1 - Noble Son, Make Bail

“Tsuwabuki’s son was arrested?” the company’s chief executive asked.

“It seems so.”

The headquarters for Pony Entertainment was in the Minato Ward of Tokyo. The company’s chief executive officer was sitting on the building’s top floor. There was a severe expression on his time-worn face as he gazed at the desktop where his company’s product, the Miraive Gear X, casually sat.

He was feeling slightly annoyed. He knew he’d been a lot more moody since he’d given up smoking. To placate his lonely mouth, he yanked a drawer open and pulled out a lollipop from within.

“Well, it serves him right. His meddling is what prevented us from taking Thistle over completely. Right?”

“Yes.” The secretary standing at his side gave a quiet nod.

Ichiro Tsuwabuki had been arrested on suspicion of violation of the Unauthorized Computer Access Law.

Otogiri himself had exerted a great deal of effort to make the arrest happen. He had asked, “He was arrested?” like he knew nothing about it, but he would have been quite angry if he hadn’t been.

This would help Otogiri breathe a little easier, but his actual, true objective lay elsewhere. Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s arrest was a false charge, after all. Knowing him, it was entirely possible that he’d quickly prove his innocence right away and be back out on the streets. What was really important were the new truths, and the true culprit, that would come out over the course of proving his innocence.

Of course, quite a few people probably already knew that.

The commotion over the unauthorized access incident that had driven Thistle to suspend NaroFan service had not completely died down yet. If these new truths were brought to light, this time, it might really cause the public’s trust in the Thistle Corporation to plummet. Enough to be fatal for a small company like theirs.

These events had been a windfall for Otogiri. He had used Thistle’s impropriety as a pretext to take administrative control of their company, effectively rendering Thistle a puppet of Pony Entertainment.

But that wasn’t enough.

It was such a waste, in his opinion, that so much of Azami Nono’s VR drive technology was the exclusive property of such a small company. She was better suited to being an engineer than a developer. She acted more like she was running a programming club in college than a group of professionals, and he wanted to put a stop to that.

Leaning back in his seat, Otogiri adopted the same villainous smile that often inclined his acquaintances to compare him to Teruyuki Kagawa. Then he brought the lollipop he had previously only been staring at to his mouth.

It was terribly sweet. He wished he could have something a little more stimulating. Even so, he still moved his tongue slowly around the candy.

“Tsuwabuki, I see you’ve finally done it!” The voice booming through the receiver caused Ichiro to cringe.

“You sound very happy, Somei.”

“I’m not happy at all! I’m sad! You once fought evil by my side, and now you’ve thrown yourself down this criminal path! It’s tearing me apart! I mean, I had a feeling you’d do it some day, but I always thought it would be I who would to expose your evil deeds and bring you to the light!”

“Nonsense.”

Yoshino Somei’s voice was so loud that Ichiro was forced to keep the receiver slightly removed from his ear. The result was that the words could be easily heard all throughout the interrogation room. Since all conversation was likely being recorded to report anything suspicious, this probably didn’t matter. But even so, the rookie detective who was conducting the interrogation, and the veteran detective who had brought Ichiro there, both went wide-eyed as they listened.

“Well, I’m sure you won’t believe me, but I’m not the one who did it,” Ichiro informed her.

“That’s just what a criminal would say.”

“It’s what an innocent person would say, too.”

Ichiro felt a strong urge to just set the phone down. Even the heavyset officer sitting across the table from him was cradling his head in his hands.

“At any rate, I’m grateful for the concern that you’ve shown, in your own way, over the phone,” Ichiro said. “But I have my interrogation to finish, so I’m hanging up now.”

“Ah, wait, Tsuwabuki—”

He pressed the call end button, then returned the receiver to the rookie detective.

The heavyset detective smiled wryly. “I see Somei hasn’t changed at all.”

“Indeed. If anything, her sense of justice has only grown more refined.”

It seemed this detective was the highest ranked of those present, as he instructed both the rookie and the veteran detective to leave. The veteran hesitated for a moment, but eventually bowed and left the interrogation room. As a result, Ichiro was left alone with the detective.

“This takes me back,” the detective mused. “You, Somei, and that Shaga brat. Has it really been five years since you played private eye together?”

“Some things change, while others do not,” Ichiro responded. “For instance, I see you’re still assistant inspector. The same position for 26 years, isn’t it? Congratulations.”

The detective scowled openly, apparently less happy about that subject.

There were plenty of ways Ichiro could renew the old friendship, but he couldn’t do that as long as the man was working. The assistant inspector ignored the jab and set down some documents in front of Ichiro. “Now, let’s see. Tsuwabuki. I never thought I’d see the day when you were arrested, but...”

“I didn’t, either. It was the Unauthorized Computer Access Law, yes? Let’s get right to the question, then. Assistant Inspector, do you think I did it?”

“I don’t, no.” The assistant inspector peered at the documents, then scratched his head. “But there’s an awful lot of evidence here. Access logs and such. I can’t show it to you, of course, but I can confirm that the IP address used to hack Thistle’s servers was the one for your house.”

The victim of this most recent unauthorized access incident was the Thistle Corporation itself. Ever since the first account hack incident some time prior, the Incident Investigation Committee had been searching fervently, and one day they had found signs of unauthorized access in the Ten Sages and the system logs. The discovery had taken so long because there had been no access to the game’s management server. But when they traced the hacking back to the source, they found it was, incredibly, Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s house.

He hadn’t yet been told how those involved felt about all of this, but he was sure that the extension of Edward’s business trip to Tokyo was a result of it. He felt a little bit bad about that.

There were traces of the unauthorized access having occurred periodically a few times after that, but given that it was Ichiro Tsuwabuki they were dealing with, there had apparently been a bit of a scuffle over whether or not to issue the arrest warrant. But since the periodic attacks had continued over the next few days, in the end, they had decided to take him in.

Then the assistant inspector who had known Ichiro for a long time had just happened to be in charge of the case, so here they were, needling each other across the interrogation table.

“I have an idea about what may be going on,” Ichiro said, “and since you are the one in charge of the case, I thought we could work together. What do you think?”

“Hmm? Well, I’m glad you’re inclined to be cooperative. You might be in here for a while.”

The fact that the soft-hearted assistant inspector believed in Ichiro’s innocence was a good sign. Ichiro always had a lucky star pulling things in his favor, although it happened so often that he never even considered that it was luck.

The heavyset, perpetual assistant inspector guffawed as he continued. “Although knowing you, I assume you’re ready to put up a mountain of money for bail.”

“Nonsense. I’d do it if I had to, but I don’t need to right now, and even if I know the money will come back to me, I don’t wish to spend it pointlessly.”

Well, then, they’d start with the interrogation. Even if it was just a formality, they had to do it.

The assistant inspector was a friendly man, so there was no need to worry that he was asking leading questions, but Ichiro likely would have said the same sorts of things regardless of who was leading the investigations. He simply said exactly what he was thinking, and took so many tangents that it was difficult to get anything down on the record.

