scheme might be.”

“I see,” Ichiro said, nodding.

Stroganoff’s Red Sunset Knights and Matsunaga’s Dual Serpents often cooperated—more precisely, the two guilds used each other—but it seemed that Stroganoff and Matsunaga, on a personal level, got along rather well.

It was Matsunaga who had pushed the rumors of King Kirihito as the ultimate solo player, but it was also he who had pushed the Red Sunset Knights as the game’s greatest guild as they had expanded. Thanks to him, articles about the Knights were second only to those about King and those about Ichiro.

There were no lengths Matsunaga wouldn’t go to to get a good story. And it probably wasn’t just him—while at a glance, the Dual Serpents appeared to be a one-man guild, it had a large membership that acted perfectly in sync. They were like-minded individuals who had come together in the name of a united purpose.

Ever since the Nem incident at the beach the other day, Matsunaga had seemed to be highly involved in how things were playing out. He had behaved this way during the King Kirihito incident, too, facilitating things behind the scenes to make the contents of his articles more dramatic.

That, alone, was not a problem. However...

“Tsuwabuki, are you lacking Warp Feathers?” Stroganoff offered, peering into Ichiro’s face. “Well, you could ask Matsunaga, too, but I’ll lend you some from our store, if you like.”

“No, that’s not the case,” said Ichiro. “Thank you.”

“I see. That’s fine, then.” Stroganoff did seem to be a very good person, not the sort to be complicit in Matsunaga’s schemes. “By the way, I heard you were playing shogi on the beach recently, Sir Kirschwasser. I’d like to have a game with you some time.”

“As a matter of fact, Iris has been beating me lately.” Kirschwasser spoke the shocking truth very lightly, and even Ichiro was surprised.

Stroganoff’s brow wrinkled, as well. “That girl? I wouldn’t expect it, to be honest.”

“Apparently her late grandfather taught her how to play,” said Kirschwasser.

“She’s the type to show talent in the areas you’d least expect.” Of course, the tragedy was that she showed no promise in the area she worked hardest in.

“Oh, I heard that Iris was going to be having a fashion competition against Nem,” Tiramisu, who had been quiet up until now, interjected.

Kirschwasser nodded. “Yes. Are you interested?”

“Matsunaga spoke to me about it,” Tiramisu said. “He asked if I wanted to be a judge.”

“Judge?” Kirschwasser asked.

That was right. Sorceress had mentioned something about inviting judges. He had assumed that they would try to stack the deck there, but there was no sign that the Knights would be partial to Nem. It was likely just to drum up word of mouth, then.

But the fact that Matsunaga was rounding up judges suggested that he was certainly involved in the matter behind the scenes. The question was just to what degree he was taking Nem’s side.

Ichiro closed his eyes, thinking back to what Megumi Fuyo had said at the party the other day. “I must defeat Iris with my own power. I do not want anyone interfering, either.”

And then what Iris had said. “This is between me and her. You may not offer your help or your money, and I can’t ask for them.”

At least those two were in clear agreement. Without arranging anything beforehand, they had quietly come to the same conclusion. They were linked by an inviolable pact to preserve the purity of the competition. That was why Ichiro had said to Megumi that he was relieved to hear her words.

“What nonsense.” It was probably a predictable line, but Ichiro still had to say it.

Kirschwasser nodded as if he’d figured something out, too. Only Stroganoff was left confused.

“Did I miss something?” he asked.

“It’s nothing you need be concerned about,” said Ichiro. “If you wish to play shogi, you should come to Iris Brand. I’m sure you’d be welcome.”

“Heh,” said Stroganoff. “Tsuwabuki, let me warn you. In my youth, I was feared in the local shogi halls as Sergei of the Fourth File Rook.”

With that last, strange comment, Stroganoff the Monstrous logged out to go to work. It seemed he really was the owner of some kind of restaurant.

Kirschwasser whispered, “If his real name is Sergei, is he Russian, perhaps?”

“But ‘shogi halls’ suggests that he was raised in Japan,” Ichiro responded.

It was quite the yawn-inducing mystery.

“He’s apparently half-Russian, half-Japanese, and spent his life in Russia up until middle school, then moved to Yamanashi,” Tiramisu said.

