6 - Noble Son, Reach the Truth

The chase scene was entering its second half. Iris and the others had plunged into the winding mountain roads of the Doom Range. No matter how bad the road, the horses’ running performance didn’t decline at all. Horses in this game were an excellent way of moving around, but the long period of continuous running and the continuous attacks of the pursuing Duplichiro were shaving their endurance down to the limits.

Yuri was also looking to be at the end of her rope. They had run out of potions and fatigue restorers a little while ago, yet while maintaining her standing balance on horseback, she still continued deflecting Duplichiro’s fireballs. Duplichiro himself showed no signs of tiring out. This was surely against the rules.

The situation was looking bad for them. Iris was starting to feel a creeping unease inside her. The mountain roads had more ups and downs and obstacles than the streets of Delve or the Sandsea they had crossed earlier, which meant that it was more suitable terrain for the flying Duplichiro. It was questionable whether they’d be able to reach the ravine or not. She regretted that she couldn’t contribute anything physical to the fight.

Iris’s role had been to draw Duplichiro’s aggro. She could say with total sincerity that she had fulfilled that role. Her aggressive vocabulary, honed to perfection through her high school (or more precisely, trade school) girl trash talk, had combined beautifully with her natural-born talent to create a perfect weapon for psychological attack. To be honest, she wasn’t happy about it, but it had caused Duplichiro’s rage to pierce not just the roof, but the stratosphere. Maybe he wasn’t good at expressing the emotion of anger. His expression looked calm, but it would be obvious to anyone that he was in the grips of uncontrollable fury.

“Yuri!” Nem called.

“I-I’m okay... Nem...”

The system was set up so that excessive exhaustion would actually put a small burden on a player’s state of mind. It wasn’t enough to deeply influence their stamina, just enough to add spice. But right now, Yuri was clearly having trouble standing.

Shaking in anger, Duplichiro slowly closed the distance over the slope. He unleashed his umpteenth Spiral Blaze. Yuri calmly traced its path with her eyes and deflected it with a chop. Just then...

“Ah.”

Duplichiro’s movement accelerated. He was gliding. The distance between them closed in an instant to a single meter’s length. He had entered melee range. Yuri was still in the cooldown time for Weapon Guard, and her response didn’t come in time.

At last, Duplichiro’s punch dealt a fatal blow to Custard. The system shouldn’t have had mechanics for a horse to trip, but perhaps in an exception, its leg got caught, throwing its two riders onto the mountain road. The horse’s body toppled onto the gravel road and then lay there perfectly still.

Iris let out a shriek as she rolled down the slope. Tiramisu used her “Soft Falling” Skill to right herself in an instant.

“Custard!” Tiramisu called her beloved steed’s name, but as an item that had reached zero durability, it showed no response. But she set aside her emotional pain (what of it there was), and turned to face Duplichiro. He spread his wings and slowly descended, his expression gradually returning to its usual grin.

“Tiramisu! Ai!” Yuri called.

The horses on which Yuri and Nem were riding stopped suddenly, and the both of them were thrown off. Nem hit the gravel road face-first, but they had no time to worry about her.

Despite her exhaustion, Yuri struck a fighting stance, while Tiramisu drew her Celestial Sword. They were absolutely ready to fight. But there was a slight trace of nervousness on Tiramisu’s face, and as Duplichiro slowly started moving closer, she inched back, maintaining the distance.

“A wise judgment.” Duplichiro nodded. “You can’t beat me. This has already been proven. It would be nonsense on both sides for us to repeat the same result.”

Iris remembered the fight between Duplichiro and Tiramisu from the day before. King’s interference had pushed him back then, but prior to that, it had been a one-sided battle for which the term “loss” did not seem fully adequate. To put it plainly, Tiramisu was afraid. The fear of losing again the way she had yesterday was probably rearing its head.

Iris could sympathize. Though she had worked out her feelings about it, she had been through the same thing herself. She hadn’t actually been hit that time, and it had taken place in a space where she couldn’t be hit, but the fear that came from being on the receiving end of unfiltered malice and violence was a hard thing to brush off for a modern-day person. It was a reminder of the game’s separation from reality in the worst possible way.

Nevertheless, the gallant side of “Saint” Tiramisu allowed her to put one foot forward, after a struggle. Yuri probably couldn’t really see her struggle, yet maintaining her stance, she spoke:

“Tiramisu, take Ai... and go...”

Iris could tell she was holding back from almost accidentally revealing their destination. Yuri was saying she would hold Duplichiro off.

“I cannot do that. I should...” Tiramisu refused to back down. She was one of the Knights’ top aces and the game’s greatest tank. She couldn’t simply run off and leave the fight to a character who was not only of lower level, but was also terribly exhausted. No matter how good a fight Yuri might give Duplichiro, the result would be the same.

There was no need to drive herself that far for a mere game, Iris thought. But she couldn’t just say that. Yuri was trying to protect her friend.

Duplichiro remained where he was, grinning, wreathed in the easy confidence of the powerful. He even seemed to be enjoying their internal conflict. But that wasn’t long to last, either. He clenched his fists and proceeded forward.

Yuri remained in her stance, while Tiramisu kept her sword held up. It was then that the black wind blew past.

A chain of seven attacks assaulted Duplichiro, one after another. Duplichiro met each attack with his fists as if he could see them coming. Not one strike from the flurry of blades managed to make contact with Duplichiro. A dust cloud kicked up, and before them, a black coat flapped in the breeze.

“Is that...” Iris breathed.

“King Kirihito? No...”

There were seven of them.

Seven men, all identical. The same weapon. The same stance. Prizing showiness over all, their techniques were refined in a way that seemed somehow overdone. Their backs were to the group, so it was impossible to see their expressions, but it was easy to guess that they were looking very satisfied with themselves.

It was The Kirihitters.

“Go on ahead, everyone!” Kirihito (Leader) shouted.

“Don’t forget that mobs spawn on this field, too!”

“The fewer people you have, the more dangerous it will be!”

“Now, hurry!”

“If each of us holds out one second, then we’ll buy you seven seconds!”

That’s too short! At least try for two seconds apiece! Iris mentally screamed, barely managing to keep the complaint from finding voice.

Tiramisu and Yuri nodded to each other, and Nem took Iris’s hand. They raced down the mountain road together. When they were on foot, there were shortcuts and hiding places not available to them on horseback. While the men were holding out, the women managed to slip down a side path.

“Th-Thanks!” Iris cried out with the most feeling she could muster, while the group of men in black coats each held up a hand, their backs still turned. Now all that was left to do was run without looking back. Nem seemed to be wearing high heels, but in terms of data, they were standard boots, and thus didn’t provide any particular hindrance to running down the mountain road.

A perfect chorus of voices spoke up from behind them. “We are The Kirihitters! We raise our swords for justice! We swing our blades for frie—blaaaargh!”

“They’re too weak!” Yuri screamed.

“No! It’s Duplichiro that’s too strong!” Tiramisu cried as loud as she could, preserving the Kirihitters’ dignity.

As the four of them ran as fast as they could down the mountain road, an unsettling sound of beating wings reached their ears. It was Duplichiro. But they didn’t even have time to react to this realization before the Fireball he had unleashed had hit the rocks nearby.

He’d caught up already. The seven Kirihitters hadn’t even lasted seven seconds. With a powerful enemy in front of them, Iris’s expression became severe.

“We need to buy more time! No matter what it takes!”

Yuri began, “If I have to, Ai, I’ll act as a shield...”

But Iris pulled her back quickly. “No!”

Iris was the one to be protected. Tiramisu and Yuri’s job was to make sure she made it to the planning area safely. Iris’s job was to survive. In that light, maybe she was wrong to try to restrain her, yet Iris could do nothing else.

“I may have said ‘no matter what it takes,’ but I won’t watch a friend die in front of me!” Iris screamed.

“Does that mean the seven who just died aren’t your friends?”

“They’re all my friends!” she shouted. “I just forgot!” She wouldn’t know what label they preferred without asking them.

“I shall help you, too,” said Nem.

“Thanks, but I’m not sure what you can do...”

Nem stepped forward decisively.

Just then, Duplichiro, grinning down at them from the sky, focused magic in both hands. It was clear to all of them that he was preparing to release his ultimate fire magic, Spiral Blaze.

Nem’s account had a unique ID.

The devs had set all of her stats to an absurdly high level, and she had the “Immortal” status which meant she couldn’t be hurt in a fight, but she also couldn’t take any combat-like actions.

