by Nikita Thorn
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Bushido Online
BOOK II: Friends and Foes
A Work by Nikita Thorn, for LitRPG Freaks
Bushido Online: Friends and Foes
Copyright © 2018 by LitRPG Freaks
Cover Art by Joemel Requeza
Typesetting by Pindurski
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
Prologue
A pile of files at least six inches thick slid across the table toward Tom Hudson, a middle-aged man in a dark blue sports jacket, which was perhaps much too casual for the kind of setting he was in.
“Please reconsider, Mr. Hudson,” said the man in a gray suit sitting opposite him across the glass table, beneath the lit-up silver VirCo logo on the wooden wall. “You can look through these and see for yourself a clear progress report. Dr. Emerson would be more than happy to—”
“Like I told your staff over the phone,” interrupted Coach Hudson in apparent annoyance. “I don’t think this is helping. No disrespect, Mr. Randall. I understand this might have worked for other patients but, with Seth, I don’t think it’s what he needs.”
The man called Randall smiled. “If you would just look—”
“No, here’s the problem. This is all he ever does now,” said Tom. “At first, it was fine, like you said. I was glad that he had found a new hobby. An hour or two, here and there, in the evenings. But then what happened? One weekend he told me I shouldn’t take him out for lunch because he had other plans. The next thing I knew, you almost had to hospitalize him!”
The female assistant beside Randall interrupted him. “That’s a gross overstatement, he—”
“No, you listen to me!” Tom’s voice burst with anger. “I don’t know how you can call this progress. I talked to the unit supervisor and she told me he was on your damned game all night until he passed out. And the next morning, as soon as he woke up, he loaded himself up with energy drinks so he could keep going. Isn’t there supposed to be a safety—”
“Mr. Hudson, please,” said the assistant. “We have investigated the issue and it turned out that Seth was experiencing a prolonged period of high-level engagement with the content, and that tipped the system in favor of keeping him logged in. We have made adjustments to the balance and, now, the override tolerates a much lower degree of physical discomfort. We have also spoken to him and he promised it would never happen again. We keep a close eye on his logs now. On weekdays, he’s not immersed for more than four hours at a time and, ever since the incident, his attendance on everything has been perfect. So, we believe he’s learning to pace himself.”
“Pace himself?” Tom scoffed. “Look, miss, he never called me before. Last week, he phoned me out of the blue, and you know what it was for? He wanted me to convince his doctors to allow him to drop his weekly support group. Why? Just so he could spend more time in the game! I don’t know what he’s doing—”
“The point is he reached out to you, Mr. Hudson,” said Randall. “Had he ever done that before? Had he ever picked up his cell and called you without you having to call him first?”
Tom seemed taken aback, and Randall took the chance to continue, now in a much more pleasant tone. “We believe Seth is unconsciously refusing help. You know that he goes to his session every week and says what he thinks the therapist wants to hear. He’s polite in support group but only participates when prompted. We’ve looked into this and he tests very high on self-reliance, Mr. Hudson, and this is where it’s not helpful.” Randall sighed. “I understand that he’s an only child and, throughout his teenage years, he spent quite some time away from home, for his… training, I believe.”
“Yes,” said Tom, softly, perhaps with a hint of guilt. “I told his parents the boy had potential.”
After a moment of silence, Randall sighed again. “So, do reconsider our proposal, Mr. Hudson. We can help. We believe we are helping. And like we’ve mentioned before, we would like you to be the one to bring this up with Seth, since he trusts you.” He looked empathically at the coach, who was now lost in reflection. “I know you only want the best for him. Well, we have the best to offer right here and, if you would just look, you’d see that this is all cutting-edge research.” He continued in a soothing tone, “We know we can assist him and, so far, we’ve seen improvement. But to be able to make a real difference, like I said over the phone earlier, we will need him to sign some more papers.”
Randall slid the pile of documents closer as Tom hesitated. “Have a look through these reports and take as much time as you like, Mr. Hudson. The legal documents are in the leather file at the end.” The man gestured to the bottom. “As well as a certified Braille copy for Seth to sign.”
Across the city, in the assisted living complex, a young man was walking down a brightly-lit corridor, running his fingers casually along the metal rail.
He stopped in front of a door and held up his medical wristband to the sensor pad. The lock clicked open to let him through. Noticing the chilly air inside, he felt for the right button on the panel beside the door as he adjusted the temperature, and reached for his phone on the table by the door, which turned out not to be there.
“Viva, notifications?” he said into the empty room.
A friendly woman’s voice greeted him from the coffee table on the other side of the room. “Hi, Seth. There are four new messages. Two from: mom. One from: Dan. One from: SportsSale. Would you like me to read them to you?”
The young man grimaced. “Later,” he said, as he shut the door, plunging the room into complete darkness. And he reached for the small metal discs on a plate by his bed.