“I-I see...” Kirschwasser murmured. Tiramisu’s answer solved the mystery, but since it didn’t matter to begin with, it wasn’t terribly satisfying.

At the least, their business was completed, so they said their goodbyes to Tiramisu and left the guild house.

Kirschwasser seemed to want to leave some sort of comment, perhaps feeling bad about barely interacting with Stroganoff the whole time. But unable to think of anything, he simply said to Ichiro, walking one step behind him, “I think we’ll have beef stroganoff tonight,”

And that was enough to put an end to it.

“Congratulations, Airi!” the campaign girl cried, holding out a brown envelope.

“Ohh!” Airi burst out.

After a seemingly interminable eight hours playing the mysterious mascot character, Airi was at last reaching the end of her hellish day. She wanted to get home and take a shower, to wash off every drop of sweat that clung to her body.

At least, that had been her primary thought, right up to the moment that she took that envelope in her hands. Then, in that moment, she was struck by the illusion (though it was definitely only an illusion) that the beads of sweat covering her body were really precious jewels.

After a day of hard work that had made her wish she were dead, Airi had earned a massive 15,000 yen. It was a tremendous amount of money for a high school girl to earn in a day.

She was tired, suffering, hot, nauseous, and stinky, but she had survived it all, and that small, crisp envelope was the proof.

Airi clutched it in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll treasure it all my life!”

“No, you have to spend it,” said the campaign girl.

That was right. It was money. She did have to spend it. This was her war chest, nothing more. She would use this money to complete her new fashion armor design, and meet Nem, a.k.a. Megumi Fuyo, in their duel. She had to use the 15,000 yen to make that happen.

But would it be enough?

That faint shadow of doubt remained, hanging over Airi’s heart.

Fifteen thousand yen was a lot of money. But Airi had converted countless hundreds of components into scrap when creating Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s armor. She had never actually asked how much Ichiro had ended up spending in the process.

Actually, it would be more correct to say that she had once asked him him, feeling it was her duty to know the amount. But the minute she’d seen the details, her pulse had skyrocketed, she’d been surrounded by physiological alarm messages, and the game had automatically logged her out. And as a result, she couldn’t remember what it had been.

She had this 15,000 yen, and the small amount of New Year’s money left in her savings account. She had to successfully create the armor using that money alone.

Airi steeled her resolve.

“Airi, you look like you’re about to march into battle,” the angelic campaign girl said with an expression of awe.

Airi was grateful to her, too. If she hadn’t been so sociable with her cleavage on display, Airi never would have realized how it caught men’s eyes.

“I do think you have talent for wearing mascot costumes, Airi...” the girl said.

“Thank you very much,” Airi said. “But I have other dreams.”

Airi Kakitsubata was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up.

There was a road of thorns she had to walk to make it to that dream. These were the first steps down that road. Soon, she was going to be marching into battle against the person she most admired.

In the back of her mind, Airi was formulating her design. It was a refreshing feeling to have a clear image in her mind of what she wanted to make. Airi knew this alone was not the formula for success, though. She had to put form to the image immediately.

“Well, I’ve gotta go!” Airi called.

Airi said goodbye to the angelic campaign girl, and to the old campaign manager who had barely said anything, then left the site of her first real part-time job behind.

She had total confidence in the image she was drawing up in her mind. She was starting to get excited. Of course, it was a known fact of life that the things you create in the heat of the moment often result in terrible work when you look back on it later... but Airi lacked the creative experience to realize this.

“Wow, you’re gonna wear Ai’s design, Felicia?” Yuri asked.

After returning from Sera Kiryu’s house, Asuha tried to get to work on the homework she had let pile up at her desk, but after ten minutes, she had given up and retreated into the world of NaroFan. She was currently leveling up with her party and chatting, and Yuri had shown interest in the topic of Iris.

Her party currently consisted of Felicia, Yuri, Kirihito (Leader), and Edward. It was unusual to have a party of all physical classes, but the high-level Kirihito (Leader) and Edward were able to create openings so that Felicia and Yuri could have lots of fun. The two of them had seemed to have nothing to do in Glasgobara, so the girls had invited them out.

“I actually had lots to do...” Edward murmured, sulkily.

“Come on, Mr. Edward,” said Kirihito (Leader). “You don’t get many chances to play with real middle school- and college-aged girls.”

