Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 1

by Blitz Kiva

  “Matsunaga is the name of the person who runs the VRMMO wiki, isn’t it?”

  “They do appear to be one and the same. He runs a VRMMO news aggregator site, as well. He apparently makes quite a living off of affiliate advertising. I admit, I’m jealous.”

  Felicia had seen a little bit of the official site, too, but she was more curious about something else. She tugged on Kirschwasser’s sleeve.

  “Mr. Kirsch, you seem to be enjoying this.”

  “Describing all the strongest people here feels like a scene out of a manga. Isn’t it exciting?”

  “But don’t the people described in those scenes usually end up losing to make someone else look more powerful?”

  “Perhaps so.” It seemed Kirschwasser wasn’t thinking about it all that deeply.

  “I see members of the Akihabara Forging Guild, too,” Ichiro murmured to himself, staring off into the distance.

  “It seems like it,” Kirschwasser agreed.

  They were looking in the direction of a diminutive Dwarf with a white mustache and a Machina in full plate mail. Perhaps it wasn’t surprising to see Premium Pack-exclusive races here on the front lines.

  “Itchy, do you know them?” She couldn’t imagine he’d done a whole lot of research on the game’s heavy users in advance.

  “They’re a manufacturing guild that operates primarily in the merchant town. We had a few minor interactions in the week before I met up with you.”

  Though extremely curious about those “interactions,” Felicia opted not to pry any further.

  Ichiro liked using roundabout turns of phrase, but he wasn’t an especially secretive person, which meant that when he did intentionally avoid talking about something, there was nothing you could do to make him loosen his lips.

  “Speaking of which, I’ve never seen any of that stuff of yours before, Itchy.” Hunting around for a new subject to switch to, Felicia settled upon the subject of his “armor.”

  He wore a black jacket and trousers that quite resembled the suit he had worn to their great-grandfather’s party. The design certainly stood out in the middle ages fantasy world of NaroFan.

  At last, Ichiro turned his gaze back to Felicia and smiled. It was a very nice smile, one that she hadn’t seen from him much lately. It took her aback. “Yes, isn’t it a nice design? I’m the only one in this game who has one like it. If we have time later, I’ll tell you the story of how I got it.”

  Ichiro had always seemed so bored with everything lately, it was a surprise for her to see him looking so satisfied about anything. It set her heart racing, but at the same time, it unsettled her.

  “Itchy... Did something good happen to you?”

  “I suppose it did. I think I might come to like this game a great deal.”

  She should have been happy to hear that, but it set her stomach churning for some reason. She couldn’t quite tell the source of her unease, either, which she didn’t like one bit.

  Before that dissatisfaction could register on the surface, though, Kirschwasser interrupted with a small cough. “Um... ahem!”

  That was right. He had been in the middle of his own explanation. Ichiro and Felicia decided to quiet down and hear the rest of the elder Knight’s words.

  “There are many other famous guilds, but those are the three big ones in NaroFan.”

  Now that he mentioned it, a lot of players were looking at them from afar and whispering to each other. The Red Sunset Knights, the Dual Serpents, the Akihabara Forging Guild... They all had different objectives, but it was still impressive to see them all together. Each member wore their guild’s crest at the front of their collar.

  Ichiro and Felicia craned their necks around, and both spoke up simultaneously.

  “Oh, it’s Kirihito.”

  “Hey, it’s Kirihito.”

  Hearing this, Kirschwasser turned his head reflexively. He laughed. “I suppose Kirihitos haven’t gotten rare at this stage at all...”

  Indeed, there were Kirihitos here.

  And not just one or two. They were looking at a group of identical child-faced and diminutive young men with black hair, black armor, and all carrying a straight-edged sword. A veritable swarm of Kirihitos. At the collar of their tie-in armor — whose stats seemed a little insufficient for their level range — the Kirihitos had all mapped a texture of an original crest design.

  Unlike the unruly mass of Kirihitos walking every which way in Starter Town, it was clear from their synchronized walking motions that these ones were well-trained. Their faces were all nearly identical, as well, with a level of detail that suggested a great deal more passion than most.

