Chapter 17: The Blog

Around 9:30 PM, two men sat in the night shift prep room of Ootsuki General Hospital in Japan.

“What? You’re looking at a case when the night shift’s about to start? It’s good to be studious and all, but you might get a patient at any moment, so you should find some time to rest. It’s part of your job.”

Shuhei Nishimura, head of the internal medicine department, lightly tapped the shoulder of Yuta Ishii, an intern intensely comparing a medical photograph and the contents of a textbook.

“Ah, Mr. Nishimura. Actually, someone I know is looking after a sick child, and they sent this photo my way.”

Shuhei slapped the back of Yuta’s head. “That’s not the kind of joke you make in a hospital. It’s in poor taste!”

“Huh?”

“There’s no way that’s real. You don’t know this disease?” He gestured to the photo, which showed part of a small child’s body. “We’re in Japan. There’s no way you’d find a patient in that state who’s not being properly cared for.”

Shuhei half-laughed as he spoke, but Yuta was completely serious.

“What disease is it, then?”

“Telling you won’t teach you a thing.”

“Please! I mean, look.” Yuta pointed to a manga magazine in the bottom-left corner of the image. “This magazine is from yesterday.”

“Come with me!” Shuhei’s expression changed as he grabbed the intern by the arm and pulled him into his office.

“What’s going on here?! Explain!”

Normally, Shuhei’s menacing attitude would have terrified Yuta, but this time was different.

“It’s from a blog, okay? It was posted on a blog I like to read. The blogger wants to know about the symptoms, and they included a new magazine as proof that this is real.”

“Show me with this, then,” said Shuhei, handing Yuta one of his personal devices. “It’s completely detached from the hospital’s shared network. I only use it to keep records and email suppliers and researchers. It’s even got anti-virus. Just don’t think too hard and use it!”

Yuta took it from him, opened a browser, and filled the search field with the usual keywords.

“So, about that disease...” Shuhei added, looking at the screen. “It’s anthrax.”

The blog finally loaded. It was titled, “Help Me Out: Running Your Land as a Viscount”.

What a tasteless title, thought Shuhei. “Viscount”? Really?

“Where are the photos?” he asked.

Yuta clicked the red, flickering “Emergencies” section of the blog’s “Consultation Corner” and opened up the page. It contained a photo of a child’s skin, flushed with a wide, acne-like rash and marred by a black scab. The description read, “Other symptoms: high temperature, coughing, trouble breathing”, and the newest update was just two hours ago.

Shuhei’s mood darkened. Damn it! If this is a joke, someone’s getting punched!

“Can we contact the blogger?”

“Yes, provided they’re in front of a PC and either waiting for new emails or using an alert software. You don’t get replies if you don’t give them your own email address. Personally, I only comment on the blog. I haven’t given out my email yet, since I didn’t want my info to get leaked or something.”

“Do it. Use this address. Hurry! I’ll write the message.”

The reply came in no time.

“Everything written here is true. I’ll come right away, so please tell me where you are. And have the medicine ready. —Viscount”

“‘Right away’? We don’t even know what prefecture this guy’s from.”

Grumbling, Shuhei wrote down his address and the name of the hospital.

Another instant reply.

“I have your location. I will be at the front desk of the ER in five minutes. Please tell me how to administer the medicine.”

“What? Five minutes?! How is that even—”

I’m being fooled, aren’t I?! But if I’m not...

“Crap, crap, crap! Ishii, get some penicillin and tetracycline! Right now!”

This has to be a lie. Someone’s just messing with me. I know that. But if another child is in danger...

“What are you waiting for? Go!”

Yuta ran off as fast as he could—much faster than you should ever run inside a hospital.

Seven minutes later, he and Shuhei arrived at the ER, panting.

A girl stood waiting for them.

“I am Viscountess Mitsuha von Yamano,” she said.

If she could get here that fast, then the patient had to be close by too. Is this a miracle or a coincidence?! Shuhei thought.

However, when he asked the girl to take him to the child, she stubbornly shook her head.

“Don’t be absurd! The patient’s life is in danger! It’s a race against time! And I can’t give medicine to a layman without seeing the patient. Unauthorized injections are against the law!”

“Don’t worry about that. This is beyond Japanese law.”

“What?”