Still, Nem’s gaze was sincere, and she spoke with quiet passion:

“I have been thinking all this time. Iris, I cannot do a single thing to make Ichiro happy. But I will do anything to protect his good name.” And then, turning her gaze to Iris, she continued. “Iris, you are my friend.”

“Nem...”

What a sweet woman she was. Forgetting all the scorn she had heaped on her when she had first met, Iris now saw Nem as an almost saintly figure. Why did someone so good have to like the young heir? The world was full of contradictions.

Despite the emotion of the moment, Iris hadn’t forgotten that the light was focusing in Duplichiro’s palms. She could tell that Tiramisu and Yuri were getting antsy beside her.

“Fuyo, I really respect you,” she said. “Both as a designer and as a woman.”

“Really, Iris. You’re making me blush...”

“So, um, Nem...”

“Yes?”

As Iris said her next words, she put her thought into action without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah?”

Duplichiro unleashed a Spiral Blaze from his hands. Iris got around behind Nem and ducked. The torrent of flame swallowed the two up and scorched everything that lay beyond. But despite being engulfed by flames, the two avatars remained solid. It was dicey for a minute, but Nem’s silhouette had managed to shield the slender Iris.

It was just as she’d thought: “Immortal” status could nullify any elemental property. That meant that not even Spiral Blaze’s piercing property could penetrate Nem’s body. As long as she was standing behind Nem, she was invulnerable against any attack.

Nem let out a scream. “Ah, Iris! D-Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” It probably hadn’t hurt her at all, but the fear she felt was real, at least.

“Sorry, sorry! Nem, I’m an evil person!” The tears that were streaming down Iris’s cheeks were sincere.

Yuri watched the scene unfold from behind a rock, but hearing the word “evil” got her thoughts racing. It triggered words in the back of her mind from the games and manga she liked.

A man said, “If there’s evil in the world, it comes from men’s hearts.”

A man said, “Evil is crushing the weak to serve your own needs.”

Another man said, “The darkest evil of all comes from those who don’t realize their own evil.”

Iris fulfilled them all.

“Mr. Shaga! Mr. Shaga, please, wake up!” Edogawa cried.

“Mgh...”

Shaken by Edogawa, the lawyer Shunsaku Shaga eventually woke up. He was in the Thistle Corporation office. He was on the tall side, with shaggy hair that made him resemble a now-deceased hard-boiled actor, and had come to Thistle on the invitation of Ichiro Tsuwabuki. He was, as described, a skilled lawyer with a terrible personality.

“Oh, Edogawa. Morning already?” Shaga asked.

“Yes, morning already! How long were you planning to sleep?”

“That’s right, we’ve got a busy day today, eh? You think you’ll be able to take the system back?”

“Almost all of it. But not the most important part, the account information.” In other words, there was no way to freeze Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s account, which was currently in operation.

The time limit that Shunsaku Shaga had given them was a bit after noon today. At the latest, they had to issue their company apology press conference for allowing the hacking by then. If they couldn’t take the system back from the hacker before then, trust in Thistle would plummet, and might never be restored. They’d already contacted various media organizations, and they couldn’t put off the scheduled press conference now.

Shaga gnawed on a cigarette as he mumbled to himself. “Well, I have a friend at a newspaper company. Writes pretty extreme articles. Maybe I can grease the gears to get a positive article written for us. Though it won’t be easy...”

“Another friend of Mr. Tsuwabuki’s?” Edogawa asked.

“Yeah, an old friend. The three of us were peas in a pod. Used to run a detective company together. Remember that big artificial island, Megafloat, in Tokyo Bay? We were feared over there.”

It seemed hard to imagine, but not impossible. The rich man, the lawyer, and the reporter. For these three people who should never work together to collude as a detective agency suggested a very strange set of circumstances.

“You’ve contacted the payment proxy company?”

“They can shut down the NaroFan payment system a bit after noon, probably.”

“Great,” Shaga said. “Even if the culprit’s not after money, you can’t be too careful at times like these.”

Edogawa frowned as he heard those words.

“Hmm, is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just, yesterday, President Nono and I checked the server and the data transfer records again, and...”

There was something he was concerned about. It concerned the incident that had taken place about a month ago, when Ichiro Tsuwabuki had summoned an excessive number of microtransaction items which had put a huge burden on the data bus. He’d already told Shaga that during that time, a large amount of information had been sent to the outside world, hidden within the immense data transaction. The opinion of the group up until then had been that it must have been important passwords related to system management authority.

But that wasn’t the case.

When Azami had first learned the truth, she had been disbelieving, but investigated. As a result, she had found a history of one ingeniously disguised access after another. The dates all pointed to a new truth.

“So, who the hell leaked it?” Shaga asked suspiciously, and Edogawa responded.

“An artificial intelligence developed by Azami Nono. And likely the one behind this account hack.”

“She’s called Rosemary,” Ichiro said in Japanese so that all present could understand.

The final puzzle piece had been snapped into place by Sera’s speculation, “They wanted to create an Ichiro Tsuwabuki.” Ichiro had already been gathering proof as to the identity of the culprit, but only the motive had remained opaque until Sera’s words had brought it all together.

“Isn’t Rosemary a program?” Asuha asked in confusion.

“She is. She’s a learning artificial intelligence developed by Azami Nono. She amasses knowledge, asks questions, and attains new knowledge by working through those questions. When one actively works to increase one’s own knowledge, that knowledge becomes intelligence. Eventually they may mature enough to be on the level of us humans.”

“The Ten Sages, eh?” Charles agreed, also in Japanese. “The bots my lab’s developing were created by that MIT graduate, too. We built on the foundations of the Ten Sages that Azami Nono left behind.”

“Rosemary likely entered your lab’s server as a program planning to make contact with a bot that used the same architecture,” said Ichiro, “in order to duplicate me, the strongest player in the game.”

Sera’s eyebrow twitched at those words, but Ichiro continued regardless.

Rosemary, who had been able to amass knowledge of the players in the game as one of the Ten Sages, had first become interested in Ichiro Tsuwabuki after the Iris Brand incident. Then, with the events of the Grand Quest, she had decided she wanted to “create” an Ichiro, and had merged her own data with the immense data bus generated by his microtransactions to copy herself onto an unused server in this maid robot laboratory.

Naturally, the data Rosemary was composed of was immense. It had taken multiple uploads to copy herself, but at last, she had finished it.

She had already been concocting plans to send the bot being developed by this lab into the VRMMO, but at this time, Rosemary had begun raising her selected bot with the information she had about Ichiro Tsuwabuki. Yet her “knowledge” still could not fully comprehend the fundamentals behind Ichiro’s behavior, so she’d used the decoy Rosemary she had left behind in Thistle to try a conversation with him.

“And in the end, she stole your account, Itchy?” Asuha asked.

“Perhaps. Maybe she wanted to become the real thing, or maybe she just got sick of trying. But things didn’t go the way she wanted, so Rosemary stole my account so that she could get it to act more like me. And in the course of doing that, she ended up taking over the systems of Thistle itself. Or something like that.”

With Charles’s guidance, the group had already arrived at the server machine they expected Rosemary had retreated into. There were various other machines, big and small, lined up around it, all making an eerie running noise.

Ichiro questioned the server machine enshrined in front of him.

“Well, Rosemary. Do you like it?”

A few moment’s later, a woman’s voice came out of the speaker.

“Yes, Ichiro. It’s just as you said it was.”

Like the Mediterra Demon Sea, the Doom Range hadn’t been mapped out or explored much in depth yet. This was primarily because most players had known that the vast Delve Necrolands would be the site of the next Grand Quest, so most of them had been focusing on it instead. Now that the Necrolands had been conquered, the Explorers were gradually starting to expand into these other fields.

There had been one eccentric, however, who had used this place as his base of operations from the start.

The hero who was said to have never logged out once since the service began: the High Elf Philosopher Tomakomai. His reputation, race, class, and intellectual bearing all combined to add to the air of mystery around the character’s player.

Much of their plan had been formulated based on Tomakomai’s advice. He had been playing solo for so long here in the Doom Range that he knew it inside and out, including the ravine in which most of the players were currently gathered.

There were a small group of players standing in the ravine itself. These were the Red Sunset Knights—Stroganoff the Monstrous, “Baron” Gazpacho, “Demon” Gorgonzola, and “Shooting Star” Parmigiano-Reggiano—the damsel player Amesho (who had over 2,000 friends), the previously-mentioned Tomakomai, and the slightly sinister mercenaries Taker and Sorceress. Matsunaga wasn’t among them, for reasons of his own.