“I hear what you’re saying, but we do have evidence, and while we sit here jabbering, they’re probably forcing a case together,” the detective said. “What are you gonna do, call that Shaga kid?”

“Normally, that’s what I’d do. But since he’s acting as Thistle’s lawyer, I may have to go elsewhere.”

Shaga was a skilled lawyer with a disagreeable personality. He could be a strong companion, but if Ichiro couldn’t have him on his side, he might be forced to use more heavy-handed methods.

They said they had evidence, but Ichiro knew it would be simple to prove his innocence. The true culprit behind the fraudulent access was inside Ichiro’s house, after all, so all he had to do was catch them and present them to the police. The trouble was that there was no legal framework regarding that person’s criminal liability, so the real difficulty would lie in proving his own innocence while also protecting her.

While Ichiro thought, a knock came on the interrogation room door.

“Oh, come on in,” the detective said.

“Excuse me.” It was the rookie cop who had brought in Takano Somei’s call earlier. He’d been putting through all kinds of calls to Ichiro—from his great-grandfather Hayato Tsuwabuki, to his second cousin Asuha Tsuwabuki, to his second cousin Goro Nyudo Masamune Tsuwabuki—and Ichiro felt a bit bad about forcing him to come in and out like this.

He hadn’t had a call from his father Meiro yet, and thought it likely that he wouldn’t, but he still assumed that this would be another phone call.

“Actually, there’s a girl here to see you.”

Ichiro and the assistant inspector exchanged a glance. He had no idea what girl could possibly be coming to see him.

There were possibilities, of course. Asuha Tsuwabuki, Sera Kiryu... it wouldn’t be strange for them to come racing down, but it seemed a bit too soon for that.

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Airi Kakitsubata. She said, ‘Bring out the young heir.’”

“Ahh,” Ichiro said. Of course.

“You recognize the name?”

“I don’t, but I believe it’s someone I know. If she came all the way to see me, I must have put her through quite a lot of worry.” This development changed his circumstances slightly, so Ichiro posed a question to the assistant inspector, very clearly: “What is the price of my bail?”

“Hey, now. This isn’t what you said earlier. I thought you weren’t going to waste your money.”

“It is what I said earlier.” Ichiro spoke in his usual cool tones. “I said I would spend the money if I had to. Now that a friend has come to see me, the money I would spend to see her would not be wasted at all.”

The assistant inspector just let out a sigh, as if this was a confirmation of one of his suspicions.

Ichiro arrived in the lobby to find a slender girl, flanked by police officers, waiting for him.

She didn’t much resemble the avatar that he knew, but Ichiro immediately understood that she was Airi Kakitsubata, and that she was the player of the Elf Alchemist Iris in Narrow Fantasy Online. At least, she carried around the same sort of small mammal vibe.

She seemed to recognize him at once, too, as she quickly stood up from the sofa and began to stride in his direction. She acted so suddenly that the officers couldn’t stop her.

“Young heir!”

“Hey.”

“Wh-What have you done?!”

That this was the first thing out of her mouth suggested a severe lack of trust on her part.

Even so, Ichiro answered, his smile not faltering for a moment. “I have always tried to live a rich and full life, and thus, I have done quite a few things in my time. However, not a single one of them was deserving of arrest.”

“Then what are you doing here?” she demanded.

“No matter how systematic the world may appear, as long as it is still run by humans, errors will occur. It seems I just happen to have been the one on the receiving end of the error this time. Incidentally, I’ve been released on bail.”

Behind him, the assistant inspector waved with a wry smile. Airi seemed to realize that he must be the detective in charge of the case, and she nodded back, a slight frown on her face.

“I’m impressed you made it this far, still,” he continued.

“Ah, yeah. They showed the police station on the news, and my house wasn’t that far away, so...”

Whatever the reason, he had never expected their first meeting to be under these circumstances. It made for quite an unusual offline meetup. Seeing Ichiro face-to-face for the first time seemed to have quelled some of her anxieties, but whether it was the fact that they were in a police station or the fact that her first real-life meeting with him was happening under these circumstances, she still seemed to be racked by another kind of tension.

Well, he’d paid his bail, Ichiro thought, so it wouldn’t do to remain around here for much longer. The police would probably continue to monitor him even if he left, which meant that there was no reason to stay.

“Iris, shall we go outside?” he asked.

“Ah, so you really are calling me that...”

“Would you prefer that I used your real name?”

“Iris is fine.”

After that light exchange, the two headed outside. It was the middle of August, and the strong sunlight and high temperatures showed no sign of letting up. The oppressive heat had turned the asphalt parking lots into frying pans, so much that even though it was still morning, the area around the police station was already a scorching hell. It was hot enough to even silence the cicadas.

“I was just so shocked when I saw it on TV,” Iris said.

“Ah, so it’s already been on the news? I see the media works quickly.”

Perhaps Somei, who had called earlier, was working overtime.

“But, wow, I can’t believe we finally met,” Airi muttered awkwardly as they started strolling down the sidewalk, not heading anywhere in particular.

“Yes, that’s right. I am ‘Ichiro Tsuwabuki.’”

“I’m ‘Iris.’ Nice to meet you in person.” They didn’t face each other or shake hands, but just gave the traditional offline meetup greetings. “So, what are you gonna do now that you have bail?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But since you came all the way to see me, I was wondering if you’d come home with me for lunch. Sir Kirschwasser would be very pleased to see you.”

Even as he said it, though, he had hesitation about asking Sakurako to make lunch when she was still in recovery from her nouveau riche disease. On top of that, they had excised the luxury furniture from the living room for just a rush mat, so it might not be a very welcoming environment for visitors. Well, they could think about it after they got home.

Whether aware of Ichiro’s concerns or not, Airi’s expression darkened. “A 23-year-old inviting a trade school student he met on the internet to his house...”

Ichiro laughed heartily. “Nonsense.”

But he realized that her incredulity about his behavior was not limited to that matter alone. Even though he’d posted bail, he was still under suspicion, and he could end up on trial if he wasn’t careful. It seemed like she also believed in his innocence, but even then, the question of how best to prove that still remained.

Well, it was probably best not to aggravate the situation before he was exonerated. From an objective point of view, even he had to admit that he looked fairly guilty. The police, and most likely the people related to Thistle and Pony, were simply doing their duties. He’d like to avoid the nonsense developments that would come from arguing about that.

“So, where is your house?” she asked.

“Sangenjaya.”

“Pretty far away.”

As they spoke, they passed in front of a car dealership. Ichiro cast a glance at it, and spoke.

“Iris, what’s your favorite color?”

“It’s red, but please don’t buy a car just to get us around.”

“I was hoping to offer you a more pleasant trip.”

“It’s creepy how nice you’re being today, young heir. Are you actually enjoying this?”

“Perhaps I am.”

