No Game No Life, Vol. 2

by Yuu Kamiya

  “Well, you know, this morning, this guy was looking at me while I was on the library balcony.”

  —Huh?

  “So then I signaled, ‘I’ll be over in a minute,’ and Gramps nodded back. See, we have an appointment.”

  “…Um, no, that does not make sense,” protested Steph:

  “H—wait a minute. It’s thirty kilometers from here to that library?!”

  “You’re right. It really surprised me to see how good Werebeast eyes are.”

  —No. That wasn’t the point. If we were talking about Werebeasts, then fine. But the question was. How did Sora see that? But without addressing that in the slightest. Ino responded calmly as if the details were already known.

  “It is my understanding you have business with the ambassador of the Eastern Union in Elkia—Izuna Hatsuse.”

  Thus—Ino anticipated their business. Ino’s narrowed eyes, the mind-reading eyes of the Werebeast, faced them all.

  Steph’s breath was stolen for a moment. They were—yes, just like Sora’s, no, even more. Eyes that seemed to see through everything, to peer into her head—

  “I’m glad we could get straight to it. So, let’s go; show me the way.”

  But, from Sora, who stood as if utterly unaffected by these eyes, taking them face-on, what did Ino glean?

  “—Come right this way, please.”

  As all he did was to invite them inside.

  Entering, going through the lobby, boarding the elevator. From among buttons that went up to 80, he pressed 60, and the elevator began to rise.

  “Uh?! Wh-what is this; the floor is moving?!”

  Ignoring the lone bewildered Steph, Ino said:

  “I must say, though, we would appreciate it if next time you made your visit according to the official procedures.”

  To his words, which implied, and not some stunt like that. Surprisingly, the one who reacted was Steph.

  “Some talk. Has the Eastern Union ever responded to the official procedures!”

  As if genuinely taken aback by Steph’s sarcastic words, Ino peered into Steph’s eyes and spoke.

  “—What, you have in fact posted…”

  At Ino, seeming to read Steph’s thoughts to see that she was telling a startling truth, Steph flinched for a moment at those eyes that read her soul, but stubbornly stood her ground.

  “O-of course we have! Since the reign of my grandfather, we have sent any number of letters regarding trade and diplomacy, and not once have we received a reply. How dare you feign ignorance!”

  “…I deeply apologize. Next time, please address your inquiries directly to me, Ino Hatsuse.”

  With that, Ino sighed and put a hand to his forehead.

  “As you know, since that incident, there are a remarkable number among us who hold an excess of hostility toward Elkia… Since the last game with your previous king, I have not heard once of a letter…”

  “Wha—! You li—”

  “I suspect that your letters have been disposed of within the lower ranks. There is no excuse for this; I will identify those who ordered and carried out this grave discourtesy—and see to it that they are punished severely. I beg your forgiveness.”

  Ino’s finished words, cutting off the doubting Steph, shut her up, bringing to her face rage and shame.

  —It appeared that he really hadn’t known.

  “Quite the ‘great country’; but I suppose it’s all one can expect from Werebeasts.”

  At Jibril’s snide quip, Ino’s gaze sharpened subtly.

  “Wait, Steph, what’s ‘that incident’?”

  Sora seemed to suppose that because letters were not arriving no appointment could be made.

  “…It involves the reconstruction after our castle was taken.”

  Sighing with a sense of pain, Steph explained.

  “Elkia built a new castle from the standpoint that having an embassy grander than our castle would affect our dignity as a nation.”

  “Hmm, the castle we have now, right?”

  “In response, the Eastern Union undertook a large-scale remodel, and then again, as if to rub it in our noses… Elkia is no competition for the Eastern Union when it comes to construction technology either, so, well, you know, things happened.”

  “Oh, yeah, I hate those events; they really get on my nerves…” Sora muttered.

  To this, Jibril took the opportunity for another jab. “It’s all the more irritating for the tendency of Werebeast, at Rank Fourteen, to look down inordinately at Immanity, at Rank Sixteen.—I seem to recall reading a certain phrase in one of my master’s books.”

  With a smile of recognition, Jibril said:

  “—‘The pot calling the kettle black.’”

  Hah-hah-hah, Ino laughed, and he answered.

  “How very apt; I cannot agree more. And, to be told this by Rank Six, how it smarts.”

  But, continued Ino:

  “In that case, your old curios floating around in the sky under a pile of books constitute the pot, I presume?”

  “Hee-hee; there’s no need to overexert yourself; you’re welcome to speak your true meaning as plainly as you like,” Jibril answered, with neither breaking a crack in their smiles.

  “That is, in rank, life span, physical abilities, knowledge, wisdom…in everything we are inferior to you, O Flügel, but as wretched, inadequate creatures crawling the earth, please allow us the luxury of looking down on one of the few life-forms we can find below us!”