Chapter 01
The afternoon sun was high in the cloudless sky, lighting up the whole of Chubu Plains in refreshing yellowish green. The treetop of the sparse patch of woodland was completely quiet, except for the occasional bird that fluttered gently by.
Seiki pulled himself up into a sitting position on a high branch and turned his head around in wonder as he observed the scenery.
In the distance, to his right, the red city of Shinshioka—a good fifteen-minute gallop away—leaned against the side of the hill, too far away at the moment to be made out in detail. On his left, as far as he could see, was the bright green rolling terrain that made up the Plains, dotted with small mounds, thatched villages and patches of trees in slightly darker green. And beyond that was a line of dense trees that marked the start of what people called the Wilderness.
There had been terrible times, and turbulent times, but this was thankfully not one of them. Seiki closed his eyes and consciously took notice of the warm sun on his skin as he leaned back against the tree trunk. There were taller trees he would eventually be able to conquer, but
this was not bad for a solid two weeks’ work.
As soon as he had learned what the Woodcutting Trade Perk was, he had immediately gone to find the Master Woodsman south of Shinshioka and, as Kentaro had put it, embarked on a destructive mission of deforestation. By Level 12 Woodcutting, he was able to climb up trees that were two-story high. And by Level 18 Woodcutting—which was his current position—, he was more than three stories above ground, and the view was starting to get very good, as he had told his friends. What he did not tell them was that swinging your axe repeatedly into hard wood was also a great way to spend excess energy, and that ultimately there was something rather cathartic about hard labor when you were alone in the woods.
At first, this world had been his refuge, and he thought they had given it to him as a kind of consolation, perhaps as compensation for the things he had lost. He knew it was not real, but it was a world where he could go places without waiting for an assistant; where words on signs leapt out at him and made instant sense without him having to feel for tiny metal dots; where the changing lights between sunrise and sunset actually meant something.
He had been pleasantly surprised that they had even allowed him a little dojo, too. That had been something to be part of, something to love and be excited about again. After all, that was the only kind of life he had ever known.
But what happened to Master Tsujihara had been a rude awakening: a cold reminder that even here, even in his deepest escape, things changed and remain changed; that he could not keep holding on to the one thing he cared about, even when it was not real.
Whereas before he had been trying to fight to keep negative feelings at bay, it seemed that he had at last lost the fight. The floodgates had been broken and the emotions now hit him in violent waves. He had tried to keep his two worlds completely separate: one of dark despair, and one of living colors where he was whole and free, and where no tainted memories and tragic awareness could touch him. But even that stupid little illusion they had to take away. Whenever he was reminded of the fact, he could only grab his woodcutting axe and ride out the East Gate into the Wilderness and vent all his energy on the unsuspecting nature until he was completely spent, body and mind.
Then, too tired to be angry anymore, he would climb up as high as he could and heave a deep sigh as he took in the view. Most of the time, like now, the view itself was rewarding enough to keep him going a bit longer. It was as if he was hoping for something, but he ignored what.
Seiki squinted as he tried to see into the distance. Somewhere, in the eastern horizon, he thought he could make out a body of water glittering silver in the sunlight. Perhaps a lake, or part of a river. He doubted he could explore that far yet, since the hostile inhabitants of the lands were of higher levels the further you ventured out of the city. But he thought maybe he would push as far east as possible, to see how far he could go, especially on such a fine day like this.
That was when he thought he spotted something near the sparkling sliver of water. It was moving, and to be visible from such a distance it had to be enormous. Seiki grabbed the trunk of the tree and pulled himself up to get a better view, pushing aside a small leafy branch, which accidentally snapped in his hand.
He immediately sensed something amiss. He looked at the severed branch which was, for the lack of a better word, bleeding, with dark red drops of blood dripping from the wound where it had broken off the trunk.
Seiki cursed. “Kodama,” he said under his breath.
One of the first things you learned as a Level 1 Woodcutter was that, unless you wanted to die a horrible bludgeoned death, you never cut kodama—which were trees that housed spirits in them, usually marked with hemp ropes tied around their trunks. Some of these trees even bled, and that was always a very bad sign.
The tree started to shake.
“Sorry! There was no rope!” Seiki said as he scrambled down its trunk as fast as he could, and literally leapt down the last one-story height, grimacing as it took a chunk of his health.
The tree did not care for his excuses and was now rustling angrily. Seiki ran out of range before it could kill him. There was no way to fight a kodama, the Master Woodcutter had told him. Seiki had heard rumors that, if you dropped to your knees and apologized, the kodama would eventually forgive you, but he was not going to take any chances now.
Perhaps because his offense had been unintentional, the tree settled down and went still as soon as he was about ten paces away. Seiki let out a relieved chuckle. The woods were after all a spiritual place, in many different ways.