The girl refused to yield, insisting he tell her the amount of medicine to use and how to administer it. She clearly had no relevant knowledge.

Can’t expect much from a middle schooler.

After a few minutes of arguing, the girl claiming to be “Mitsuha” noticed tears in Shuhei’s eyes. She took a deep breath, righting herself.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“I can.”

“And you swear on...?”

“Myself?”

“Okay. Let’s go together.”

A moment later, the three of them vanished, leaving only a quiet whoosh as air filled the space they left behind.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Where are we?” Shuhei asked.

I was just in the hospital, wasn’t I? Did someone bring me here while I was unconscious? But I’m still standing, and Ishii and the girl are with me.

“This way,” said the girl.

Shuhei stopped thinking. This was the time for doing. He grasped the medical bag in his hand.

They followed her as she led them to a shabby-looking house. Inside, there was a worn bed and a little girl sleeping within it. There was also a woman sitting on a nearby chair, her top half resting on the girl’s bed. Shuhei assumed she was the girl’s mother, exhausted from looking after her child.

“Ishii, let’s go!”

I’ll save her. I won’t let this one die.

◇ ◇ ◇

Some part of him still believed that the prior events had all been a dream. Shuhei moved the cursor on his computer and clicked.

“Help Me Out: Running Your Land as a Viscount”

Click.

There were no flickering sections.

“Disease Consultation”

Click.

“My body is heavy and I run out of breath quickly. —Boris the meat vendor”

Shuhei scoffed. This guy again? I’ll bite.

“Eat less. Move more. Run. —McCoy”

He’s way too fat. I thought it was a disease at first, but the guy weighs almost three hundred pounds, goddamn it. Says he eats orc meat, too. That’s practically cannibalism.

Shuhei went back two pages and saw the topic he’d clicked on dozens of times by now.

Click.

“Gratitude Corner”

“She’s slowly recovering. Thank you very much.”

The post contained a photo of a little girl.

I’ll just go back to work. Ah. But first, one quick comment on the “I Caught Something Straight Out of the Cambrian Period” post. The cooking method I thought of last night will be perfect for it, I’m sure!

◇ ◇ ◇

Mitsuha had set up a blog. It was called, “Help Me Out: Running Your Land as a Viscount”.

Like the title says, it’s a blog I use to get help from all the nerds—I mean, people who are knowledgeable about area management who’d never get to use their knowledge otherwise.

No matter how much Mitsuha knew, there was a limit to how much an eighteen-year-old like herself could do. She could use the internet, of course, but in her opinion, relying on text-based information of questionable validity was too risky, and no amount of mere knowledge could replace actual experience.

And though you could search the internet endlessly, it didn’t mean much if you hadn’t the faintest idea of what to look for. How would one search for something you didn’t know the name of, or if it was even real, for that matter? This line of thinking had led her to create this blog. It was a site where visitors would help a new viscountess in another world run her land.

Nerds—I mean, smart guys will definitely wanna flaunt their stuff and give just the right advice. I’ll use their words as hints, confirm their validity myself, and put it to use in the other world. It’s perfect!

Naturally, everyone thought it was just an act—a joke blog just for the heck of it—so you wouldn’t find a single person who believed it was real. However, since many people took fantasy settings and simulation games very seriously, you could expect some really productive answers. Playfulness brought sincerity.

You can’t have any real fun in video games if you just take it easy!

Recently, Mitsuha had been thinking of bringing some of the more productive blog regulars to her territory. Four of them were particularly smart, sincere, and friendly. She hadn’t leaked a single piece of personal information, and even if they went on to say that they had been in another world, no one would believe them. It was absurd to begin with, and the existence of the “joke” blog made it even less believable.

The four also weren’t the kind of people who would risk being branded insane and losing the trust of those around them. They seemed like the sort who would keep her secrets if she simply asked them to. Even if they weren’t, Mitsuha just had to forbid them from taking photos or objects with them as proof, then ban them from the blog.

Wondering why I’d need to show them the other world? Because I’m starting to want people who’ll help me out on a deeper level. I need something beyond the online act—help that’ll take actual time and effort. I’ll think of rewards for them too. I’ll have to do it on the next three-day weekend.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Too bad, that’s just fools gold! No jackpot for you! Maybe you’ll win next week if there’s a rollover!”