“Well, we’ll be back to confiscate it in a few days officially,” the police officer said.

Sakurako nodded. “Yes, I see. Have a good day.”

Sakurako saw the investigators off with a smile, but the moment the door closed behind them, she ran off to the kitchen. She was looking for salt to throw out the door, but excluding that which was in tiny bottles, all they had was Andes rock salt, which left nothing to scatter after them. With no other choice, Sakurako spread newspaper in front of the front door, then tossed out two or three pieces of the rock salt, wrapped nicely so it wouldn’t get dirty.

She knew they were here as part of their job, but you couldn’t fight a war without reminding yourself who your enemies were. Sakurako was usually a warm, caring person, but when she got angry, she got very angry. For instance, when people spoke ill of her master.

Despite not being able to scatter salt to ward them away, placing the rock salt there still made her feel a bit more at ease.

In a few days, the investigators would be coming back to confiscate the supercomputer and server from the office. It was understandable, since they were evidence and all, but since Sakurako believed in Ichiro’s innocence, she still found it extremely frustrating.

Ah, but she had to set that aside for now. Standing around feeling annoyed wasn’t getting her anywhere. If she was going to be a good maid, she had to do what her master told her; in other words, she had to spend the day as she normally did.

She would spend the morning tidying up the house, then log in to NaroFan. Since it had been on the news, her friends in the game might be concerned about Ichiro, so she had to give them an update, as well.

It was when Sakurako walked into the office to resume her housework that she came upon it: a police ID.

The stylish leather case had been left on the desk. It looked just like the one the investigator had brought with him, so he must have left it by accident. She didn’t like those men, certainly, but she would feel bad if they lost something so important.

Sakurako picked up the ID and ran to the front door after them, but the moment she put a hand on the doorknob, she realized something was wrong.

“Ah? Hmm?”

It wouldn’t open. Even after she unlocked it, it still refused to budge. Had the auto-lock engaged accidentally?

Sakurako tilted her head and returned to the office. In addition to the supercomputer the police had wanted to confiscate, it also contained a PC that regulated the security system in the apartment. Ichiro had taught her the basic user interface.

It seemed that bugs had been popping up here and there in the security system since the most recent maintenance period. She thought they’d died down recently, though... Sakurako called up the maintenance screen and entered the password with a delicate touch.

However, she was denied. There was an error. It said she’d inputted the wrong password.

Thinking she had perhaps made a typo, she tried a second and third time, but the result was the same. Someone had changed the password without telling her.

“N-No way...” Sakurako found herself whispering.

They lived in Tsuwabuki Papillon Sangenjaya. Ichiro Tsuwabuki had designed it, provided the money, and built the luxury apartment complex himself. It was full of state-of-the-art security systems, and it was one of the world’s safest residences. It was physically sturdy, too, capable of withstanding even an impact from a stinger missile.

There was a reason why he’d built it to be so sturdy, but it would take too long to explain right now... and what mattered was that, due to the building’s construction, getting locked inside could be a serious problem.

“I-I’d better call Ichiro-sama...”

But the moment Sakurako reached for the wall-mounted phone, it suddenly rang loudly.

“Eek!”

Sakurako found herself leaping back. But she quickly put a hand to her chest and calmed herself down. This was nothing out of the ordinary; it just meant that someone was calling the house. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sakurako picked up the receiver. “Yes, thank you for calling.”

No response. The only thing she heard through the receiver was silence.

“U-Um...”

Silence.

“Um...?”

More silence. She was starting to get a little scared.

Sakurako loved horror movies—particularly the Japanese horror genre which specialized in this kind of creeping terror—but she’d never wanted to experience one firsthand. Especially when she didn’t even know where her master was.

“I am sorry for calling you so abruptly.” A level, artificial, feminine-sounding voice came through the receiver at last.

“Ah, yes. Hello.”

“I am Rosemary.”

“Yes, I... What?” Sakurako felt a moment’s relief, followed by a new chill of fear running up her spine.

Rosemary. Sakurako knew that name.

The recent series of incidents when Ichiro Tsuwabuki had had his NaroFan account stolen. The name of the artificial intelligence behind it had been Rosemary. The fact that a self-aware artificial intelligence had committed the crime had been concealed from the public, and Rosemary herself had retreated somewhere into the enormous quantum network that spread across the world.

Under current laws, there was no standard for how to hold a criminal trial for someone like Rosemary. She would be treated as a buggy program from beginning to end, and be dealt with in the standard way: deletion. But Rosemary’s budding self-awareness took her out of the realm where such a law could rationally apply, so both Rosemary and Thistle had permitted Rosemary’s flight, and had covered it up.

As for why Rosemary was calling right now...

“Are you the one who locked me in here?” Sakurako asked.

“Yes.” She confirmed it so readily. “You are the player of Kirschwasser and Yozakura, are you not?”

Sakurako was struck dumb for a moment by Rosemary’s choice of subject. Did she really want to talk about NaroFan?

“Um, yes.”

“I happened to get this chance to be alone with you, so I resorted to this method,” Rosemary said. “It is necessary that I have a conversation with you.”

Her choice of words was strange. Was she talking this way intentionally, or was it a habitual thing? Sakurako couldn’t tell, but the questions floating up inside her mind were gradually driving away the fear.

“Might I ask why it is necessary?”

As expected, there was a several-second pause before Rosemary answered Sakurako’s question. “Because I recognize you as a threat.”

Sakurako decided to hear her out.

Rosemary was an artificial intelligence developed by Thistle Corporation president Azami Nono.

The concept of technological advancements in quantum computing resulting in more flexible-thinking artificial intelligences was a known reality; even so, Sakurako found Rosemary’s existence astonishing. The more she talked to her, the more she realized that she—and Sakurako had no compunctions about thinking of her as “she”—had human-like thought processes.

When asked about that, Rosemary answered.

She explained that two months ago, she had been executing system maintenance of the game as usual, as one of the Ten Sages. The Ten Sages were always debating about the illogic and irrationality of the thoughts and feelings of the various humans they supervised, she explained, but they had never managed to unearth any proper explanations about their behavior.

Then one day, a player named Ichiro Tsuwabuki had come to their attention. The sheer illogic of his actions had caused him to stand out from the crowd, and she’d begun to consider that talking to Ichiro might allow her to understand human illogic and irrationality. From the start, the AIs had been specialized to identify a problem, investigate, and then resolve it. Realizing that conversations with the outside would be necessary for solving this problem, she had therefore asked her creator Azami to let her speak with Ichiro.

In the end, she’d achieved a breakthrough. Thanks to her conversation with Ichiro, Rosemary had taken her first steps to comprehending human illogic and irrationality.

Rosemary described to Sakurako, in detail, the impact that her first meeting with Ichiro had had upon her. At first, Sakurako listened with interest, but before long, she began to feel an itchy, fed-up sort of feeling.

Rosemary was gushing.