  “What the heck? Isn’t that kind of creepy?” Felicia asked.

  “It’s a combat guild called ‘The Kirihitters,’ apparently. It was founded by a passionate fan of that story I mentioned before. The only membership requirement is ‘be Kirihito,’ but I didn’t think they were powerful enough to join the Grand Quest.”

  The leader of the Kirihitters, whose avatar name was “Kirihito (Leader),” seemed to hear them talking, and walked briskly up to them.

  “It’s been tough, y’know? We’re all Fighters, which throws off the balance a lot.”

  “I bet it would...”

  “Will you be joining the Grand Quest, too?” Kirihito (Leader) asked.

  It was Ichiro who responded. “As a matter of fact, we’re searching for a Kirihito.”

  “I see. Well, take your pick.” The other six Kirihitos all struck poses at Kirihito (Leader)’s prompting. Each pose was a little different, reflecting their individuality. It was a little overly precious.

  “You’re all very nice Kirihitos, but not the one we’re looking for. Now, do you know of any Kirihitos who began playing sometime between August and October of last year?” Ichiro asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter. At times like these, he was honestly very useful to have around.

  The Kirihitos looked at each other and began an earnest discussion. It seemed the Kirihito they were looking for was not among them, but they might have a clue as to who it was. After they talked for a while, Kirihito (Leader) turned back to them with a serious expression.

  “We believe you’re referring to the legendary ‘King Kirihito.’”

  “K-King Kirihito?” Felicia asked, her voice cracking.

  “He’s a solo player who fights on the front lines here in the Delve Necrolands. We’d like to meet him, too.”

  Kirschwasser raised a brow in surprise. “A solo player? Really? In the Delve Necrolands?”

  “Yeah. Incredible, right? We hear he’s a Fighter who dresses all in black and uses a straight sword as his main weapon.”

  “Oh-ho. I see. The Kirihito from the novel was a solo player, wasn’t he?” the silver-haired Knight asked.

  Kirihito (Leader) nodded in confirmation.

  To play solo in the Delve Necrolands, the game’s highest-level story content, was an act of madness. Character death was penalized in this game. It resulted in the loss of all your items, so even elite players strove to avoid it at all costs. One death could mean the loss of hundreds of hours of work in an instant. That fear deterred most players from foolish attempts at solo play as they got closer and closer to the top ranks.

  As the man talked, only Kirschwasser noticed that Ichiro had closed his eyes, as though thinking about something.

  “That’s why, out of respect, we call him the ultimate Kirihito... King Kirihito.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone appreciating that...” Felicia muttered.

  Felicia’s words were accurate; the title was fatally lame.

  But King Kirihito was the only person Kirihito (Leader) could think of that would have begun playing sometime between August and October — in other words, the time when Sera Kiryu had first stopped going to school. Did that mean this King Kirihito was her friend’s avatar?

  “I can’t believe we got the clue this easily...” Felicia said, dejectedly. She couldn’t help feeling that all her
hard work over the past three months had been a waste of time.

  Kirihito (Leader) laughed. “It certainly is a clue, but if you think you can catch King that easily, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  “What do you mean?” Ichiro asked.

  “King is a lone wolf. He’s never registered a single friend. He’s probably down in the lowest levels of the dungeon, fighting powerful monsters like he does every day. Can you imagine? Being all alone in a dungeon full of powerful enemies that give even the top guilds pause?”

  “I see.”

  “We’re going to try to find King, too, and gain inspiration from him as his fellow Kirihitos. Later. I pray we’ll meet again!”

  “Meet again!” “Meet again!” “Meet again!” “Meet again!” “Meet again!” “Meet again!”

  The remaining six Kirihitos imitated their leader in lockstep before leaving.

  Ichiro watched The Kirihitters depart the front-line base into the Necrolands, murmuring to himself, “I suppose everyone enjoys the game in their own way.”

  “Indeed.” Kirschwasser could sympathize, as someone with his own unique playing style.

  Felicia stood there with a gloomy expression on her face.