“That may be true, but I wouldn’t be as obvious as you about it,” Edward groused. The two, who had never met before, seemed to be getting along surprisingly well.

Yuri and Iris continued to talk, occasionally casting a glance over at the men. They still had quite a bit of time before the Living Shimeji respawned.

“When Ai first started playing, she didn’t talk about her hobby a lot,” said Yuri.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

Felicia found herself leaning forward with interest. Yuri’s own tone was a bit hesitant.

Felicia had heard the reason why Iris had first started playing NaroFan. She attended a school for design, but she hadn’t been able to take being compared to her more talented classmates, and it had made her want to escape into the game.

Felicia’s experience with her friend Sera had taught her that “escape” wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; the question was whether or not it would lead to growth.

At first, Iris hadn’t been willing to talk to her fellow guild members like Yuri about her circumstances, but Yuri had gradually begun to piece them together.

“Not having enough talent to do what you want to your satisfaction can be hard,” Yuri explained. “I know the feeling pretty well.”

“Did you go through that, too, Yuri?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Yuri agreed fairly readily. “Being judged on your talent can be a cruel thing. You can work hard to compensate for a lack of it, but it takes a lot of energy.”

Her words seemed to have the weight of experience behind them, so Felicia didn’t pry any further. Yuri probably had her own worries and things she was struggling with. Felicia had heard that she did karate, and that she had gone to the national tournament in high school; the fact that she was tight-lipped about the experience beyond that spoke volumes in and of itself.

“I wonder if I’ll face a setback, too, someday,” Felicia murmured.

“That’s a good question. It’s sort of a rite of passage, in a way,” Edward whispered, apparently overhearing their conversation.

“Have you ever faced a setback, Mr. Edward?” Felicia asked.

“I’ve had quite a few failures in my time,” Edward admitted smoothly as he looked up.

Beside him, Kirihito (Leader) nodded. “But even if you fail, you just have to stand up again. In an arcade, a continue costs 100 yen, but recovering from a setback in real life costs you nothing. It’s quite a bargain by comparison.”

“Mr. Leader, you sound like Kiryuhito,” said Felicia.

“I do?! That makes me so happy!!”

It reminded Felicia that King Kirihito could also qualify as a person who had successfully bounced back from a setback. The face of her classmate, whom she had seen earlier that day, rose up in her mind.

“That respawn is taking a while, huh?” Edward whispered as Kirihito (Leader) began dancing excitedly.

“You want to go home?” Yuri asked.

“It’s up to you two,” Edward responded. “We’re just along for the ride.”

Yuri turned her eyes to Felicia, who fell deep into thought.

“Hmm, I think I’d like to go,” Felicia said at last. “What about you, Leader?”

Kirihito (Leader) abruptly stopped dancing. “It would be nice to pass over the meadow and go to the beach, but... without any Warp Feathers...”

It turned out that his allies, The Kirihitters, were currently in the area near the beach and Starter Town. They were keeping in frequent contact, and he would have liked to join them, but it was a long way to walk all alone. There was something terribly lonely about the sight of Kirihito (Leader) without his usual gang.

“Well, maybe I’ll walk you back to Glasgobara, then,” he eventually decided, and the four of them headed off to the same place together.

As they prepared to set out, Felicia added in a whisper, “I’ve gotta get my own base of operations, rather than just leeching off of Iris Brand all day!”

“Planning to strike out on your own?” Yuri asked.

“I wouldn’t mind joining someone else’s guild, but yeah, more or less.” Lately, Felicia had finally begun to understand the fun of video games, and she was quite a competent NaroFan player herself. She couldn’t sit around drinking Kirschwasser’s tea in a guild made for Iris forever.

Making cheerful conversation, the group began to descend the mountain.

“Oh, is this it?” Kirschwasser asked, impressed, as he flipped through the design sheets Iris had prepared. “It’s very... eye-catching, very clever. You’ve done an excellent job...”

“I feel like I’ve reached a new level as a creator, myself...” Iris said. But it had been worth it.

Iris had incorporated the hint she’d gotten from the angelic campaign girl, and had used the various images burned into her eyes in Akihabara to create the most pandering design she could muster. She’d cast off her shame and her ridiculous pride, and she’d come up with a design tailored to the public from square one. She’d never felt that way before. There was something utterly refreshing about it.