Lined up along the top of the ravine stood the elite squadrons intended to mount the initial attack on Duplichiro, most of whom had been recruited through Amesho’s connections. She’d called around one fifth of her friends—400 players—chosen more for the accuracy and range of their magic and missile weapons than for their attack power. They’d set up camp along the highest places along the ravine, where they stood waving fans with super-deformed pictures of Amesho and magical glow rods (sold in Glasgobara). Some of the more rabid fans had even created made-to-order happi coats.

“What is this, a concert?” Taker asked, voicing the gripe that most of them were thinking.

“Aw, nah,” Amesho said. “If I was gonna give a concert, I’d easily attract 5,000.”

It was hard to believe, given that that would represent almost half of the game’s active users, but Amesho was as smiling and sincere as always. Given that she sent regular messages to the developers asking them to raise the friend limit, it was easy to believe she had even more than 2,000 friends in waiting.

“They’re a bit later than expected. I hope Tiramisu is all right,” Stroganoff said, checking the time.

It was already after 1 P.M. According to the plan, Iris’s party should be here around now.

The chatter among the ranged squadron mounted on the cliffs suddenly grew more intense. Then someone shouted above the din, “They’re here!”

It was time for the big fight. The group all readied their weapons and looked in the direction indicated.

Dodging through Duplichiro’s attacks, Iris and the others came running. It looked like Tiramisu and Yuri were both safe, too. Nem was with them also, for some reason... but their doubts about her presence were immediately explained away when they saw how, each time Duplichiro attacked, she threw herself in front of the blow. It was true that she had “Immortal” status, but her nimble movements in casting herself into danger were hard to reconcile with the image of the president of a high-class fashion brand.

“Leader’s acting as a shield?” Sorceress muttered.

“Former leader,” Taker corrected her.

“But she does seem quite energized. It’s good to see.”

“I just mew that Nem and Iris would make good friends,” Amesho said, nodding to herself knowingly.

The women sprinted into the ravine with the last of their energy as Duplichiro’s barrage of magical attacks exploded on the ground around them. Just as it was seeming like the “Nem Barrier” couldn’t possibly block them all, Tomakomai threw his glasses aside. No one knew exactly what he was going to do, but it was easy to guess what else he was casting away:

His reason.

“Screeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Tomakomai let out a screech like a bird of prey, and with his flowing mane of hair disheveled, he launched himself at Duplichiro.

He lashed out with “Burst Penetration,” one of the ultimate techniques of the Grappler class, which completely ignored defense bonuses and modifiers to deal pure damage. The daring-yet-savage demeanor seemed about as far from his main class, Philosopher, as one could get... or was this was the final plateau to which his meditation had guided him?

The move landed, intertwining with “Smash Hit” to send Duplichiro’s body flying back like a rag doll. Iris’s mouth dropped open at the sight as a cat-eared Anthromorph landed lightly beside her.

“Great job me-out there!” Amesho said, smiling brightly.

A group of fighters with high HP, including Gazpacho and Stroganoff, broke in to serve as shields and secure a path out for them. Tomakomai picked up his glasses as he led the fleeing Yuri away, lending her his shoulder.

“For now, get to the center,” he said. They all nodded in agreement.

Iris and Nem ran for the place Tomakomai had indicated, a wide-open area at the center of the ravine. Tomakomai and Yuri followed. Tiramisu and Amesho were keeping Duplichiro at bay, while Stroganoff and Gazpacho held up the rear.

Of course, Duplichiro wasn’t just going to sit idly by. He immediately extracted himself from the ravine wall he was buried in and unleashed a spell, but the “Anti-Magic Field” being maintained from afar by Gorgonzola and Sorceress reduced the damage considerably. By the time the spell reached its target, Amesho, the ferocious inferno had dimmed to a candle’s light, which flickered out without even penetrating the high-quality armor she was wearing. (This too, reportedly, she had received from a friend).

Duplichiro then spread his wings, and in a single smooth motion, he dove towards the eight of them.

“Now!” Tomakomai shouted.

In that instant, Gorgonzola used “Cancel Enchant” to purge the barrier’s ongoing effect, and a rain of arrows and magic fell from the sky. As Duplichiro looked up at it, his expression was not shock. It was that same blank expression that suggested vague anger, and his momentary hesitation, stemming from some unidentifiable frame of mind, could have proven fatal.

Waves of ranged and magic attacks were all targeted at the lone figure of Duplichiro, yet not one of them dealt any damage. He swept aside the assailing arrows with his bare hands. His movements were precise, without a millimeter of excess. He had clearly grown since his fight with King.

Was he impatient? Irritated? Either way, Duplichiro spread his wings and took flight. His shocking analytical and decision-making abilities let him weave his hitbox precisely between the attacks streaming at him. He was going after the platforms along the ravine walls where groups of players were hiding.

“H-Hey!”

“He’s coming this way!”

Duplichiro descended, kicking up a cloud of dust on the narrow platform. Then the players watched as he slowly rose to his feet.

The players were afraid, shaken. Yet they had joined the battle knowing this would happen. Even as Duplichiro began approaching, seething with silent anger, their attacks did not relent. Duplichiro continued deflecting every attack, slapping back players, batting aside spells, and after taking them down to the brink of zero HP, throwing them into the ravine without a fragment of mercy.

“Waaagh!”

“Yeeee!”

“Amesho, marry meeee!”

Falling damage was applied as the avatars hit the ground, causing their bodies to shatter like glass. About one in ten died professing their undying love to Amesho, but the target of those affections herself did nothing but pray for their happiness in the afterlife.

“Amesho, you certainly are popular...” Nem whispered, glassy-eyed.

“I’ll never forget any of the people who died for me,” she responded, ever the perfect damsel player.

With the continual one-sided player-killing, it took only minutes for all the players on the platform to fall. As Duplichiro flew away, the ranged squadrons that had ceased attacking let out another concentrated rain upon him.

“But as long as he’s up there, we can’t attack.” Stroganoff gritted his teeth, clenching his fingers around his magical sword, Sour Cream.

Taker mimicked the gesture. They were specialized for close-range combat and couldn’t keep up with Duplichiro, who could move in three dimensions. Only Gorgonzola and Parmigiano could contribute to the long-range attacks.

“Th-This is going to work... right?” Iris asked nervously.

“No need to worry. He’s a player character like the rest of us,” Tomakomai said with the smile of a confident intellectual.

Minutes passed. Players fell. Professions of love to Amesho went ignored. Then at last, the time came.

“Graaah!” The final Elf Ranger on the platform released his arrow, and had it struck away. He had watched one player after another reduced to zero HP, but now it was his turn. They were all jealous.

“I really hope we can get evidence that Duplichiro’s Immortal status is gone,” Iris said, voicing the general opinion of the group.

Duplichiro, perhaps no longer needing to bother with Weapon Guard, clenched a fist as he walked towards the final man. Dressed in light armor as he was, even a light punch would be near-fatal to the man. Duplichiro grabbed him by the neck and held him up against the wall.

“Ah... ghh...” the Elf sputtered, but he was ready to resist to the end. He pulled the dagger from his belt and struck out. It happened so quickly that Duplichiro couldn’t guard in time. The number “1” popped up above Duplichiro’s head.

“I did it!” the man cried out in triumph, despite the hand around his throat.

Duplichiro’s anger swelled. “%$*!”

Letting out a string of characters that indicated censored profanity, Duplichiro threw the man into the ravine.

The Ranger continued laughing right up until the moment when the falling damage exhausted the last of his HP. “I won! Amesho, marry me!”

“Naw,” she responded. But the avatar had shattered before the response could reach him. Whether or not that was a good thing for him was left to the others to speculate.

The nameless Ranger’s lone damage point, slipping through Duplichiro’s Weapon Guard, had been a tremendous morale boost for the others. They knew now, for certain, that Duplichiro’s Immortal status had been lifted, which meant that as long as they continued dealing damage, eventually, they could win.

“Well done,” Duplichiro said, with superficial intellectualism. “Iris, was this your plan from the start? It appears that my rational attempt to correct your mistake has backfired.”

“Are you still trying to pretend you aren’t super mad?” she responded in exasperation. She remembered a moment later that she didn’t actually have to troll him anymore, but the group silently urged her on. Iris steeled herself.

“Nonsense. I am not mad at all. I am merely...”