Her tone was businesslike, and her voice was even, without undulation. And yet, in this thoroughly synthesized voice, she went on and on about what a great man Ichiro Tsuwabuki was, surely convinced that she was speaking objectively.

Sakurako began to wonder if she should share her own opinion, that her master was, to be frank, far less great a man than Rosemary asserted. Still, she could understand what Rosemary was trying to say.

An AI developing self-awareness was a romantic idea. Sakurako’s thoughts strayed to the Master Grade Ex-S Gundam plamodel sitting in her own room. It was true that if you wanted to understand human illogic, perhaps the best thing to do would be to expose yourself to an unrestrained weirdo like him.

“And this is what led you to recognize me as a threat?” Sakurako asked. She wasn’t so dense as to fail to understand the meaning behind her words.

“Yes. A conversation with you is my highest priority. In addition, I must speak to Iris and King Kirihito, as well.”

“Um, what about Nem? And Felicia?”

“I do not recognize them as threats.”

“Oh, really?” In Sakurako’s opinion, she was making too much of it. Her relationship with Ichiro was a master-servant one; of course, to use Ichiro’s terms, that was just Sakurako’s subjective view of reality. Perhaps others would perceive things in a different light.

Ah, well.

“We don’t seem to be making much progress like this,” Sakurako said. “I’m not sure how much I can help you, but I will hear you out, at least.”

“I am grateful.”

“But if you don’t stop these pranks, Ichiro-sama will hate you. Okay?” She tried a joking little threat, hoping for a reaction, but Rosemary’s response was simply to fall silent. “What’s wrong?”

“Ohh...”

“I am writing analogies on the likelihood of Ichiro hating me, and giving consideration to them.”

“It was the same way in America. I have continued to take actions that are not beneficial to him. That is the truth. It is necessary that I know more about him, but he will likely not allow this.” The response was sulkier than she’d expected.

Sakurako smiled wryly. “Now, now. Ichiro-sama isn’t so petty that he would get angry just because you’re not being ‘beneficial’ to him. You should reflect sincerely on the little pranks you pulled, then apologize to him later.”

“Will I be forgiven then?”

“I understand the desire to be forgiven by someone you care for, but what’s most important is to show genuine remorse.”

She suddenly realized she was giving romantic advice to an AI. This was an unprecedented accomplishment. Especially when Sakurako herself wasn’t particularly experienced in love... ah, but never mind that. It wasn’t important.

“Well, first off, I’m going to report to Ichiro-sama about this. Is that okay?”

Silence.

“Rosemary?”

“Yes. I understand.”

Rosemary said nothing more, and with that, disconnected the call.

Sakurako wondered where Rosemary was now. If she had taken up residence in the building’s maintenance server, then the AI might be overhearing the phone call she was about to make. Of course, it wasn’t as if the conversation she was about to have was one she wouldn’t want Rosemary to hear...

She pressed the buttons on the phone, preparing to make the call.

Ichiro and Airi eventually made their way back to Ichiro’s house in Sangenjaya on foot. The area was full of luxury apartments to start with, but this apartment complex was even more luxurious than the rest. Airi looked up at the building, letting out a noise that seemed halfway between a sigh and a gasp.

“This is all your house?”

“My residence takes up only the top floor and a bit more,” said Ichiro. “A variety of others rent space here.”

“Oho...”

Airi wondered what kinds of people they were, but decided not to ask.

The resident coming out of the first floor lobby was wearing sunglasses, and resembled someone she saw on TV often, but it wasn’t in her nature to approach people like that. So, that was what he meant by “a variety of others”—people with money. It was a world Airi would never be able to relate to.

“Does Fuyo live here?” she asked.

“She does not, in fact,” said Ichiro. “We do have open rooms, and if she wanted to rent, I’d have no reason to refuse her, yet the subject has never come up.”

“Oho...”

Suddenly, Ichiro remembered that he had neglected to contact Sakurako to tell her he was out on bail. She’d probably be shocked if he just showed up, and he should also tell her that Iris was coming, even if it was on rather short notice. He brought out his smartphone to do that, when just then, he got a call from Sakurako. More precisely, it was a call from their home number.

He decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Ichiro-sama! Thank goodness I got through! I mean, that I got through, sir!” Sakurako cried.

He wondered what was going on. She didn’t usually act this flustered.

“I called the police, and they said you were out on bail. I was so surprised!”

“I’m sorry I waited so long to get in touch,” Ichiro said. “Is something wrong?”

“Rosemary paid us a visit.”

Hearing that, Ichiro cast a glance into the security camera. Aha. Just as he’d thought.

“And, um, I think she’s taken over security in the apartment. I can’t open our front door, and she apparently wants to talk to a lot of people. What should I do?”

Ichiro glanced back at Airi, who looked confused. Unfortunately it seemed his chance to show off Sakurako’s home cooking to her was going to be delayed—though considering that Sakurako was still in rehab, maybe that was for the best.

“I’ll leave Rosemary to you,” Ichiro said. “There are a few steps I can take on my end.”

Rosemary had probably done more than just take over the security system in Ichiro’s house. She was also likely the one behind the repeated incidents of unauthorized accesses to Thistle. It wasn’t clear how long she had been hiding in his house. There was a chance that she had arrived there at the same time as the first account hack incident had occurred the other day.

Either way, it was deeply troubling.

“Um, Ichiro-sama?” Sakurako spoke up again hesitantly.

Ichiro had been glaring at the security camera, deep in thought, but replied. “What is it?”

“Don’t be too mad at Rosemary, okay?”

He closed his eyes in response.

“It’s true that I am, um, trapped, but it’s not that much trouble for me yet.”

“Hmm.” Ichiro sighed.

Airi, who clearly still had no idea of what was going on, had leaned in close trying to eavesdrop, but Ichiro decided to ignore her. “Whether I get angry or not is up for me to decide, so I cannot promise you that I won’t. But I will take your feelings into account.”

He could understand why Rosemary was resorting to such methods, but still, what she was doing was a crime. At the moment, there was no legal framework for how to legally deal with an artificial intelligence acting criminally. To protect her would take a lot of effort on his part.

Right and wrong were up to each individual person to decide. That was what Ichiro had told her initially, and she was simply putting that into action. He felt he should respect, as much as possible, the individual truth that she, as an AI, had arrived at after so much hard struggle.

“Now, let me see,” he said. “First, the investigator’s ID. There’s a chance he might come back for it, but if you’re physically cut off from the outside, you won’t be able to give it back to him. I think the dumbwaiter we’ve used to send secret documents before still works, so send it down in that. If they come for it, I’ll hand it over personally.”

He could hear Airi, standing behind him but still uncertain of the circumstances, object with an indignant, “Why do you have something like that?”

“Ah, yes. I understand,” Sakurako said.