A man left that disappointing comment in the “Mining Help” section, on a post entitled, “I Found Something That Looks Like Gold!”

Leave mining and forestry to me! he thought.

A while ago, he had discovered this strange blog, “Help Me Out: Running Your Land as a Viscount”. The site description simply read: “I suddenly became a viscount and now have to manage a territory. Please help me out!” To this man, it seemed to be an imaginative teenage girl’s fictional diary about the complexities of ruling her domain. It covered such subjects as rice agriculture, the fishing industry, and mining of precious metals.

This man found it well thought-out and strangely realistic. Many netizens were having a blast with it. If experts provided some valuable advice, the blogger’s result reports would read as ridiculously authentic, impressing those who had contributed. The rookie mistakes, for instance, would be so on-point that the commenters would feel as though the viscount had followed their instructions. The photos that came with the posts were quite well done, too, and everyone praised the CGI artist behind them. At this point, everyone was commenting as if the county was a real place. There were even emergency events like “Help This Sick Girl!” and “Help! Pests on the Rice!”

One day, the man—a regular poster—received an invitation.

“Thank you very much for helping me cheat my way into being a great ruler. We have a three-day weekend in two weeks, and I would like to invite you and three of my other reliable advisors for a small IRL meet-up in my county. I hope that seeing it with your own eyes will help you continue to advise me in the future.

Also, we will be there for all three days of the weekend. All you should bring are personal hygiene products and spare undergarments. I will prepare everything else. However, for the clothing, I would like to know your preferred sizes.

Starts: Saturday, 1:00 PM

Ends: Monday, 1:00 PM”

What the hell?! Damn right I’m going! I have no idea where the “county” is, but it’s a free three-day trip, so why pass that up? Will there be hot springs? Does this blog belong to some rich old retiree doing some farming in a depopulated village? That’s the feeling “my county” gives me, anyway. Also, I’ll get to meet three other regs! That alone makes it worth the trip.

He assumed someone who could cover all the expenses of a three-day trip for five people would have to be rich. The CGI work alone had convinced him that some good money was involved, and he found it hard to imagine the viscount would waste so much money on a boring excursion. In his mind, there was no way going to the meet-up could be a waste of time.

Is it an old lady? Or a retired middle-aged man with too much time and money to spend? What kind of person is this “viscount”?

◇ ◇ ◇

By 12:55 PM on Saturday, four people had gathered at a rooftop playground above a department store. The group included “McCoy”, a middle-aged man and regular of the “Disease Help” part of the blog; “Mountain King”, a twenty-six-year-old man and “Mining Help” regular; “Dry Fish”, a twenty-seven-year-old woman and “Marine Help” devotee; and “Greenpeas”, a twenty-three-year-old woman and frequent contributor to “Farming Help”.

They had quickly come to the conclusion that all four of them were fellow participants. Some assumed that one among them was the viscount, but it turned out not to be the case.

A few minutes later, just ten seconds before the clock struck one...

“Thank you all for coming. I am Viscountess Mitsuha von Yamano.”

“CUTE GIRL ALERT!” someone cried. Everyone besides McCoy, AKA Dr. Shuhei Nishimura, was already swooning over Mitsuha.

“I’ve called you here because this place is almost always empty, and the large equipment can hide us well,” said Mitsuha before beckoning them closer.

McCoy partially knew what was about to happen, but the other three were clueless and followed her instructions with a little hesitation. They were soon completely hidden, and in the next moment, they had vanished completely.

“Welcome to the Yamano County!” said Mitsuha upon their arrival to the other world.

“WHAAAT?!” The three besides McCoy were initially stupefied, but once they had calmed down, they began firing off questions.

“Um, are the fields I told you to make actually here? Like in the reports? Y’know, those pics with the CGI?!” asked Greenpeas.

“There was no CGI. I took the photos with a standard digital camera. But yes, the fields are on the plains near the mountainside,” Mitsuha replied.

“The ship, then!” cried Dry Fish. “Where’s the mini all-purpose fishing ship?!”

“It’s still being tested, but it’s in the temporary shipyard in the fishing village. We’re a bit at the end of our rope with it.”

“What’s the problem?! Where’s the ship?! WHERE?!”