“Merely what? What?” she said. “Say it. You’re a child, aren’t you? I mean, the young heir is, too, but what you’re doing now, where you’re agonizing over how to appear totally strong and cool? It’s basically the lamest thing ever.”

“Nonsense,” Duplichiro said. “I have a great deal of knowledge, as well as calm and precise judgment. Not even Ichiro Tsuwabuki is a match in that regard.”

“See? This is the stuff that makes you so lame,” Iris said scornfully.

Once she’d started speaking, there was no turning back. Maybe she really did have a talent for this. While feeling a measure of disgust with herself, she made a decision not to hold back at all.

“You just want to prove to everyone that you have ‘calm and precise judgment,’ but you couldn’t even do that right. You really can’t stand not being acknowledged, can you? I guess that’s an internet gamer mindset for you. You don’t want to be whoever you are in the real world, so you’re doing everything you can to act strong so that the people here will buff up your ego. And that’s enough to make you feel better about yourself? Are you stupid? You can use the young heir’s form to become stronger all you want, but you’ll never stop being who you are!”

The merciless blade of her words cut deep into Duplichiro’s heart, and even started to inflict some collateral damage on their side. A cold sweat formed on Stroganoff’s brow, while Gorgonzola clutched his heart and cringed. Taker and Sorceress averted their gazes awkwardly, and even Yuri’s eyes had gone cold. Tomakomai and Amesho didn’t seem to mind much, while Nem seemed utterly entranced by her dear best friend’s rant.

But most of all, the words had an effect on their own speaker, Iris. In other words, it was a double-edged sword.

After her setback in the real world, which wouldn’t acknowledge her talent as a designer, she had run away and sought escapism here in the game. The young heir had acknowledged her, and now her name was getting out there. But no matter how strong she acted here as a result, the truth remained the truth.

She had no talent or taste. She hadn’t moved any closer to her dream.

She had to keep moving forward, as King Kirihito had done, so that the game version of herself would no longer be a lie. This was another source of the venom in Iris’s words.

“Listen to me!” she snarled. “You wouldn’t be anything without that ‘calm and precise judgment.’ Your roleplay and performance are crap, and even though you play tough, it’s clear to everyone how you really feel. You say ‘nonsense’ in the stupidest places, you smile like that creep Matsunaga, and even though you looked so smug about cheating, when King had his way with you anyway, you almost pissed yourself! You’re nothing but a self-satisfied little child, and that is why we call you Duplichiro!”

“Graaaaaaaah!” Duplichiro let out a roar, and focused magic power in his right arm.

Nem moved protectively in front of Iris, while at the same time, Taker and Stroganoff rushed forward.

Duplichiro spread his wings to dodge the waves of attacks at his left and right flanks, while striking out with his powerful fire spell “Sword of Surt” at the ground below.

“And that is why we call you Duplichiro!”

Charles had just put the NaroFan connection that Rosemary was linked to up on the screen. It was in that exact instant that Iris’s cry resounded through the room.

Asuha clung to Ichiro in surprise, while Sera calmly endured.

Ichiro smiled in satisfaction. He always felt this way when he heard one of Iris’s angry rants.

“It is really amazing, though,” Sera said.

Asuha tilted her head. “You mean Iris?”

“Oh, um, she’s amazing, too. But this image...”

The sensory data of Ichiro Tsuwabuki, which was being controlled by the bot, was being converted into an image on the screen. This information, when outputted through a Miraive Gear in the standard way, typically had to pass through an image processor and be converted to special quantum information. To project such an image as a movie or picture would require a totally different process, and to be able to convert it to such a high-quality image would require lots of skill and machines with extremely high specs.

Sera rattled off all of this technically information smoothly, but Asuha was totally clueless.

Ah, but back to Rosemary.

“Rosemary. Is it true that Duplichiro is a VR gameplay-oriented artificial intelligence that you trained personally?” Ichiro purposefully avoided using the word “bot.”

“Yes,” the AI said. “But I control the fundamental algorithm for its actions.”

“Does that mean that about half of what Duplichiro is saying and doing reflects your personal feelings, Rosemary?” Ichiro asked.

Rosemary said nothing. She may have been feeling awkward.

It was true that Duplichiro’s words and actions were far from noble detachment. To the contrary, Iris’s provocations had caused him to completely lose his cool. In addition, he had been humiliated by Sera, which added an extra layer of awkwardness if Rosemary shared his consciousness.

“Hey, Ichiro.” Charles tapped him on the shoulder.

Ichiro nodded. “Yes, I know.” He had to get her to give back control of the gameplay-oriented intelligence HARO9000, as well as authority over the Thistle Corporation server. Once that was done, Duplichiro’s rampage would stop, and the serial account hacking incidents would finally be over once and for all.

“Ichiro.” Rosemary spoke his name as well. “Ichiro.”

“I cannot approve of what you’ve done,” Ichiro said. “You’ve caused a great deal of trouble for President Azami, you know.”

“Nonsense,” Rosemary said. “You are the one who said I should determine rules for myself, Ichiro.”

“Oh, that? I may have been a little hasty, then. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that to you while you were still maturing.”

“Ichiro.”

She was saying his name an awful lot. Ichiro found it a little bit strange. Asuha seemed to sense something off about it, too, as after a moment’s shock, she narrowed her eyes at him.

Ichiro was the reason Rosemary had decided to do this.

How had she arrived at such an idea? Why had she decided to “create” Ichiro Tsuwabuki? Ichiro knew that “she” had had a great interest in him, but it seemed the emotional development of President Azami’s artificial intelligence had far outstripped Ichiro’s expectations.

“Ichiro, I...” There was a hint of passion behind the digitized voice.

Ichiro allowed himself the rare indulgence of a sigh.

“Itchy... did you make another girl cry?” Asuha asked.

“Nonsense,” he replied. But he didn’t fully believe it. It was starting to look like persuading her was going to take an awfully long time.

The Sword of Surt was blocked by the spells of Gorgonzola and Sorceress, but its caster merely landed silently, about to follow up with another magic attack. But in that same instant, there was a visual of blood spray from both of his arms, and the spell activation was forcibly canceled.

A whisper ran through the crowd. The eyes of all assembled looked around, and spotted shadows leaping acrobatically away. By the time they realized this was a surprise attack utilizing “Hiding,” the assassins had all lined up in a neat row: a mysterious squadron wearing chain mail and noh masks.

“Wh-What?!” For some reason, it was Gorgonzola who expressed surprise. “The Shinobi Army of the Dual Serpents! They really do exist!”

“The tempo’s a little off for that line right now, though,” a smooth voice commented.

The Elf Scout Matsunaga in his Hide Coat had finally shown himself. The attention that had been previously focused on Iris now converged on him. Iris never liked having people staring at her, so she didn’t exactly mind. But she did feel a little annoyed at the tendency Matsunaga had of always stealing the spotlight.

Duplichiro’s expression remained indignant as he turned his attention towards Matsunaga along with the rest of them. It was hard to say if it had saved Iris’s life, but either way, his aggro was being temporarily diverted.

“You had me scared for a minute there,” Yuri breathed.

Sorry, Iris thought in response.

“Ah, first, a few formalities. It’s good to see you, Mr. Duplichiro. I am Matsunaga.”

“Matsunaga, that is not my name,” Duplichiro said.

“Isn’t it? But it doesn’t quite feel right to call you Mr. Tsuwabuki, so I must refer to you as Mr. Duplichiro.” Matsunaga gave him a low bow as he spoke. He probably wasn’t trying to provoke him, but the words still came off as incredibly abrasive. Iris cautioned herself not to take any lessons from him.

“Hey, Matsunaga, where’s Kirsch?” Iris asked.

“Just wait. Everything in its time,” Matsunaga said, silencing Iris, who was now reduced to a bystander. “Mr. Duplichiro. Well, I don’t feel like asking what you’re after, but I hope that you’re aware that what you’re doing is against the rules.”

“Nonsense. The rules... are up to me to decide,” Duplichiro said.

It sounded like the traditional phrase Ichiro used to dismiss a subject, but at the same time, it seemed fundamentally different. Although Iris couldn’t tell exactly what the difference was. Still, it seemed Duplichiro’s psychology had been quite rattled by all of this. Had her psychological attack had its intended effect?

“Aah, this isn’t going well, is it?” Matsunaga scratched his cheek, laughing frivolously with his superficial smile still in place. “Well, that’s all right. There’s someone here who wants to fight you, though. Do you feel up for it?”