  “Hah-hah-hah, I should not expect to hear such a novel viewpoint but from a defective product such as yourself who travels in the company of these hairless monkeys.”

  “Why, yes, for narrow-minded mongrels such as yourself, it certainly must be an eye opener!”

  “Hah-hah-hah!”

  “Tee-hee-hee!”

  “…Hey, Steph.”

  “…Not that I can’t guess, but what is it?”

  “Is it just me, or is there way too much tension in this world? Also, by hairless monkeys, does he mean us?”

  “In a world that was fighting for almost an eternity, when you ban combat out of the blue, some grudges would have to remain…”

  To say nothing of the fact that—

  “…They’re the two most bloodthirsty races amongst all the Ixseeds.”

  As for the second question—Steph shook her head to indicate that no response was necessary.

  “Hee-hee-hee, I’m sure your children can sleep better at night now that violence is forbidden.”

  “Hah-hah-hah, perhaps they do, unlike some with no skills besides killing, who have gone and settled into retirement.”

  …….

  The two siblings, Sora and Shiro, both thought the same thing: No wonder violence was forbidden in this world.

  Escaping from the almost crackling air of the elevator, on the sixtieth floor where they arrived, Steph seemed already exhausted, and, once they were led to a space that suggested a reception chamber, she sat down immediately.

  “S-so tiring…”

  Though he sympathized completely, Sora only looked around.

  “…If you’ll excuse me, I shall call Izuna Hatsuse and return in a bit.”

  Having watched Ino take a bow and retreat beyond view. Sora started taking in their surroundings, and Steph took his lead to look around the room.

  “…But one must say it is magnificent. The difference between our civilizations is all too palpable,” she said.

  A room made of marble and some other materials that one could tell at a glance were rare. Inside the leather sofa were even springs. But such things were not what Sora was looking for.

  “By the way, Master, how did you contact Werebeast?”

  “…Jibril, have you noticed no one’s brought it up? Take a hint.”

  “I apologize; unlike the mind-reading Werebeast, I could not help but wonder.”

  Sora knew that Jibril with the unknown before her eyes equaled a horse with a carrot dangling before it.

  “�
��…Whoop.”

  Sora, putting his index finger to his lips, brought out his phone. A video he’d apparently recorded using optical zoom and also applying an upscaling app to capture at the maximum magnification. In it was just barely visible an outline resembling an old man’s.

  —So, in other words. Sora actually hadn’t really seen Ino. It just so happened that a figure who seemed to be looking at him happened into his lens. He’d only gestured on the assumption that the person probably saw him. In short—it was just a bluff.

  Ah, how intriguing…went Jibril. However— (What purpose would such a bluff serve against Werebeast, who can read thoughts?) It didn’t seem that Ino had known that the letters weren’t arriving, either—. While Jibril ruminated thus.

  “…Brother, look.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Another question rained upon her.

  “…Master, do you know this?”

  Jibril pointed to it.— A TV. Yes, it was exactly what Sora had been looking for. The shape was significantly different from what Sora knew, but there was no way around it—it was a TV.

  “—Hmm, now I know for sure…”

  “What do you know?”

  But he answered with a sly grin.

  “I’ll tell you later. Werebeasts have good ears. I’m sure they’re listening already—right, Gramps?”

  “—Please forgive the wait.”

  Ino, clicking the door open and coming back in.

  “This is the ambassador of the Eastern Union in Elkia—Izuna Hatsuse.”

  With this introduction, what came through the doorway…

  …had black eyes and black hair in a bob, a tail and long animal ears, big as those of a fennec fox, along with traditional Japanese-style garb tied at the waist with a big ribbon—and, however you looked at it, her age couldn’t have more than one digit.

  “Cu—”

  Though Steph almost forgot her position and said cute, before she could get the words out…

  “King Crimson!”

  “Ee-hee-hee beautiful little girl with animal ears why don’t you come play with big brother I’m certainly no one suspicious…”

  “…Boink, boink…poof, poof…fluffy fluffy…hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…”

  —When did they move? Sora and Shiro, whom even Jibril’s eyes couldn’t catch, were already well on their way, precisely petting the girl’s head and tail. To these two, the Werebeast girl—Izuna—responded with a cute, innocent voice.

  “Who said you assholes could touch me, please.”

  …—.

  “—Huh?”

  “…Minus, fifty…cuteness…points.”

  The siblings each mumbling their bit and taking a big step back. But.

  “Who said you could stop, please.”

  “Uh…um, what?”

  “Get the hell on with it, please.”

  Like a cat that wanted to be petted, squinting her eyes, extending her neck, Izuna.

  “Uhh, oh, it’s all right?”

  “Dumbass, of course it’s all right, please. You just touched me without any goddamn warning, please.”

  While her manner and expression failed to match, somehow Sora seemed to catch on.

  “…Oh. Don’t think putting ‘please’ at the end of any goddamn sentence makes it polite, please?”