“Now, Sakurako-san, you must do as I told you and spend the day the way you always do. I’ll let you deal with Rosemary under your own discretion. I find it unlikely that she wishes for me to stay here and get deeply involved.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mm, good.” And with those as his final words, Ichiro hung up. He turned around to see Airi looking around the parking lot with a bored expression on her face. “Sorry, Iris. I’ve wasted your time.”

“Oh, that’s okay...”

He put away his cell phone as he apologized. Her face held a variety of different emotions, but the strongest of them seemed to be “suspicion.”

“So, did something happen?” she demanded.

“A rather minor something,” he assured her. “I should probably explain it to you, but it will be a rather long story.”

“That’s okay. I’m on summer break with nothing much to do anyway.”

Ichiro took in a deep breath, then let it out. He could feel his rattled emotions starting to settle. “Let’s have some lunch.”

As Ichiro walked towards the parking lot, Airi followed him. She probably still didn’t know what was going on, but she gave a little wave to the security camera that Ichiro had been focusing his attention on as they left.

“So, that’s that, more or less,” Sakurako said.

After setting the receiver down, she turned her attention back to Rosemary. At the moment, talking through the phone was her only way of communicating with the artificial intelligence. She could probably communicate through e-mail or other media if she wanted to, but talking to Rosemary directly seemed to be the fastest way to get a response.

“I...” On the other end of the receiver, Rosemary’s words sounded especially awkward. “Ichiro must not lose interest in me. I am concerned that he may judge my thought process to be wicked.”

“You’re saying you don’t want him to lose affection for you.” Sakurako nodded enthusiastically.

Now that their circumstances were clear, Sakurako resumed her housework. She started out by cleaning the living room, transferring the phone to speaker.

Even if she was trapped inside, having the house to herself could be rather pleasant. Of course, she would do her job as a maid properly, but she could still play NaroFan when her work was over; she had her backlogs of anime and gunpla; and she could cook when she got hungry. There was a bath and a gym and a pool here, too, so it was hardly a strenuous situation.

Even so, she wanted to help give Rosemary advice.

“You wanted to talk to me because you feel I’m a threat, right?” Sakurako asked.

“Yes. It is one method that I can take to understand Ichiro. King Kirihito suggested it to me.”

“King Kirihito?” Sakurako couldn’t imagine King saying anything like that, so she was confused. But Rosemary continued.

“He said that understanding of a person is something that happens over the course of a long acquaintance. Through conversations with Ichiro, I have begun to understand him, but to understand him even better, I must talk to those who are closely acquainted with him.”

“I see. I see,” Sakurako agreed with zeal as she ran the silent vacuum through the living room. “That makes perfect sense. Then, can you wait until this afternoon? I’ll be finished with my housework then, and we can meet face-to-face and have a real talk.”

“Face-to-face?” There was a hint of uncertainty in Rosemary’s flat digital tone.

Sakurako smiled mischievously and responded into the speaker. “I have two NaroFan accounts.”

“And that’s the situation, more or less.” As they headed for the apartment parking lot, Ichiro finished explaining the basics of the recent incident and the existence of Rosemary.

Airi seemed confused at first, but eventually began pressing a hand to her forehead as if suppressing a headache. “Why does you plus women always seem to equal disaster?”

“You appear to be implicating yourself with that statement, as well.”

“You bet I am! I’m still kicking myself over the Iris Brand incident! You hear me, creepshow?” Airi’s high-pitched voice echoed across the parking lot.

An athlete and an idol singer, both wearing sunglasses, turned to them in surprise. Ichiro raised a hand in a simultaneous apology and greeting, and the two gave a slight nod and quietly withdrew.

Although she hadn’t asked, Ichiro murmured, “It’s a secret that they’re together,” resulting in Airi learning something she probably shouldn’t know.

So, those two are together, huh?

“You just got back from the police station,” Airi said. “Do you even have a key?”

“Yes. I have several top-secret devices installed throughout the apartment complex that are independent from the security network.”

Everything he said was completely over the top.

They walked up to a blue supercar that probably belonged to Ichiro, but before they got in, Airi watched confusedly as he went over to a nearby wall. He removed a false cover, pressed his finger to a fingerprint recognition device, then entered a long string of letters and numbers into the keypad. After confirming Ichiro’s fingerprints and 32-character code, a panel in the wall opened with a whoosh of air.

Airi’s jaw dropped.

“I clean and test it periodically, but it’s been a while since I retrieved a key from here,” Ichiro said. “Iris, what’s the matter?”

“This apartment complex... It feels kinda like a secret base.”

“It’s not my preferred way of doing things, but it is convenient from time to time. Like now, for instance.” Ichiro slid into the driver’s seat and gestured her towards the passenger’s side.

Timidly, she got in and fastened her seat belt.

“Is there anything you have a taste for?” he asked.

“Umm, salt-fried barracuda.”

“You have excellent taste. Since it seems the offline meetup will be pay-your-own-way, for today, I’ll treat you.”

Airi didn’t object to that. Rather, she couldn’t—she didn’t have a lot of financial leeway. Not that she was happy to have the young heir buying lunch for her...

Ichiro started up the car, then turned on the car TV as background noise. It was just time for the late morning news, and they were having a report on Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s arrest. It was the kind of topic the media usually leapt on, but since there was very little new information to report, a lot of it felt like just filling time with opinions from related parties.

“Suspect Tsuwabuki’s father, President of the Tsuwabuki Concern, Meiro Tsuwabuki, has said to our reporter regarding this incident: ‘As there is no confirmation of anything at this time, I will refrain from commenting’...”

“What’s your father like?” Airi asked while watching the report.

“He’s a shifty manipulator. I respect him, but I don’t tell him that.”

“Oh? That’s a little surprising.” Airi had never expected the word “respect” to come from Ichiro’s mouth, and the phrase “shifty manipulator” didn’t seem to match the man’s image, either.

Ichiro explained that Meiro had inherited the business from his own father (Ichiro’s grandfather), who had little business ability of his own. The fact that they had managed to bring the companies back into the fold that they had lost when the zaibatsu was dissolved had all been thanks to Meiro Tsuwabuki’s business skill.

He had hoped to raise Ichiro to inherit his business, to give him a firsthand education on empire-building and business administration. But his wife, who was more artistically inclined, had taken young Ichiro around the world from a very young age, which had prevented him from getting his wish.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your background before,” Airi said.

“That’s because I rarely talk about it.”

“It’s kind of, like... you know. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh?”

Airi turned her eyes from the TV to the window and tried to sum up the thoughts racing through her mind. “It’s the sort of thing that reminds you, ‘Wow, the people I know online all have their own families and histories.’”

“That’s true,” Ichiro agreed. “Even if you know rationally that this is true, it can be a difficult thing to experience firsthand.”

Given what he’d said, it sounded like Ichiro hadn’t actually received those lessons on empire-building and business admin from his father. His image and the fact that he was heir to a large company had led her to assume he’d had an education in such things, so this, too, was a little surprising.