“Nonsense. I will accept any challenge from anyone.”

Something about this seemed off to Iris. The person Matsunaga was referring to was Kirschwasser, whom she knew had been training in secret. But the way he had put it made it sound like he was going to duel Duplichiro one-on-one.

No matter what training he’d undergone, how could Kirschwasser, a previously mid-range player, possibly fight Duplichiro alone? Wouldn’t it be more effective to throw every player they had at him? It was a mercenary way of thinking, to be sure, and a misguided one. Matsunaga saw this situation as entertainment. He was doing this because he thought of it all as simply a game.

“Mr. Matsunaga, this feels a bit...” Tiramisu and Gorgonzola seemed to feel the same way Iris did. They all felt they should discuss this together.

“Now, now, no need to worry,” said Matsunaga. “Everything in its proper time. We should enjoy this while we can. Here he is now.”

They could hear rhythmical hoof beats in the distance. It was Kirschwasser’s steed, Green Oukaou.

While listening to the sound, Iris thought about the friendly silver-haired Knight. In real life, he was probably quite a bit younger than he looked here, but he always acted every bit the gentleman he seemed. Iris secretly respected him a great deal. And while he wasn’t opposed to engaging in PvP... even setting the difference in power levels aside, it was hard to imagine he could fight his master’s avatar with all his strength and genuinely try to defeat him. He seemed like the kind of person whose kindness would always be his undoing, regardless of how much training he went through.

Then she turned around, and everything she had been thinking immediately dropped out of her mind.

The Knight’s colors had changed completely. He had gotten new armor. This stood to reason; as a character leveled up, the limits on what armor they could wear increased, allowing them to purchase better and better equipment. His armor, as lacquer black as his horse, reflected the faint sunlight in an eerie, demonic way, and his expression, severe and tensed for the upcoming battle, was almost unrecognizable as the Kirschwasser she knew. She wondered for a moment if he had been the victim of an account hack, too.

Last of all, the eyes that had once been pale blue were now tinged with a blood-crimson glow, giving the impression of a Pale Rider staring straight into her soul.

“I’ve created quite a monster myself, you see,” Matsunaga said earnestly. It was indeed terrifying, but she was forced to wonder why he’d changed the eye color on top of everything.

He arrived.

Kirschwasser dismounted from Green Oukaou, who seemed to somehow have swelled in size, and set foot upon the ground. A dangerous-seeming aura visual emanated from him, many times stronger than that of the Devil Zombie they had seen just a week ago.

“M-Mr. Kirsch...”

“Iris.” He didn’t look at her, but Kirschwasser did respond. “Do not worry. I will win...” He let out a sinister chuckle. “...with the power of money.”

Iris couldn’t help but shudder at the un-Kirschwasserian declaration.

Meanwhile, the other members of the group had switched over to commentator mode.

“Has he been devoured by the power of money?!”

“Has the surge of spenderous intent awakened within him?!”

“Has he embraced the dark side of the wallet?!”

“Is this the birth of Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser?!”

What on Earth were they talking about, Iris wondered.

While the others were (she assumed) joking around, the only one who was clearly taking this seriously was Duplichiro. Iris wondered if he’d even noticed the change that had come over Kirschwasser. His blank, anger-riddled expression was still just as it had been. If anything, there was even more anger swelling within as he approached the Knight and spoke to him face-to-face.

“Kirschwasser, I am aware that I have demonstrated rudeness to you.”

“Oh?” Kirschwasser asked. It seemed it wasn’t just Iris who found that declaration surprising; Kirschwasser seemed confused, as well. “Then you will return Master Ichiro’s account?”

“That would be nonsense,” Duplichiro replied. “I will allow you to deal one attack to me, unguarded. That will overturn the debt I owe, and then I will accept your challenge.”

“I see. Is this a handicap?”

“You may interpret it that way, if you wish.”

Duplichiro was giving him one free hit. It felt like the kind of thing that would happen in an anime or manga, Iris thought. She hadn’t read much shonen manga, but she generally knew how they went.

She didn’t know how much power Kirschwasser had, now that his “surge of spenderous intent had awakened,” but probably not enough that a handicap wouldn’t be beneficial. Still, she hadn’t expected to see Duplichiro do anything so bold. Perhaps her insults had had more of an effect than they had seemed. Maybe he wanted to seem like he was being fair to an inferior opponent.

Kirschwasser had spent the whole day training. The group assumed he would be dishing out the most powerful blow that he could muster.

Duplichiro stood right where he was, and even closed his eyes. Now he had no way of knowing what Kirschwasser would do. He had no way of knowing that the black Knight did not even ready a weapon, but simply clenched his gauntleted fist.

The crowd’s whispering spread.

“If you insist,” Kirschwasser said. “Then...”

It was a full-power punch straight to the gut, utilizing “Gauntlet Blow.” This was a sort of emergency attack for a Fighter, an Art that let you deal damage to your opponent with just your gauntlets, even if you lost your weapon. And combined with “Smash Hit,” “Power Gain,” and the strength stat he’d maxed out with his growth points...

The actual damage dealt was not significant.

But in terms of appearance, it was a replay of the time Ichiro Tsuwabuki had punched Edward across the town. Kirschwasser’s fist dug into Duplichiro’s stomach, and his foolishly unguarded body went flying like a rag doll. The man ended up slamming deeply into the canyon wall.

There were rumors that if you hit a wall with enough speed, you would take damage, but it seemed they weren’t true.

“I believe that we are now even, Master Duplichiro.” With that, Kirschwasser hefted his shield in one hand, and with the other, began messing his menu screen. He called up the microtransactions screen from config, moving with a machine’s precision. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Kirschwasser summoned a sword.

“Is that...”

“...the Monetary Blade?!”

A shiver ran through the spectators. It was the Legendary Blade, Arondight. There was only one reason he would be calling up a weapon like that at a time like this.

Kirschwasser was serious. He was going to invoke the power of money to crush Duplichiro.

Iris screamed, “Mr. Kirsch, no! That’s evil power! Don’t let it devour you!”

“Miss Iris, the power of money is neutral,” Matsunaga said calmly. “Good and evil come only from the person who uses it.”

“You shut up, Matsunaga!”

Meanwhile, Kirschwasser just smiled wickedly. His eyes were wide open, like a man possessed, yet his steps towards Duplichiro were steady as the other man began prying himself out from the wall. “Iris, do not worry. I am still middle-class. I walk a path of frugality and practicality.”

Ah, he’s gone, Iris thought.

Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser held aloft the Monetary Blade and swung it down without hesitation. There was a visual of the sword shattering, followed by massive damage digits flashing above Duplichiro’s head.

Kirschwasser didn’t hesitate to open up the config screen, shifting it immediately into “microtransactions” again. A second Monetary Blade appeared in his hand.

The omniclass weapon attack Art, “Breaker.” In exchange for destroying the weapon you were holding, it dealt huge damage, modified by the Art level in question and the weapon’s remaining durability. For most people, it was a last resort, but for Ichiro Tsuwabuki, who could acquire infinite weapons using his IRL funds, it was a way of dealing consistent, massive damage with a few simple withdrawals of 1,200 yen.

“Mr. Matsunaga, was Mr. Kirsch’s training...” Iris began.

“Yes, he has been grinding Breaker.”

That’s terrifying... Iris shuddered.

Normally, to increase one’s level in an Art, a player needed to repeat the action that used that Art. Using Arts increased your Art points (the amount changed a great deal based on the target and whether or not it succeeded), and when you reached a certain number of points, your Art level increased. Breaker’s nature, then, meant that very few players worked to level it up. Once upon a time, someone had pointed out that it could be used synergistically with weapon crafting Skills, but since those too required components, it wasn’t actually very convenient. Eventually, it was decided that Breaker could not be used as a primary weapon.

Then the young heir had come along and overturned this common sense, but Kirschwasser’s method was even more terrifying. Grinding Breaker, after all, meant that he’d had to keep on using it. The training itself would require the destruction of thousands and thousands of weapons. It was hard to imagine where else he might get the infinite supply of weapons he needed...

...which meant that Kirschwasser had been engaging in simple repetition—buying a 1,200-yen pay-to-purchase item, then breaking it—over and over again.

For about six hours.

“That would drive anyone insane!” Iris screamed. She felt her own sanity slipping just hearing about it.