“Of course, it’s not finished yet,” she added. “I’ve got a lot of fine-tuning to do...”

“Are you using maids as the base?” asked Kirschwasser.

“Yes. But maybe I should mix something else in with ‘maid’... I want it to be something that would make men giddy when they saw Felicia in it...”

“Your mind seems to have ended up quite deeply in the gutter,” Kirschwasser said, though not especially judgmentally.

Ichiro wasn’t here right now. Iris doubted he would interfere at this stage of the game, and she doubted she would lose her morale at this point either way, but his absence had allowed her to devote herself to her design process for much longer than usual.

“That’s right. It was gimmick armor, wasn’t it?” Kirschwasser asked. “What kind of gimmick will you use?”

“Um, I was thinking... transforming armor. I’m using, what was it called... Insect Armor as the base.”

“Ah, so that heroic armor will become this maid, eh?” Kirschwasser asked with interest.

Insect Armor had been one of the recipes that Edward had given her. Its components were the bug-type monsters that lived deep in the Lancastio Spiritwood Sea, and it had the “Metamorphose” gimmick built into it. It typically had a cocoon or larva motif, which could then be changed into an “adult” form if the person wearing it struck certain poses. There was apparently a certain subset of male players who really liked this gimmick.

“Which means there’s a second form, is there?” Kirschwasser added.

“There is. That’s this.” Iris showed him another design sheet. This one was much closer to being finalized.

Kirschwasser’s expression stiffened visibly. “Y-You’re going to put this... on Lady Felicia?!”

Iris nodded. “I was wondering if she might have a problem with it...”

“I could not speak for her, but...”

The minute Iris had thought up the design, it had felt like a “eureka!” moment, and that feeling hadn’t wavered. But the thought of putting it on Felicia did make her hesitate. What if she hated it? Well, if Felicia dropped out, she would deal with it; she’d just wear it herself.

Iris couldn’t feign innocence if she wanted to win. She couldn’t let that eight hours she’d spent holding back her vomit be for nothing. Iris would become a demon.

“The design may not be to Master Ichiro’s taste, either,” added Kirschwasser.

“I don’t care about him.”

“True. He’s not going to wear it, so perhaps he doesn’t matter. And it was he who said he was looking forward to a design that was more in your style.”

“I wonder what my style is...” Iris murmured. Could a newbie designer like her even have her own style?

Iris was just mulling that over when she heard the guild house door open.

“Iris, Mr. Kirsch, we’re coming in!” Felicia called out energetically. But she wasn’t alone.

“I’m coming in.”

“Coming in.”

“Hey, coming in!”

There was, in fact, quite a crowd marching in through the door.

“Ah, Yuri! Hey!” Iris cried, waving.

Yuri waved back. “Hey, Ai.”

Iris had heard Yuri had been helping Felicia level up, but she hadn’t seen much of her old friend lately.

“Allow me to make tea,” Kirschwasser said, as usual, without missing a beat. He was already preparing several cups with the tea set he had brought out at some point.

“Ai, is that the design you’re working on right now?” Yuri asked, pointing to the design sheets.

“Yeah,” Iris nodded.

Felicia jumped up at the mention, too. “Ah, it’s done!”

“It’s not finalized yet,” said Iris. “Almost there, though. Felicia, which do you prefer: knight, shinobi, or nun?”

“Hmmm... shinobi!” Felicia cried.

Then the additional motif would be shinobi. Iris wrote down a note.

Kirschwasser whispered to himself with a frown, “Maid-shinobi, eh?”

“Iris, may I see?” Edward asked. (Surely he wasn’t simply drawn to the phrase “maid-shinobi.”)

“Sure,” Iris said. “You want to see it, too, Felicia?”

“Hmm, I think I’ll wait until it’s finished!” Felicia said with a beaming smile.

Iris felt a sting run through her heart. Would she really be putting a good girl like Felicia in an outfit like that? She felt her will to fight nearly crumble from an unexpected direction, but she shook her head internally.

She had made her decision: if Felicia refused, she would wear it herself. Iris hardened her heart.

In addition to Edward, Yuri and Kirihito (Leader) had also expressed interest, so she handed them the image file, too. The responses to the first sheet were all things like “Cute!” and “Clever!” but all eyes opened wider when they saw the post-gimmick design.