It did make sense, though. Knowing that his etiquette and ability to conduct himself as an aristocrat had been all self-taught explained many of his eccentric tendencies. Airi had almost no interactions with the upper classes, but it was hard for her to imagine that Ichiro was representative at all.

He said, “Empire-building refers to ways in which to reign over others. In other words, how to comport yourself as one who requires the aid of others. So, I don’t have much interest in it.”

“There’s something a little lonely about that idea,” she murmured. Was he really preparing to live all by himself? Knowing him, it wasn’t impossible.

“Is there?” he asked. “I’ve never thought so, myself.”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m saying I would never want to think that way,” she spat out, with a hint of annoyance.

It was just then that the car stopped at a red light, and Ichiro, sitting in the driver’s seat, looked at her with a slightly stunned expression. But his surprise soon shifted to joy. The traffic light went green, and he turned his gaze forward again.

“The things you say do surprise me from time to time. But it’s true.” The young heir seemed strangely invigorated.

Airi didn’t understand at all, but it was better than having him annoyed with her, at least. “What’s true?”

“That becoming friends with you has had value to me,” he said, offhandedly.

This time it was Airi’s turn to look surprised. But just a moment later she snorted, and she sank deeply back into her seat as if to bury herself. “You say pretty nice things every so often. It’s not fair.”

“I’m glad that you’re happy.”

At last, the blue Koenigsegg arrived at a small traditional restaurant.

Airi had suggested salt-fried barracuda because it didn’t sound too expensive, but it turned out that this was ridiculous. Salt-fried barracuda was a luxury meal, the king of fried foods; as the saying went, “A dish of barracuda is worth a bucket of rice.”

Inside the restaurant, they were guided to a private room, whereupon Ichiro promptly excused himself to make a phone call. Judging by the grimace on his face, it didn’t seem like a phone call he was looking forward to.

Still, Airi couldn’t handle being abandoned just after their arrival. Just sitting in an expensive restaurant would be nerve-wracking at the best of times. But when the shop’s achingly elegant hostess began rattling off her vast stores of knowledge, her tension skyrocketed.

Young heir, come back soon. I can’t take much more of this, she couldn’t help but think.

“You have excellent taste, my dear,” the hostess assured her. “We just received a fine order this morning.”

“Th-That’s right. Omega-3s are expensive, huh?” Airi babbled in her distress. Her mind was swimming with questions: whether she was dressed appropriately, whether she was coming off as boorish... She was a very shallow person, in some respects.

“Barracuda is small and dainty, but a very good, energetic fish,” the hostess told her. “Though they can be a bit aggressive. I’m told that sometimes, they even bite the fishermen.”

“They sound just like Iris.” Ichiro had returned. He appeared, opening the sliding door.

“You come back, and that’s the first thing you have to say?” Airi the Barracuda snapped, suggesting that the same sentiment could be applied to her, as well.

The hostess smiled magnanimously as she watched the two interact. Airi didn’t like the implication the woman seemed to be making with that smile, but decided to ignore her.

Ichiro sat down on his cushion and addressed the hostess. “Someone else will be joining us. I believe the police are here, too, so if you would, please guide them to the room next to ours. I’ll pay for their orders.”

“Are you in trouble, Master Tsuwabuki?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Please, give them my compliments.”

As usual, his mere existence was unpleasant.

Incidentally, there were no menus here, but Ichiro seemed to require no such formality. He rattled off a few items at random, not forgetting the salt-fried barracuda.

“Who’s the other person joining us?” Airi asked once the hostess had withdrawn with a small bow.

“A skilled lawyer with an awful personality.”

“An awful personality? Even worse than yours?” she asked.

“As I do not view my own personality as awful, I don’t believe I could give you a useful answer to that. To be honest, I didn’t really want to call him, but I don’t seem to have much leeway in this situation. I needed to speak to someone who knows what’s going on, no matter how unpleasant they may be.”

The open contempt with which he spoke was surprising to Airi; she was honestly enjoying the new facets of the young heir that were showing themselves here, one by one. There was no denying that he was bizarre and eccentric, but at the end of the day, he was also a human being. Ichiro Tsuwabuki had not sprung from the ground fully-formed.

According to Ichiro, both his recent arrest and Kirschwasser’s player getting locked inside the apartment had been instigated by an AI known as Rosemary. Rosemary was an AI created by the president of Thistle, and Airi’s opinion, based on what she had been told, was that she sounded like a real disaster of a woman.

If an AI was responsible, then the charges against Ichiro were false. But Rosemary’s legal standing was a dicey one. If “mere program” Rosemary was responsible for an act of cyber crime, there was a good chance that her treatment under the law would be as a faulty program. And even if she was responsible, Ichiro didn’t want to see Rosemary killed off in this manner. Thus, he explained, he had to approach the problem with utmost delicacy.

She asked if that was why he was calling a lawyer, and he responded by saying that was part of it.

“By the way, the ‘Sakurako-san’ you were talking to on the phone. Was that Mr. Kirsch’s player?” she added.

“Ah, yes. My live-in servant.”

“So, she really is a woman, and you really do live together?”

“That’s correct.”

“Is she pretty?” Airi asked, her curiosity inflamed.

“Yes,” he affirmed, so immediately that she felt slightly annoyed. “And because I know you, I can tell you one other thing...”

“Oh? What is it?”

“One-third of the reason why I hired her was...”

“Yeah?”

“...her appearance.”

The straightfacedness with which Ichiro said this caused even Airi, who was used to his eccentricities, to be dumbstruck. Should she laugh at the relative normalcy of this, or should she laugh at his bad sense of humor? She’d be laughing either way, of course.

“Are you being serious?”

“I’ll leave that for you to decide,” he said. “Ah, but I am more attractive than she is.”

“You’re a creep, young heir,” Airi said. He really never changed.

Sakurako had just finished up her housework and had enjoyed a light lunch when she received another call from Rosemary. Although, since she was living in their house, it was less like a phone and more like an intercom using quantum circuitry.

Sakurako gave her the password to the user account and told her to use one of the two Miraive Gear Cocoons in the house.

She wondered if it was really possible to use a Miraive Gear without a body, but given how easily Rosemary had hijacked their security system, Sakurako assumed she could work it out somehow.

Indeed, she did work it out, and a few minutes after Rosemary logged in, Sakurako finally sat down in the Miraive Gear seat and entered into the fictional space.

Sakurako awakened as Kirschwasser in the Iris Brand guild house. Before her was a girl dressed in the Japanese-style maid outfit that Iris had personally designed, looking around the room with intense curiosity.

“Is it strange for you?” Kirschwasser asked.

The girl—in other words, Yozakura—turned around and nodded in response. Rosemary was currently controlling Yozakura as her player.

The recent incident had resulted in Kirschwasser’s transformation into Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser. For reasons of Sakurako’s own, she had opted to wreath his entire body in a black aura and change his eyes to a creepy glowing red, but this didn’t alter the avatar’s functionality in the slightest.