The women, giddy with excitement, aggressively approached Mitsuha.

“Hahaha.” Mountain King, whose real name was Tomoya Aoki, chuckled in self-derision. “I’d help with your mine, but doesn’t seem like there is one. And logging is too hard without heavy machinery.”

McCoy—Shuhei Nishimura—patted the dejected man’s shoulder.

Suddenly, a young girl nearby ran away from her mother and up to McCoy, embracing his leg.

“Uhm, hello?”

Mitsuha smiled. “This is Margaret. She’s the one you saved, Dr. McCoy.”

The girl’s mother caught up and bowed to him over and over.

“Aah... Aaahhhh!”

He tilted his head up for a moment, but it didn’t stop the waterworks.

“WAAAHHHH!” He crouched and wrapped his arms around the little girl.

My daughter, he thought, sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn’t save her, but this girl, I...

“Man, am I the only one who’s got nothing?” muttered Mountain King.

“Mountain King, please head to the mountains. Inspect them, and examine the trees,” said Mitsuha.

“Huh?”

“I’d also like to know if we can build a house for charcoal production and a Japanese-style furnace. Y’know, a tatara.”

“You want to do what?”

“I’m interested in steel made of iron sand, too.”

“Huh? You serious?!”

Mitsuha wanted to be considerate of those who had traveled a long way for this, so she planned to have everyone arrive and split up for work on the same afternoon. With everyone preoccupied with their tasks, evening would come quickly.

Greenpeas went around the fields, checking for problems. Dry Fish shouted at the shipwrights building her new ship while Mitsuha acted as an interpreter. She also checked on the town’s methods of processing seafood and inspected shellfish and seaweed. McCoy and Mitsuha went to Boris—the 260-pound man—so the doctor could speak with him directly. Mountain King went into the mountains.

By the time the group returned to the viscount’s residence, it was completely dark. They entered the bath, changed into the clothes they were provided, and started a get-together. Everyone tried to stop Mitsuha from drinking, but she insisted that adulthood here started at fifteen, so they had no choice but to back down.

She probably drinks on the regular, anyway, they thought.

Seeing the county with their own eyes had lit a fire inside the participants. They chatted and argued about what they’d discovered, had lots of laughs, and quickly became drunk—an obvious outcome of the alcohol and good atmosphere.

McCoy, however, drank slowly and spoke little. He seemed to be lost in thought about something. Mitsuha understood this, but she didn’t want to miss an opportunity to consult a doctor about something that had been bothering her.

“Doc. Can I ask you something?” she asked, sitting beside him.

“Of course. What is it?”

“Umm, if someone could slowly but surely heal from any wound and even regrow lost body parts, what would that mean for the rest of their body?” She had been thinking about this a great deal lately.

McCoy could still think through his boozy haze, but his mind was a bit jumbled. “Hmmm. Everything totally heals? Even lost parts? Does that mean that even bones and nerve cells come back? There’s no oxygen decay, faults in DNA transcription, or telomere shortening? That’s crazy talk, haha. But I guess they’d never get older. Or maybe they’d even regrow a new head once it came off. Hahaha.”

Upon hearing his theory, Mitsuha collapsed.

“That’s why a child like you shouldn’t drink,” McCoy hiccuped, shaking his head.

Mitsuha was in a state of mild, alcohol-induced delirium. “Hrmmm. That means I’m gonna need a lot more than eighty thousand for my retirement.”

Huh? Is that really the most shocking thing about this? And is it really “retirement” if you never get old?

A short time ago, Mitsuha had begun to think that she wouldn’t grow any more. Even at the ripe age of eighteen, she’d hoped to grow a bit—to gain a few inches on her breasts, chest, and bosom, for example. There wasn’t a single sign of growth, however, hence why she had asked McCoy about regeneration. The answer left little room for hope.

No! That’s just conjecture! I’ll still grow! There’s no need to panic!

As much as she wanted to believe it, she had prepared for this truth ever since she stopped growing at seventeen. Ultimately, she was was fine with staying young forever. It wasn’t as though she was immortal; losing her head would probably kill her, as would a pierced heart, or a jump into a blast furnace.

Oh well, no point in thinking too hard about it. I’ll have fun until I’m bored of life. Also, there might come a time when I meet that “thing” again.