“Miss Iris, this is...”

“Impressive!”

“Wow, Ai, are you serious?”

The one who had called it impressive was Kirihito (Leader). She couldn’t pinpoint Edward’s reaction thanks to his mechanical body, but the sole woman, Yuri, was clearly repulsed.

Well, they were more or less the reactions she’d expected. Iris folded her arms and nodded. “It’s serious. I’m totally serious.”

“I see. Good luck,” Edward said, firmly. Surprisingly, he seemed to approve—proof that he was a man, after all.

Having the approval of two men gave Iris greater confidence. She owed a great debt to the inspiration provided to her by the angelic campaign girl.

Felicia just kept grinning and whispering to herself, “I wonder what it’s like! I can’t wait to see!” But Iris couldn’t let that bother her. She needed to harden her heart. She’d said that she would, so she would.

It was then that Kirschwasser poured the tea. Once he had a cup for each member of the group, the silver-haired elder Knight spoke up. “By the way, if you’ll forgive the slight change of subject, Lord Matsunaga’s blog has written about the recent incident, as well.”

“Mr. Matsunaga’s?” Felicia’s expression turned suspicious as the man’s name came up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Edward lifted his teacup and opened the Miraive Gear’s proprietary browser. The others peered over his shoulder. It seemed Edward had bookmarked the vsoku@VRMMO aggregate blog that Matsunaga ran.

“‘Iris Brand Challenges MiZUNO’...” Iris murmured. “So, he’s already sniffed it out, huh?”

“Either that or he’s pulling the strings,” Kirschwasser said. “I’m not sure which. As ever, he’s a master of spin.”

As the article described it, Iris Brand had picked a fight with MiZUNO in order to test her mettle against the pro designer.

Of course, everyone knew that the difference in talents between them was heaven and earth. Whatever one thought about Fuyo herself, from an objective point of view, it was like a high school baseball player picking a fight with a major leaguer. It was a sign of Matsunaga’s skill that he could twist things such that most of the reactions were to the effect of, “It was nice of MiZUNO to humor them.”

“Ugh... I really do hate that guy,” Felicia whispered. “And he’s probably on Nem’s side this time.”

“Oh?” Kirschwasser narrowed his eyes at her words. “I wonder why you think that.”

“Well... it’s a secret, I guess. I’m not sure if I can talk about it.”

“Hm.”

Judging from their attitudes, Kirschwasser and Felicia were both conjecturing the same thing: Matsunaga was backing Nem, a.k.a. Megumi Fuyo. It was hard to imagine, but it wasn’t impossible. The casting of Amesho as Nem’s model—which Iris didn’t feel was something Fuyo would do—made much more sense if he was helping her.

But it wasn’t just Matsunaga on Nem’s side. She also had the mercenaries Taker and Sorceress. They seemed relatively servile to Nem, but that didn’t necessarily mean they’d only act in accordance with what she wanted.

“Well, even with Matsunaga on her side, the result will be the same,” Iris decided to say. “This is between Nem and me. I told the young heir not to interfere, and I’d say the same to anyone else. I won’t let anyone stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

Even if their talent was the difference between Betelgeuse and a turtle, a competition was a competition. Who said that a turtle could be no better than a heavenly body? Perhaps, somewhere in this enormous universe, there was a turtle that could compete with a red giant star. Such was the baseless confidence that Iris took refuge in.

“Iris...” Felicia whispered. “Iris, you’re so cool.”

“A-Am I?” The reaction was unexpected, and it made Iris blush a bit.

“Yeah,” Felicia said. “I’ll cheer you on for your victory with everything I have. Though I doubt there’s much I can do.”

“Th-Thanks...” Just as Iris was feeling a bit emotional at Felicia’s surprise comment, Yuri also spoke up beside her.

“It’s not just Felicia. I’m on your side, too, Ai.”

“I’ve already expressed the faith I have in you,” said Edward.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’m still rooting for you,” Kirihito (Leader) chimed in.

Iris steeled her nerve. It was two days until the competition. She would finish her design and create the armor. That was all she had to focus on. Then, on the day of the competition, she would make something that would shock the young heir.

She would win.

Iris’s severe biorhythms were currently on the upswing to their highest peak.