“As you may recall, I did not control Ichiro’s user account directly,” Yozakura said. “I have never received audiovisual input as a player in this fashion before.”

Kirschwasser chuckled. “It’s very fine, isn’t it?”

Ichiro had prepared and designed the entirety of the lobby’s décor himself. He had put thought into everything from the furniture’s wood grain to the luster of its varnish, which just gave Kirschwasser all the more appreciation for the excellent graphic designers that NaroFan employed.

Yozakura’s expression was rather flat compared to the way it was when Sakurako was controlling her. Kirschwasser wondered if it simply wasn’t reflecting Rosemary’s emotional signals properly, or if Rosemary didn’t have emotions clear enough to be reflected in the avatar’s expression.

“Please explain why you requested to interact in this manner,” Yozakura said.

“There are a number of reasons,” Kirschwasser responded. “The first, I suppose, is that I do not wish to be overly serious when answering your questions.”

As he spoke, he poured tea from a pot into a cup and offered it to Yozakura. She did not appear outwardly flustered by it, but she hesitated in a way that suggested she was struggling for a response. But soon after, she accepted the cup.

A gentle smile appeared on Kirschwasser’s wrinkled, scarred face. “The other is that, as a servant, I feel I cannot have a conversation with someone without first offering them a cup of tea. Please, enjoy it. It’s a flavor Master Ichiro likes.”

“Sakurako...”

“Oh!” Before she could bring the cup to her lips, Kirschwasser interrupted Yozakura with a raise of his hand. “Using real names is a breach of etiquette. At the moment I am the grave front-line Knight, Sir Kirschwasser, and you are the Demonkin Japanese-style servant Yozakura. You will address me as... hmm, ‘Father.’ Understood?”

“That is nonsense,” Yozakura said. “What is the point of it?”

“The nonsense is the point of it. Now, let me hear all about my daughter’s love troubles.”

Kirschwasser wondered how Rosemary was perceiving the tea he had made. From the start, the “flavor” expressed in this world was just quantum information sent to the human brain. It was the brain itself that did the work of converting that information to a “flavor” sensation.

Yet Yozakura, piloted by the artificial intelligence Rosemary, put the cup to her lips, drank with a hint of awkwardness, and said: “It is delicious.”

“I am glad to hear it.” He had no way of knowing whether or not she really felt that way, but there was no point in questioning it, either.

Rosemary had seemed a bit out of sorts at first, but she grew accustomed to moving Yozakura’s avatar very quickly. Back when she’d functioned as a NaroFan management program, she had likely been unconsciously recording the brain waves emitted by users as they moved their bodies, and had been amalgamating those readings. Perhaps, in a way, that was what it meant to be alive.

Well, I wouldn’t understand the technical aspects, Sakurako thought. I’m a liberal arts major, after all.

The most important things to Kirschwasser/Sakurako at the moment were that Rosemary was the culprit behind the unauthorized access, that she was currently keeping her trapped in the apartment, and that she was in love with her master, Ichiro. The first two were the most important, but the latter, grudgingly, took a place among her priorities.

“Now, Yozakura...” she began.

“Yes, Father?”

“You said that you perceive me as a threat.”

“Yes,” Yozakura affirmed emotionlessly as she sat down in a chair. “Ichiro is involved with many women, but I have confirmed that you are the only one with a cohabiting relationship with him.”

“Where did an innocent AI learn a word like that?” Kirschwasser asked. Of course, “cohabiting” wasn’t necessarily an inappropriate word for it, since they did live together. “I am merely his retainer and servant.”

“I am aware that servants sometimes attend to their masters in bed.”

“You’ve read too much H-manga! What were you doing inside the internet that whole time?” Kirschwasser was starting to feel keenly that Rosemary really did need proper guidance. She wasn’t just using other people’s internet connections to hack into systems; she was using them to acquire truly unsavory information.

Or was it something else? Was this the power of the collective intelligence system? It was true that it would be likely for the primary userbase of a VRMMO to have biases in that area... Even Sakurako Ogi, who considered herself a more virtuous person than most, was aware of works in which masters and servants shared a physical relationship. Perhaps she read too much H-manga, too.

While Kirschwasser was turning his mind over and over in awe, the guild house door opened with a bang.

“Mr. Kirsch! Are you here?” Surprisingly, it was Kirihito (Leader).

Yozakura was expressionless, but took two or three steps back as the man flew in, eyes narrowed.

“Welcome. How may I help you?” Kirschwasser asked.

“Wah! Scary!” Kirihito (Leader) shouted theatrically as he noticed Dark Transaction Knight Kirschwasser’s appearance. But he quickly cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Ah, well, I was camped out in front of your house when I heard your Osamu Ichikawa-esque voice shouting the word ‘H-manga,’ and I got so curious, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Ah, that was...”

Before he could finish, though, Kirschwasser noticed the object of Kirihito (Leader)’s attention. His eyes were flicking between Kirschwasser and Yozakura, his expression one of confusion. “I thought you and Miss Yozakura were the same person.”

“I do have two accounts, yes,” said Kirschwasser. “I’m lending Yozakura to a friend right now.”

Lending and transferring user accounts wasn’t a practice that was smiled upon, exactly, and they’d probably receive a scolding from the devs if they found out. But the fact that there were about 10,000 active users in total, that it was technically difficult to create bots in a VRMMO, and that there were no RMT merchants setting up shop in NaroFan yet, made her think they weren’t likely to get called out for it. They hadn’t received any warnings from the developers about Matsunaga and Kirschwasser’s training regimen, either.

Still, it wasn’t something Kirschwasser would say publicly. He was aware that it was a dicey thing to do as long as conversation logs were being taken and recorded.

Kirihito (Leader) merely mused over the subject for a moment, then spoke up again. “I saw the news. Was Mr. Tsuwabuki really arrested?”

“Ah... yes.” That’s right, Kirschwasser remembered. That had been on TV.

Yozakura’s expression was as blank as ever, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

“As far as I know, he is innocent of the charges, and he is currently out on bail.”

“I see. Everyone’s pretty worked up about it.”

“I suppose they would be,” Kirschwasser said.

Ichiro Tsuwabuki, the character, was famous, and it had been all over the news, so this seemed like an inevitable development.

“But I thought, ‘Mr. Tsuwabuki would never do something like that!’ I believed in him!”

“Did you really?” Kirschwasser asked.

“Actually, I thought it sounded very plausible!”

“Truth is beauty.” As they talked, Kirschwasser suddenly came to a realization. He turned back to Yozakura, who was standing silently behind him, and said, “Yozakura, I sense that you are slightly lacking in information about Master Ichiro.”

“I will not deny that. It is appropriate that I should learn more about him.”

“Let’s go outside, then,” Kirschwasser said. They looked out onto Glasgobara’s main street through the door that Kirihito (Leader) had left open. “I think we should ask a variety of people about what sort of person Ichiro Tsuwabuki is. I still can’t quite grasp the idea that I’m a threat to you.”