  It was only natural. She had gotten a clue as to Sera Kiryu’s whereabouts so suddenly, but it had not been what she was expecting at all. No one expected to hear about someone they knew being deified as a legendary solo player. It was difficult to reconcile the image of her truant classmate with the King Kirihito they had talked about.

  “We don’t know for certain that they’re one and the same,” Ichiro reminded her, but Felicia only murmured a subdued agreement.

  “Even so, a hint is a hint,” Kirschwasser said. “He mentioned something about the lowest levels of the dungeon.”

  “Yeah. I wonder which one...”

  “If you go straight down the Necrolands’ main street, you’ll reach a dungeon called the Forgotten Catacombs. That’s likely it. Many people have been exploring it, believing it to be a key point in the Grand Quest.” Kirschwasser cast a glance at the three great guilds. “I believe the Knights and the Serpents were making it a point to explore the Catacombs.”

  “I see,” Ichiro nodded. Then he looked at Felicia. She was deep in thought about something.

  “Anyway, Felicia. Shall we search for King Kirihito?”

  “S-Sure...”

  At the sight of Felicia’s hesitant agreement, Ichiro smiled gently. “Would you rather not?”

  “H-Huh?” Felicia looked up at the unexpected question.

  “I’m doing this at your request. If you’re not certain this is what you want, I won’t do it.”

  Felicia stood in silence for a few moments, then eventually shook her head. “No, let’s go.”

  The others had no idea what decision Felicia had worked out in that short moment of hesitation.

  She was surely in disbelief over the story of King Kirihito. Ichiro and Kirschwasser had no idea what Sera Kiryu was like in the real world, but the description of King Kirihito suggested a person surely very different from the one that Asuha Tsuwabuki knew.

  What was the thought process at work, if the two really were one and the same? Felicia’s petrification was likely due to feeling lost at sea about that. Such was Ichiro’s analysis of his second cousin’s state of mind.

  “Master Ichiro, it seems in rather poor taste to try to peek into the heart of a girl of such tender years, don’t you think?” From beside him, Kirschwasser threw him a chilly glance.

  Ichiro laughed. “Nonsense.”

  “Itchy, you can be nice sometimes.”

  “I’m always nice, as far as I know.”

  After working all that out, the three of them signed up for the quest.

  “There’s been a strange miasma sighted over the Necrolands for the last few days. We found a dungeon at the center of the ruins. Please go there and try to find the cause!”

  The GM running reception (a macho bunny-eared Anthromorph) gave them that overbearing instruction as he sent the party on their way.

  They had registered for the quest. Without registering, they wouldn’t be able to enter the central dungeon, the Forgotten Catacombs. It was an irritating rule.

  “Incidentally, it seems participants who die respawn at the ruined temple over there,” Ichiro said, pointing. Felicia and Kirschwasser looked at the ruined temple in question.

  Players were exiting it with surprising frequency, and with a variety of different expressions. Some looked pale and dejected, while others were smiling awkwardly. But they were uniformly returning either clad in their starter gear or stripped down to their underwear.

  “Ugh, you really do lose your equipment when you die...”

  “That is the rule, after all. You’ve never experienced it, Lady Felicia?”

  “No. I’ve only been fighting monsters way lower level than me.”

  “It is wise to preserve a safety margin.” Online games all had different death penalties. Some lowered your level or experience or caused you to lose all your money. NaroFan’s was particularly malicious — the loss of all items you were currently carrying. Players hated it. There had been enough complaints to force them to change certain rare items from “lost” to “dropped.”

  Still, if an entire party was wiped out, scavengers would show up to loot the dropped items, so in the end it didn’t fix much.

  “If The Kirihitters get killed on the way down, they’ll be reverted back to unremarkable adventurers who happen to have the name Kirihito. I wonder if they’ll pay to buy that tie-in armor again.”

  “They should create some kind of death penalty insurance. Perhaps I’ll collect in-game currency from players in advance, and either recompense them for the cost of items lost after death or simply agree to fetch the dropped items from the floors they died on. Wouldn’t that be an interesting business? Maybe I’ll try it.”