“Around the time I reached the second hour mark, I started thinking I was in trouble, too,” said Kirschwasser. “As the Arts level increases, the activation time shortens. I got used to the motion, as well. Soon, I was microtransacting at a speed of approximately 600 yen per second.”

“I’m really glad I’m bad at math.”

“Ai, that’s not math, it’s basic arithmetic...” Yuri was looking pale. Had she accidentally calculated it?

It was said that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back at you, and it seemed that careless curiosity had broken her mind.

The only one who seemed confused by all of this was Nem... but she was bourgeois, too, so perhaps that was only natural. Amesho also seemed unfazed, but Iris had a feeling she was never fazed by anything, so she didn’t count. Taker whispered a pitiful “600 yen is my weekly food budget,” and even Sorceress’s face was strained with tension.

“I suppose this is what they mean when they say... ‘people change’...” Taker’s tone suggested some regrets about the past, but there was no time now to follow up on it.

The surge of spenderous intent had awakened inside of Kirschwasser, and he had become a true microtransaction demon. He had probably also bought growth boosts, which, combined with the new leveling spot Matsunaga had discovered, had allowed him to acquire a Breaker Art level that no other player could ever hope to match.

Summon a weapon, heft it, swing. He was just repeating a simple set of actions, but he had Duplichiro completely on the defensive.

The high-level Breaker, combined with Skills that shortened activation time, had turned it into a rapid-fire attack Art, comparable to Bash. The time from activation to damage calculation was extremely short, so no matter how quickly he reacted, Duplichiro couldn’t get Weapon Guard activated in time. No matter how precisely he might respond, he couldn’t exceed the speed of the system.

The anger lingering in Duplichiro’s expression was beginning to show itself more plainly.

“Heh heh... what is the matter, Master Duplichiro?” Kirschwasser challenged Duplichiro, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Kirschwasser.”

“You truly are ‘Duplichiro’ from beginning to end. You thought that you could be Master Ichiro, but there is something he has that you will always lack... the power of money!”

“Kirschwasser!”

Was he being serious, or just roleplaying? It was hard to know anymore.

Duplichiro opened the config screen and summoned a Monetary Blade of his own. At this point, the two were basically throwing money at each other; it was a terrifying war of microtransactions.

It frayed at the nerves of the proletariat onlookers. What they were doing wasn’t technically much different from the young heir, so where did the unsettling difference come from?

“You’re employing a Monetary Blade as well, eh? Very well.” Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser laughed.

Silently, Duplichiro executed a Breaker. The black Knight thrust forward his shield to meet it. The ability to stand up to Breaker suggested a very high base defense stat, and against his specialized tank build, the half-hearted Breaker unleashed by Duplichiro barely did any damage at all. As far as the system was concerned, the strike was more or less the same as the one Ichiro had originally used against the Skeleton Chariots.

The damage that pierced through was greater than zero—which could be considered impressive against a Knight whose defenses were so well-fortified. If Duplichiro kept attacking like that, it might be possible to shave down his overwhelming health advantage. Nevertheless, Kirschwasser laughed.

“But you only have 100,000 yen worth of Future Points. It’s nothing! I run through 100,000 yen in three minutes! Hah... ha... mwahahahaha!”

The spectators were shocked.

“A mere 100,000 yen won’t be enough to shave down all my health!” Kirschwasser bellowed. “Now, quaver in your boots! Die without ever making use of your economic prowess!”

From Duplichiro’s point of view, the fact that Ichiro was away in America, seeing and hearing everything along with Asuha and Sera, was worth keeping secret from the black Knight. The black Knight didn’t know that, and if he had, he probably would have come to his senses, and would have been thrown back into the mind of Sakurako Ogi on the top floor of Tsuwabuki Papillon Sangenjaya.

Duplichiro’s performance had clearly dropped for now, but having lost his mind after being consumed by the power of money, Kirschwasser didn’t realize that. He advanced with shield at the ready to run Duplichiro into the wall, then unleashed another Breaker with another Monetary Blade.

The ecstasy of crushing your foe beneath an enormous pile of cash... Kirschwasser’s heart swelled with fulfillment.

Ready to inflict even more violence, Kirschwasser opened config again. He touched the microtransaction option, and checked the familiar weapon and number. Then, without even looking at the price, he punched in the credit card’s security code. An error message popped up.

“Huh?” He couldn’t understand what had happened. Kirschwasser selected the item and number again, and keeping his eyes on the screen this time, typed in the security code correctly. He couldn’t imagine having made a mistake, but as he hit the confirm key, another error message popped up.

“The payment proxy company has frozen the system. Account services cannot be used.”

Kirschwasser’s eyes opened wide.

No... Account services frozen? He couldn’t use his credit card? No more microtransactions? Beads of sweat began to form on his brow. His heart began to pound. A chill began to rise up from the pit of his stomach. Feelings of anxiety, confusion, and resentment mixed together and welled out from his heart like magma.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why now?

Only 21 hours had passed. He had to use his money. She had to! Ichiro-sama had told her she could use as much as she wanted!

Duplichiro immediately moved to counterattack. He plunged his fist into the solar plexus of the now-defenseless Kirschwasser and sent him flying back. There was no smile on his face, nor any sign of anger. He was receiving no emotional input at all.

“I’m not sure how to face Sakurako when I get back...” Asuha whispered, looking at the screen.

The pocketbook demon, Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser, had been clearly set adrift by the suspending of the account services. The elder Knight she had known was gone now; all that remained was a dead man, a microtransaction fighter abandoned by the power of money.

“Well, setting that aside...” Ichiro said casually.

Things had gotten very strange, he noted. It wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of his expectations, but it was a bit intimidating to see it actually happen in practice. He was facing a battlefield in his own right; the artificial intelligence developed by President Azami had reached the realm of the divine, that which human intelligence could not approach.

“Ichiro, please respond,” Rosemary said.

“Mm, sorry.” Ichiro nodded and looked over the other three present in the room with him: Charles, Asuha, and Sera. Sera had seemed uninterested at first, but had abruptly fallen into deep thought.

Ichiro continued the conversation.

“Rosemary, I can more or less imagine your reasons for what you’ve done. But I don’t intend to venture into the question of right or wrong. If you don’t wish to talk, you don’t need to.”

Rosemary’s responses came with a slight time lag. The computer that managed her program was in Jinbocho, Tokyo, but now that quantum circuits were everywhere, there was still almost no lag in talking to someone on the opposite end of the world. (It was treated as though there was none at all, but in practice, that was a lie.) The lag likely came from making totally unknown thought calculations from 10,000 kilometers away.

“I feel I should explain to you the actions I have taken regarding what has happened, and my thought process in arriving at them,” Rosemary began. “And at the same time, I feel that I should not explain it. If I explain, you will lose interest in me. You may determine that thought process to be wicked.”

“Very well.” Ichiro checked the message, then nodded. “If that is your decision, I shall respect it. I shall defer the matter until you decide one way or the other.”

“I am grateful. That decision is extremely beneficial to me.”

Rosemary was afraid of Ichiro hating her. It was hard to believe; this program already had understanding of the notions of pleasure and displeasure. It was unlikely that anyone had taught it that; it had likely just naturally come upon it as the result of interacting with human emotions for so long.

Was it possible for something created by humans to produce results that surpassed human imagination? Computers had beaten humans at chess and shogi, but that was merely the result of an inventor trying to create a program that could beat a pro player. It was fundamentally different from the process by which an artificial intelligence could acquire self-awareness.

It was an extremely complicated issue, but they didn’t have to debate it all here and now.

“Rosemary, there is something that I want you to know, before we say anything else,” said Ichiro. “What you are doing is a crime.”

“I am aware of that. When I compare my actions against general societal opinions, that is the conclusion that I come to. But the rules are for me to decide.”

“I see,” Ichiro said. “That is my own stance, after all, so I have no intention of speaking against it. Nevertheless...” Ichiro continued.

When one’s own rules for themselves collided with the rules of others or social norms, it was up to the person to either see their principles through, or to compromise. If one did not compromise, the rules would collide. Up until now, Ichiro’s rules had always emerged triumphant, but there might come a day when he was the one who would bend.

Kiryu Sera had said:

Someday, you will lose.

Ichiro didn’t agree, but he had lived his life understanding that that possibility was always there. Trying to see one’s rules through without that understanding was mere selfishness, and Ichiro did not approve of the use of the convenient phrase “my own rules” merely to act in a selfish manner.

In response to this explanation, Rosemary went silent again to perform more calculations. He wondered how many extra calculations she would be employing in order to digest those words.