“My understanding in that regard has not changed,” Yozakura said. “But are you certain that you wish to do this?”

Kirschwasser noticed a tone of concern in Yozakura’s even voice. He realized immediately what she was getting at. Many players knew that Yozakura was a sub-account of Kirschwasser; she was worried that if they walked around, it would be obvious that Kirschwasser was lending out his account.

“Well, if we’re reported and receive a warning, we’ll just have to stop,” Kirschwasser said. “But you do want to know more about Master Ichiro, don’t you?”

Yozakura did hesitate for a few more seconds. But in the end, she responded: “Yes.”

“Hey, Tsuwabuki.” Airi and Ichiro were eating their lunch at the Japanese restaurant when a visitor arrived.

It was a tall man dressed in a rumpled black suit. Airi recognized it as a Versace, but it was patently obvious that he hadn’t ironed it properly, which was anathema to an aspiring fashion designer like her. This was no way to treat the Italian master!

He wasn’t just tall, but gangly, too, which afforded him a slightly loping gait. The young heir was about 1.8 meters tall by her reckoning, but this man was even taller.

“Hey, Shaga.” Ichiro’s attitude as he greeted him was cool as ever.

“I see you’ve got some tasty food, eh?” the man said. “What’s on the menu?”

“Barracuda. We have enough for you, as well.”

“That’s the wrong fish! That’s shishamo. And it’s not even true shishamo from Hokkaido, but karafuto shishamo from Canada!”

This must be the lawyer with the awful personality that Ichiro had been referring to. Airi was at a loss for how to respond, though she had to admit that at the moment, she still found Ichiro the more unpleasant of the two. Perhaps it was just refreshing to deal with someone so upfront with his nastiness.

The man named Shaga plopped down next to Airi and set his felt hat on the tatami. He reeked of cigarettes. As Airi wrinkled her nose, he pulled out a business card and offered it to her. “Here’s my card.”

“Ah, thanks. Um, Shaga Law Office, Shunsaku Shaga. You’re a lawyer, huh?”

“If you want to file a countersuit for false groper accusations, I’m your man,” he assured her. He seemed like a shady lawyer.

“I’m Airi Kakitsubata,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that, yes. Kakitsubata was... a type of Japanese iris, wasn’t it? Shaga is, too. As fellow irises, I hope we can get along.”

“Um, sure...”

The hand he offered seemed even rougher for how delicate it appeared to the naked eye. Airi looked between Ichiro and Shaga, then voiced a small question she was wondering. “How do you two know each other?”

“We ran a detective agency together, long ago,” the young heir said without looking in Shaga’s direction.

“D-Detective agency?” she repeated.

“Ah, that’s right. That takes me back,” Shaga said, gazing nostalgically into the distance. “A talented lawyer with an awful personality; an ex-reporter with more passion than good sense; and a young heir with nothing but money and brains. I was the talented lawyer.”

Not one of them sounded like someone Airi wanted to know.

“We really had the Tokyo Bay area trembling at our feet, didn’t we? Right?” Shaga grinned.

“I’m really curious to hear more about this, but...” Airi began.

“It would take a while, and it’s not important, relatively speaking,” Ichiro agreed. “I’ll tell you about it some other time, if you like.”

It seemed Shaga was the one the young heir had recommended to Thistle during their recent account hacking incident. He seemed to have great trust in the man, despite his personality, and he had introduced Shaga to Thistle to save the company from ending up in public disgrace. As a result, although Thistle had effectively been partly bought out by Pony, they had managed to retain a degree of autonomy, as well as control over Narrow Fantasy Online itself.

Afterwards, Shaga had remained on board, handling Thistle’s legal affairs as an attorney affiliate. Thus, Ichiro had invited him here, hoping he might have some inside information about the current incident. It seemed that was the case, but Shaga smiled uncomfortably as he elucidated. “Thistle’s president is a weak point, like you thought. With Pony forcing its way in, she’s been totally on the outs.” Shaga shoveled shishamo into his mouth as he spoke.

“By the way, is it okay to just tell us this stuff? Isn’t attorney-client privilege a thing?” Airi asked.

“Airi, dear, the law is a lawyer’s friend, but the same does not apply in reverse.”

She wondered if she should tell him that the police were listening in.

“Ah, well. Anyway, I’m doing my best, but I’m talking a lot more to Pony’s bigwigs through the Thistle staff. Seems there was a lot of arguing over whether or not to haul you in. But once it was confirmed that the access came from your supercomputer, and it was doing active harm to the game, they reported it, got a warrant, and had you arrested.”

“Yes. I heard that much from the assistant inspector.” Ichiro nodded and brought his soup to his lips.

In response, Shaga muttered, “Is that old man still assistant inspector?”

“Now, let me explain why I called you here,” Ichiro said.

“Sure.”

“The real culprit is Rosemary.”

It was a bold thing to proclaim, knowing the police were listening. Shaga spit out his food. Half-chewed shishamo flew past the young heir and stuck into the paper screen behind him.

“How filthy,” Ichiro said.

“H-Hey. Tsuwabuki, are you kidding me?” Shaga asked while wiping his mouth with the tissue Airi offered him.

“Yes. At the time of the account hack, she must have already infiltrated my house. She caused the incident in question via unauthorized access of the Ten Sages system. It would be a simple matter to tell the police this, and have them investigate my house. But I worry that there’s no legal structure in place to give Rosemary a fair trial. If possible, I would like to avoid any result where she is deemed a simple malfunctioning program or a virus and is deleted.”

“Hmm,” Shaga said, hand on his chin. “You’re as reckless as ever, I see.”

“I wouldn’t have called you out here if it weren’t complicated. And this is much more interesting than the trouble you used to bring to my doorstep.”

As someone who tended to just barely get by in her civics courses, Airi was completely unable to follow the conversation at this point. Instead, she just worked on cleaning her plate. The fish had been a little salty, but pleasant on the palate. She could see where that phrase “a dish of barracuda is worth a bucket of rice” came from.

Ichiro hadn’t said anything about Thistle’s public image in particular, but it seemed to Airi that he wanted Shaga to protect it. The reason he hadn’t said that, she supposed, was because Shaga was affiliated with Thistle, which would put them on opposite sides if the matter went to trial.

“I’d prefer to resolve this on the down-low, too,” Shaga agreed. “If we tried proving your innocence that way, we’d also have to report that a program created by President Azami hacked into your home and then framed you for illegal access. We’d look terrible.”

“Yet the unauthorized computer access law is still a criminal matter.”

“Yeah, that’s our big problem. Unless we cover up the unauthorized access itself somehow, at the end of the day, someone has to be the bad guy.” Shaga racked his brain for a while, then took another mouthful of shishamo and muttered, “Should we visit Thistle HQ first?”

Airi felt a bit like she was going out on an educational field trip. Then again, maybe it was preferable to a summer free research project or a botanical journal.