  “Itchy, please don’t do any more weird things.”

  Ichiro shrugged, but agreed that while death penalty insurance sounded like an interesting idea, it would probably be a lot of trouble to actually run. “Well, then, let’s head to the Necrolands. Felicia, are you all right for time?”

  “Oh, yeah. Um... we’ll probably have dinner around 8:00. They said they’d make it late today.”

  Felicia opened the menu window and checked the time. It was currently 6:00 PM. She’d come right home after finals and logged in around 2:30, which meant it had been over three hours now. It felt both very long and very short at the same time. A strange feeling.

  “I see. Well, I suppose I should go.”

  “Huh?!” Felicia was shocked by Kirschwasser’s statement. “Mr. Kirsch, you’re going home?”

  “You may have forgotten, Lady Felicia, but I am Sakurako Ogi.” The silver-haired Knight spoke in especially sonorous tones. “To neglect dinner preparations to play the game would make me a terrible wage thief. As that is not my desire, I shall log out and begin cooking Master Ichiro’s dinner.”

  “R-Right. That must be hard.”

  “Oh, but it is. Ah, Master Ichiro, tonight will be horse mackerel baked with fragrant herbs.”

  “Hm, sounds good. I was getting tired of just eating curry lately.”

  “Well, then. Good hunting, you two.”

  With that, Kirschwasser logged out.

  Ichiro and Felicia were left standing together in front of the gate that led out into the Necrolands. Elite players passed through the gate around them, shooting dubious glances their way.

  Felicia looked up at Ichiro timidly.

  “I-Itchy...”

  “Yes?”

  “Are we going?”

  “We are going,” Ichiro responded with a smile.

  “I, um... I’m only level 38.”

  “Yes, and I’m level 92.”

  “But our tank, Mr. Kirsch, just logged out.”

  “True, but I’m still here.”

  “I-I don’t have anyone to protect me...”


  Ichiro was neither stupid nor foolish. He was Felicia’s beloved Itchy, and he surely understood what she was getting at. Yet his infallible smile did not waver.

  “I am rarely one to quote proverbs, but there is one that applies very well right now.”

  “Wh-What?”

  “The best defense is a good offense.”

  “N-No!” Felicia cried out. She was about to run, but Ichiro’s next words were filled with ice.

  “Felicia. Earlier, I said that if you were not prepared to go, I would not go. You said you were prepared. That means that I will go, and you will go, too.”

  “What if I’m not prepared anymore?!”

  “I don’t have a plan for that, so we’ll go anyway. You now have two choices.” Ichiro held two fingers up to Felicia. “I can pick you up and drag you along, or you can stay close to me and walk on your own. I think the second is safer and more advisable. You won’t have to call in the Power Golem until it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Ichiro smiled. Felicia knew that smile.

  She remembered it from her eleventh birthday. Ichiro had taken her to the amusement park and listened courteously to all of her requests. They had gone on the Ferris wheel, the teacups, and the merry-go-round, just as she wanted to. But she hadn’t been satisfied just having him along. She had said:

  “I want to ride what you want to ride, Itchy.”

  Ichiro insisted that it was her birthday, and they should ride what she wanted. But she grew obstinate about the feeling that he was treating her like a child.

  “In that case...” Ichiro had said, and gleefully picked out his own preferred ride...

  Ah, just remembering it was terrifying.

  Ichiro Tsuwabuki could be indulgent to a fault, but if that were kicked away, all bets were off. This time was no different.

  Felicia gave up. To give up is the end, the saying went. But that was okay. She wanted to get the suffering over with as soon as possible.

  I wonder if I’ll die, Felicia thought.

  Long ago, Paul McCartney had sung “Live and Let Die.”

  It was a song from 26 years before Asuha was born, but for some reason the up-tempo rock track with Paul’s beautiful voice was playing on endless loop in her mind right now. The Dragonet boy ruthlessly and boldly amassed a pile of corpses as she clung to him, the two of them swiftly proceeding through the main story.