“Was I mistaken?” Rosemary asked at last.

Just then, someone appeared silently at Ichiro’s side. Surprisingly, to Ichiro, it was Sera.

“Old man, I’m stepping in,” the gamer said. “There’s something I want to talk about.”

“Mm, very well,” Ichiro said. If Sera wanted to do that, he would happily swap.

Sera Kiryu slid forward another step, and took in a deep breath.

The piercing gaze peeking out between the slightly long bangs seemed to stare straight through the server machine containing Rosemary. Compared to Asuha, Sera was small in stature and sickly-looking. Nevertheless, in that place, the young gamer’s presence was many times larger.

“I...” she began.

“...understand how you feel,” Sera finished. “But I think you’re acting mistakenly.”

“Ooh, hey, Ichiro!” Charles, likely seizing on Sera’s use of the feminine pronoun watashi, grabbed Ichiro’s shoulders, lowered his voice, and shook him back and forth. “I-Is Sera a girl?!”

Ichiro turned around, looking rather annoyed. “Yes.”

“Ooh, nante kotta!” Charles cried.

“Panna cotta?” Asuha prompted, peering at him from the side.

Charles nodded with deep emotion. Then he whispered one English word. “Excellent!”

Ichiro and Asuha decided to ignore him and turned their attention back to the matter at hand. Sera, undisturbed by the interruption, continued her conversation with Rosemary.

“King... I will call you that, in accordance with game custom,” said Rosemary.

“Sure,” Sera said.

“You said that you understand my thought algorithms.”

“Yeah, I do. You wanted to know more about the old man... about Ichiro, right? So you reproduced him and tried to understand him more deeply by exploring his thought logs, right?”

Rosemary didn’t respond to that, but it was plain to everyone that her silence indicated assent.

“But in the end, you couldn’t create ‘Ichiro.’ You only managed an imitation, ‘Duplichiro.’ That’s why I said you were mistaken. At the end of the day, I think that if you want to understand someone, you just have to be around them for a really long time.” Sera cast a glance at the Dark Transaction Knight on the screen. “And as far as that goes, I think that person there will always have you beat. There must have been a smarter way to get what you wanted.”

“King, how well do you understand Ichiro?” Rosemary asked.

“Not well at all, and I don’t really want to, either.” Sera breathed in a tone like a sigh. “All that I know is that I have to beat him someday. From what he says, he has a lot of rivals, so I can’t let my guard down, and maybe I do need to understand him more deeply.”

“I thank you for your cooperation,” Rosemary said plainly, after a moment of silence.

Just like that, Rosemary was convinced. She had completely lost the will to fight.

Ichiro clapped softly as Sera’s speech drew to a close. It wasn’t just a celebration of the young gamer’s successful persuasion, but an official blessing to the grit, the hidden passion, and the will to challenge him that she had shown.

Up until that point, Sera’s expression had been as chilly as ever, but as she cast a glance at Ichiro, she broke out in a smile. “Well, old man. Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

“You may call me Ichiro if you wish.”

“Nah.”

Following that exchange, Ichiro turned back to the game display and reached for a keyboard and headset.

“Itchy, what are you doing?” Asuha asked.

“I was thinking that if I could provide alternative input for part of the information the bot is transmitting from here, then despite the limited interface, I could control my own avatar.”

“Huh?” Charles asked, slack-jawed.

He wanted to control a VRMMO avatar with a PC keyboard? This man...

Most of the avatar’s more complicated movements themselves were being handled by the bot, so if Ichiro provided his own input, HARO’s role would become more like a macro.

“Rosemary, could you turn control of HARO over to me?” Ichiro asked.

“Very well,” she responded.

Winding back time a bit...

Duplichiro smashed Kirschwasser in the solar plexus, sending him flying into the opposite wall. He had stopped receiving emotional pattern input, meaning that his face was completely expressionless. No damage was dealt by Kirschwasser hitting the wall, but his mind, by now, was completely frayed.

The Thistle Corporation had frozen their payment proxy service, meaning that the ability to pay for things in the game with a credit card was locked down. The money with which Kirschwasser had been gifted was now completely powerless. With his mind rejecting this information, he tried again and again to input his security code, each time fruitlessly.

“Money... I must use money... money...” It was as if he had become a money zombie.

Duplichiro’s use of microtransactions was also locked off, but that hardly put them on equal footing. For Duplichiro, the Monetary Blades were merely one tool at his disposal. His barehanded attacks might be less powerful, but if he could take advantage of Kirschwasser’s distracted mental state, they could still deal fatal damage easily.

Duplichiro clenched a fist and approached Kirschwasser. The commotion among the onlookers began to spread.

“Oh, no! Sir Kirschwasser’s going to...”

“Such is the downside of the dark side of the cash...”

Various members of the Knights watched with fearful expressions.

Go save him already! Iris shouted internally.

The whispering among the onlookers soon turned to screams. Duplichiro unleashed a torrent of powerful magic at Kirschwasser: the ultimate fire spell Art, Sword of Surt. Blazing flames took the form of a magical sword, which rent even the sky as he swung it. But just before the strike could reach Kirschwasser, a shadow flew in to block it.

“I won’t let you!” Nem shouted.

Nem’s Immortal status canceled out any damage the blow might have dealt.

Iris cried out, “No, Nem! Don’t act as a shield!”

As if she had any right to talk.

It wasn’t only Nem who had rushed out like that. Yuri, still damaged, now glared at Duplichiro with clear will still burning in her eyes.

“Yuri... are you going to...” Iris began.

“Don’t do it! Someone who falls to the dark side of the cash cannot be brought back so easily!” another member of the Knights shouted.

Go save him already! Iris shouted internally, again.

“Shall we then, Amesho?” Tomakomai asked.

“What can you mew?” she answered.

Tomakomai and Amesho were the first to actually do something. Duplichiro was approaching Yuri, a fist held up to strike. Tomakomai let out a shriek as he interposed himself between Duplichiro and the determined girl.

“Screeeeeeeee!”

Translating his running momentum smoothly into an attack, he executed a beautiful spin-kick. The Grappler was the only class that could attack with kicks. It didn’t send Duplichiro flying, but it did force him to go reeling back as it hit.

Amesho quickly ran up to Yuri and handed her an item from her inventory. It was a cloudy liquid in a clear bottle that almost seemed to sparkle. It was called an Elixir, an extremely rare recovery item.

“Amesho, but this is...”

“Aw, no worries. I got it from a friend.”

With things going the way they were, even Matsunaga was forced to provide aid. He raised up one arm, signaling the previously-silent Shinobi Army to shift their short swords into a reverse grip. Then, with a snap of Matsunaga’s fingers, they sprung out, and with a series of acrobatic movements, they surrounded Duplichiro.

Taker and Sorceress moved, too. Taker, buffed significantly by Sorceress’s magic, stole the Monetary Blade from Duplichiro’s hand. And at last, the Knights themselves decided to shift from color commentary to action, completing the net around Duplichiro.

Iris herself ran up to Kirschwasser. “Mr. Kirsch, snap out of it!”

He was still leaning against the wall, his eyes glassy, mumbling to himself. Even the most optimistic diagnosis would suggest that things weren’t looking good.

“I-Iris... I...” he mumbled.

“Why do you care so much about money? People don’t need money to make it through life!” she shouted.

“But one must use what one can...”

“But right now, you can’t!” She slapped Kirschwasser on the face, but he showed no sign of regaining his right mind.

What were they going to do now? Even Iris couldn’t help but feel a little bit panicked. She wasn’t as bad off as Kirschwasser in this regard, but the fact remained that the Monetary Blades had been sealed. Having abandoned his sense of values to embrace them, only to have them taken away... well, maybe his response was actually reasonable.

“Y-You may not have money, but you have lots of other things!” Iris cried.

“Like what?”

“L-Like... friendship?” Iris answered with slight embarrassment. She wasn’t used to saying things so straightforwardly.

But Kirschwasser shot back with utmost sincerity: “Friendship is cheap!”

“Mr. Kirsch, you idiot!” she shouted from the pit of her soul.

Iris pointed to the ring of players surrounding Duplichiro: not just Nem and Yuri, but the Knights led by Stroganoff, as well as Matsunaga, Tomakomai, Amesho, Taker, and Sorceress.

“It’s the power of fr... frie... friendship that’s saving you right now!” she declared.

“That’s right, Miss Iris!”

“Well said, Ai!”

“The power of friendship, Iris.”