Further away from the city, kodama trees often did not get marked, and the only sign you could look out for was the fact that they changed positions when you were not looking. So, you either had to have an idiot savant type of memory or simply try your luck and risk getting killed by an enraged branch. This had caused Seiki many an amusing death, but he considered it an occupational hazard and thought that it was only fair that once in a while the trees would hit back.
Maybe this was a sign to go exploring after all. Seiki grabbed a whistle from his leather bag and called Fubuki, his white snowstepper horse. The roads were safer during the day, and he could perhaps reach the lake in safety before sunset if he stuck to the main road. As he got in the saddle, he heard the familiar sounds of beating wings, and he instinctively held out his hand.
As expected, a pigeon dropped itself readily into his palm, and Seiki looked at it in slight wonder. Post pigeons were usually gray and green, but this one was pure black. And the message it carried, which was very simple, was written on bright red paper:
Meet me at Mani Shrine as soon as you can. – Kato
Quest accepted: Mani Shrine [Level 10].
Mani Shrine [Level 10 Quest Information]: meet Lieutenant Kato at Mani Shrine in West City, Shinshioka. You will receive: 85 XP.
“Of course,” said Seiki. “Shinshioka colors.” This was the first time he had received an official message, and perhaps the birds were color-coded red and black to show this.
Woodcutting gave a decent amount of experience, as long as you were moving to more advanced trees further into the Wilderness. Through this, plus some extra experience from random wayward beasts that haunted the forests, Seiki had reached Level 10 without really trying to. He had not done any more quests or missions, despite Ippei’s urge, since he was somehow still a bit reluctant to go see Commander Nakatani and deal with the whole Shogun business.
“Seems like we’ll have to put off exploring for a bit,” he told the horse, as he folded the message, put it in his pocket, and urged his mount onto the dirt path that led out of the woods.
Riding was another thing he had been working on. Now, he could jump easily over low roots, making for a rather smooth ride out to the main road. The sun was bright and the ride pleasant, with the tall grass bending in waves as the wind passed through it. Having made this journey so often, coming back to Shinshioka through the East Gate was starting to feel like home. Seiki appreciated the sense of familiarity as he rode past the decorative azure dragon on top of the gate and the guards looking at him warily, as they often did.
He knew his way around these parts of the city now. He turned onto Trade Street, after which another five minutes took him to the entrance of Mani Shrine, with its distinctive green sloping roofs. As he dismounted, he wondered why he had never set foot in the shrine before, despite having passed it almost every day.
Welcome to Mani Shrine! Sacred grounds. PVP status: disabled.
The shrine was bigger than expected and, the moment he stepped through the open doorway, he found himself in an atmosphere of calm. The three-storied pagoda towered high on the left, its tiny bells hanging from the corners of the curved green roofs clinking faintly in the gentle breeze. On the right was a cluster of other one-storied buildings of various sizes. Tall dark green pine trees lined the walls and the air was full of soothing incense.
Seiki noted with slight amusement that he was probably no
t the only person who never bothered to visit, as he found the shrine almost empty, except for Natsuki [Level 3] in yellow and pink. The girl glanced at Seiki and squinted at the sword on his waist as she inspected it.
“Seiki,” said Lieutenant Kato.
Seiki turned to look and identified the man under one of the pine trees near the entrance. The last time Seiki had seen the young lieutenant was on a windy bamboo hill, which was quite a while ago. The man appeared the same as before, in his black and red Shinshioka uniform, though perhaps a little better groomed.
“Come with me,” Kato said, and he started walking down a stone path between two close buildings.
Seiki chuckled. “Getting straight to business, aren’t you, Lieutenant Kato?”
“I often come here to pay respect to my late father,” the lieutenant said, solemnly, as he nodded toward a tiny shrine painted white. Seiki glanced in and saw that it held a small altar, with a black spirit tablet on which Commander Kato’s name was inscribed.
If Seiki remembered correctly, Lieutenant Kato had been very young when his father died in that fateful battle that set in motion a chain of unfortunate events. There was a sense of inevitability to all this and, for a reason that had nothing to do with the storyline, Seiki could not help but feel a little disturbed.
They continued down the path, which eventually led to the entrance of a large hall. The lieutenant sighed as he looked in. “And to remember the brave men who sacrificed their lives for Shinshioka.”
They had stopped in front of a massive building at least four times the size of Master Tsujihara’s dojo. The sign above the doorway, written in large golden characters, read: “Hall of the Fallen Heroes.”
As they stepped through the doorway, Seiki noticed that all along one wall, from the lowest shelf at chest height up to the ceiling, were rows upon rows of spirit tablets, inscribed with the names of all who had fallen in battle against the Demonic Clan. It was quite a sight to see, and Seiki drew in a surprised breath as he marveled at it. From his rough estimate, there must have been more than a thousand names, all of which seemed to have been ranked officers. Seiki could now guess that the smaller buildings in the area were memorials for the different troops that made up the whole of Shinshioka armed forces.