◇ ◇ ◇

In the morning, everyone awoke with severe headaches. Mitsuha, on the other hand, was perfectly fine.

Does my auto-heal work on hangovers? Diseases, too, maybe?

They planned to go to the capital in the afternoon. Until then, everyone made whatever preparations they deemed necessary. Around 1 PM, they changed into clothes that would allow them to blend in with the capital’s crowd, then jumped to Mitsuha’s General Store. Mitsuha had recently resumed business, but with extremely limited hours.

She had one particular place in mind for lunch: the diner, Paradise.

Upon hearing that people from Mitsuha’s country had come to visit, Anel, Aleena, Bernd, and even Marcel wanted to try their hand and see what they would think of their Yamano Cuisine.

“We’re in a whole different world, but we’re going to eat normal Earth food?” whined her online advisors, but Mitsuha paid them no mind. She also planned to have them come to Paradise for dinner.

Anyway, what the hell’s with all these people? Sabine, the whole Bozes family, the king, the chancellor, and especially you, first princess! Well, whatever. Guess I’ve gotta introduce them.

“Mitsuha, you’re a viscountess, right?” Greenpeas asked. “Why is the count’s family treating you like one of them? Why are you talking to a princess so casually? And... the king? Really?”

“Please, don’t ask.” Mitsuha just didn’t know how to answer.

The Yamano Cuisine received passing marks from the travelers, and the Paradise crew cried tears of joy.

Next, it was time for a tour around the capital. They would go sightseeing first and foremost, but Mitsuha told them to give her a shout if they noticed any lucrative business opportunities.

“Hey, why is everyone watching you with sparkling eyes, waving at you, and shouting? What are they saying?” asked one of the members.

“Again, just... don’t ask.”

There wasn’t really much in the capital worth seeing. The royal palace was the highlight, but it wasn’t as though the guards would allow them inside. Besides that, there were European-style cobblestone roads and old brick buildings, both of which were similar enough to what they’d seen in photos or on TV. At the very least, the outer wall was somewhat impressive. As Mitsuha considered how to improve her tour, she heard someone say, “Very well, I shall show you around our palace.”

Goddamn it, royals!

At dinnertime, they were served meals from the kingdom’s cuisine. Despite that, there wasn’t anything terribly interesting.

If this were a manga, you’d have a dragon steak or something. Funnily enough, you’re more likely to have one back on Earth right now. They probably froze the damn thing.

Later, after everyone had gotten drunk once again, McCoy approached Mitsuha. He looked really serious.

“Viscountess... would it be possible for me to live here?”

Oh, so that’s what’s on his mind.

“Yeah, it’s not impossible, but what if I die or lose my world-jumping power? What if you’re left here all alone? You’re a doctor, sure, but what can you do without medical equipment or medicine? You’d have to learn the language, too, and even if you did that, there aren’t any words for more advanced concepts. Imagine yourself explaining CT scans to a medieval person using only words they can understand.”

McCoy once again ascended into his own thoughts and walked away.

I feel like I just bullied him a bit. It’s unlikely that I’d die before him, and I don’t think I’ll lose my world-jump. But that’s not impossible, and I don’t want anyone planning their life around me and my power. Even I’m preparing a safety measure in the off chance that I do lose it: my plan to save eighty thousand gold coins for my retirement.

With no sobriety in their steps, they reconvened at Mitsuha’s General Store before jumping to her Yamano County residence. There was no point in them staying at an inn, and the third floor of the store was Mitsuha’s private space.

While passing through, everyone caught a glimpse of Mitsuha’s prices.

“Holy crap, that’s expensive!”

“These prices are criminal!”

“Insanity.”

“This is a store straight from hell.”

Augh! Shut up, you guys!

◇ ◇ ◇

The next day, everyone slept in. The only item on their agenda was to return home, after all. The clothes her guests had been wearing during their arrival had been cleaned while they were at the capital. After waking, they changed back into their normal clothes, had a late brunch, and did some final inspections. They looked at the ship, then checked the fields.

Too bad! That’s not real gold, but fool’s gold!

McCoy received another hug from the little girl.

Mitsuha returned the four of them to the playground on Monday at 1 PM sharp. Their otherworldly weekend was over, and it was now time for them to return to their everyday lives.