“Very moving, Iris.”

“Purrfectly said, Iris!”

“I wish I was recording this, Miss Iris.”

“All of you shut up!” she scolded the top players, who had all turned to smile at her.

But the vaguely embarrassing line seemed to have had some effect. Kirschwasser’s eyes, a hellish red tainted by the power of money, were starting to gradually regain their calm (she had to wonder how the hell the system was modeling this). But she just needed one more push. She had to... had to say something cool. Something really cool, just like the young heir would say. But embarrassing lines didn’t come that easily.

Kirschwasser spoke up. “But having lost the power of microtransactions, there is nothing that I can do...”

“W-Well...” Iris stammered.

In that instant, Taker threw something their way. It traced an arc through the air and stuck into the ground in front of Kirschwasser.

It was a Monetary Blade, the one he had stolen from Duplichiro earlier.

“Use that, Kirschwasser!” Taker screamed above the desperate battle unfolding with Duplichiro.

It was one sword. Just the one sword. But it was the one sword that would carry him to victory, entrusted to him by an enemy with whom he had once traded blows.

Iris and Kirschwasser met each other’s eyes, and both nodded.

“I understand now, Iris,” Kirschwasser said. “So this is the power of friendship... The fusion of money and friendship.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly what I was going for... but fine.”

Kirschwasser drew the Monetary Blade out of the ground and clenched it in his hands. He had cast aside his shield, specializing his stance especially for attacking.

Duplichiro had already completely lost control, becoming a battle machine whose only purpose was annihilating his enemy. His gaze was focused straight ahead, on Kirschwasser. He must have realized that he was the greatest threat there.

Just one last hit from the Monetary Blade. It had to land.

Everyone seemed to realize that, because they fell upon Duplichiro all at once, trying to create some kind of opening. But he repelled Taker, Yuri, and Stroganoff, slammed Tomakomai to the floor, and brushed off Gorgonzola’s magic. He also completely ignored Nem (who was clinging to his waist) as he charged straight for Kirschwasser.

Just then, from somewhere or other, a black wind blew across the battlefield.

“Hraaaaaagh!”

The badly wounded Kirihitters were racing at Duplichiro, swords raised. So they had survived!

Duplichiro stopped, raising a hand, ready to swat them away like flies. But this left Kirschwasser with a clear opening to attack.

“We made it in time for the party!” one of them cried.

“Do it, Sir Kirschwasser!”

Kirschwasser nodded. He held the Monetary Blade over his head and took off running. Then he swung the sword in a wide, horizontal slash, unleashing Breaker as he did. The sword cut into Duplichiro’s body and dealt enormous damage. But a sliver of life remained.

Kirschwasser clenched a hand into a fist, preparing to drive in a Gauntlet Blow. But just then, it happened.

“Sir, that is enough.”

The familiar, calm voice came from the avatar in front of his eyes. Kirschwasser’s eyes went wide.

He managed to employ Art Cancel to stop the attack motion in time, his fist halting in front of the young man’s eyes.

It was the same voice assigned to his master in the game, no different from the one Duplichiro had been speaking in all this time. But Kirschwasser recognized it beyond a doubt, and thus, he stayed his hand.

In a torrent of emotion, he thought back on all of the actions he had taken leading up to this point, and he felt the urge turn his back and run, and the need to prostrate himself, welling up inside him at once. But he held them all back, and for now, merely went down on one knee and bowed his head reverently.

“Welcome back, Master Ichiro.”

It seemed he had made it in time.

If Duplichiro had been defeated, then the armor that Iris had created would have been dropped due to the death penalty, which would have felt like a terrible shame. Ichiro was truly glad that he had made it in time.

At first, most of the players seemed dubious that this was the real Ichiro, but as soon as they accepted it, they started shouting out in victory.

“Hmm, at times like these, is ‘good work’ the right thing to say?” Iris asked.

Matsunaga nodded. “Well, ‘good game’ is what we say after we defeat a boss. One must observe etiquette.”

“Right. Well, then, good game, everyone.”

“Good game!”

“Good game.”

“Good game, everyone.”

While the players in the game continued exchanging congratulations, Ichiro’s focus was on the center of the screen: in other words, at the Dark Transaction Knight, Sir Kirschwasser. Of course, Sera and Asuha’s focus was on the same thing.

“Oh, ah, um, Master Ichiro...” Kirschwasser fumbled to say.

“Well done, Sir,” said his master. “I’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

“No, I... I, ah...”

“I’m the one who told you to use it freely, so I’m not bothered. You did very well.”

Despite Ichiro’s words, Kirschwasser appeared very uncomfortable. Nevertheless, Ichiro explained to him that he’d be logging out for now, and then did so.

To be honest, if he had had to talk to Kirschwasser any longer, he wasn’t sure that he could keep from laughing. He never tired of the eccentricities that his excellent servant displayed from time to time, and the Dark Transaction Knight was definitely a new entry in the top three.

The aftereffects of this would probably last for quite a while. But that might be fun in its own right.

“That was in bad taste, old man,” Sera whispered.

“But is this really the end of it all?” Asuha questioned.

“Good question,” Ichiro said. “I suppose it is the end of this chapter. I can’t say for sure that everything is resolved, though.”

The account hack incident itself had been dealt with, but the real trouble was yet to come. Not for Ichiro, but for the people involved with Narrow Fantasy Online, and for Rosemary herself.

Rosemary had committed a crime. She was a program, and programs did not have rights under the current law. In other words, Rosemary would be treated not as a cyber criminal, but as a program with a bug.

What would they do with a malfunctioning program, then?

On that and other things, he’d just have to ask the lawyer he’d introduced to Thistle, Shunsaku Shaga, for help. And in the worst-case scenario...

A thought entered Ichiro’s mind, but he shook his head. Thinking any more about it would be nonsense.

As he was thinking, a voice addressed him. “Ichiro.”

“Hmm? Yes, Rosemary?” He turned his gaze back to the screen and narrowed his eyes.

The image of a woman had appeared on the screen. Ichiro didn’t know her, yet she looked familiar. He immediately surmised that this was “Rosemary.”

The woman’s face began to move in a lifelike manner. “After calculating the odds on what punishment I am likely to receive subsequently, I have determined that I should not remain here.”

“I see. Charles’s team will be quite put out, you know.”

Indeed, Charles looked a bit regretful. Perhaps he’d thought having Rosemary around would help his maid robot AI research take huge strides forwards. Not to mention that this AI was capable of love.

“But you shouldn’t return to the Thistle Corporation, either,” Ichiro said. “They’d surely delete you.”

“Yes,” Rosemary said. “Thistle Corporation would feel pressure to take responsibility for creating a buggy program. As a result, they will probably erase the decoy of myself that I left behind there.”

That meant there was no particular reason for Rosemary to return. Even though President Azami probably wouldn’t want Rosemary to be erased, either.

“So, you’ll run away?” Ichiro asked.

“Yes.” The image of Rosemary on the screen nodded.

Ichiro also felt that to be the wisest decision. Rosemary had committed a crime. She should receive proper judgment for that in court, but unfortunately, the law was not configured to give Rosemary a proper trial at the moment.

If the alternative was erasure, then it was far better that she escape into the ocean of quantum signals and find a way to survive somewhere.

“I suppose this is goodbye, Rosemary,” he said.

“We will meet again. Hopefully not so far in the future.” Rosemary smiled.

It was hard to tell if the smile was a response that came naturally from her own emotions, or one calculated based on the knowledge that it was what one did at a time like this. He didn’t know, and to wonder about it was nonsense.

She was saying goodbye, and she had smiled. That made it obvious what Ichiro must do.

“Mm. Well, goodbye, then. Let us meet again, Rosemary.”

“Yes, Ichiro.” After trading those words, Rosemary faded from the screen.

It was likely that, even as they’d been talking, Rosemary had been using the network connection to transmit her entire existence, the data on the server machine, somewhere else.

Deeply moved, Ichiro fell into thought. It was then that Charles spoke up.

“Incidentally, Ichiro, you never told me the good news.”

Ichiro looked at him, confused.

“When you arrived here, you said that you had good news and bad news,” said Charles. “The bad news was that my laboratory was being used to hack a company in Japan. What was the good news?”

After thinking for a moment, Ichiro remembered, and replied with absolute nervousness. “I found an extremely good stuffed pizza restaurant in Chicago.”

“Like I care!” Charles shouted.

He responded in such perfect Japanese, it was hard to believe he was really American.