  “…?! It doesn’t, please?!”

  Come to think of it. In this world, you couldn’t do anything to people they didn’t want. So, when they were able pet Izuna, it meant that she permitted it.

  “Please don’t mind my granddaughter. She has only been in Elkia for one year and is not yet skilled in the Immanity tongue—and, also.”

  With that, Ino swiftly changed his expression.

  “You damn hairless monkeys! Just ’cos I’ve gone to the trouble of bowing my head for your scrawny asses you better not get cocky you little shits what makes you think you can get your filthy hands all over my lovely little granddaughter you’re good as dead—”

  —And, with that, restored his polite smile.

  “—is an example of the type of conversation I must caution you to avoid.”

  Sora responded with half-closed eyes and a soft remark.

  “—Gramps, this has nothing to do with the Immanity tongue and everything to do with you.”

  “I’m afraid your meaning eludes me, sir.”

  In Sora’s shadow, Shiro spoke, glaring at Ino.

  “…I hate this old fart… Minus a thousand points.”

  And, as Izuna gave the impression of wanting to be petted, Shiro fluffed her and said.

  “…But Iz-zy…so cute with that…potty mouth…plus ten points.”

  As Shiro petted and fluffed her, Ino, visibly suppressing rage, spoke quietly.

  “—Izuna. If you don’t like it, you can tell them?”

  “I like it just fine, please. It feels good, so keep doing it, bitch, please.”

  “Oh, then me, too.”

  Fluff fluff fluff fluff…

  “You’re pretty good for goddamn hairless monkeys, please. Do it more, please.”

  To Izuna, expressionless as a cat, yet closing her eyes as she spoke, Sora.

  “In that case, can you stop calling us hairless monkeys?”

  “Why the hell should I do that, please?”

  “Because we’d be happier if you called us by our names. I’m Sora. This is my sister, Shiro. Nice to meet you.”

  “…Nice to meet you…”

  “Understood, please. Nice to meet ya, please. Sora, Shiro.”

  Fluff fluff fluff…

  “—Gah, you won’t let your grampy touch you, but you’ll let the hairless monkeys, Izuna!”

  “Grampy…you suck; your claws hurt, please.”

  Sora laughed at Ino, who looked depressed at Izuna’s instant answer.

  “Heh-heh-heh… My sister is a master of Nintendogs, and I am a master of the touch-based erotic video game. For us, to pinpoint our touch based on her reactions is but a trifle. Ph34r the hand-eye coordination of the gamer, old man.”

  “…Not that…we have any…experience…with the real thing.”

  “Why you gotta kill it like that, huh?!”

  Sitting on the sofa, looking at the ceiling with an expression of rapture, Izuna, and, tense at the temples, Ino. On the other side of the table, Sora and Shiro, making four, sitting across from each other.

  “Well, then, may I inquire as to why you monkey bastards are here?”

  “You can read my thoughts, right; why do I have to say anything?”

  “This is a place of diplomacy, a place where words are exchanged orally or in writing; or is that too challenging for a monkey to understand?”

  “…Just because we’re better with your granddaughter than you are, old man, you don’t gotta get all pissy; jeez.”

  As Ino’s smile cracked, Jibril added, beaming:

  “Master, inadequacy is a central part of the soul of the Werebeast, as fragile as glasswork. Perhaps you might refrain from upsetting him unnecessarily. It is most pitiful.”

  Ino, his smile on the brink of finally breaking. Making up his mind that he should just blissfully forget everything and kick these asses out, he peered into Sora’s eyes.

  —That instant, an unexpected chill ran down Ino’s spine.

  What was there was not the silly wag who sat there just a moment ago. What was there was—full of confidence on the verge of arrogance, in the midst of ungodly calculation, and unmistakably—the king of a race.

  “My demand is simple—Ino Hatsuse.”

  Sora flashed a cheeky grin with this, and then said with gaze of seriousness.

  “Give me your daughter’s panties. I’ll give you Steph’s.”

  “—Excuse me?!”

  “Hey, monkey bastard, there’s a goddamn line you might not wanna cross!”

  Steph, tossed abruptly into the fire, and Ino shouted at the same time. But, as if it surprised him, Sora replied:

  “What, you don’t want Steph’s? Y
ou’d prefer Jibril’s?”

  “I have no qualms, be it the command of my master.”

  Just as Sora spoke, Jibril started peeling down her panties. Face-palming, squeezing out his voice as if trying to hold something back, Ino.

  “Hey, monkey. If you’re just here to be an asshole, get the—”

  “Wha, you can’t have Shiro’s; to desire an eleven-year-old’s panties, there’s something wrong with you, Gramps. Or—y-you wanted mine?! Uhh, wait, that’s… I mean, I’m a tolerant guy, but that does kinda gross me out…”

  To Ino, finally starting to lose it, still Sora.

  “Come on, Gramps, are you sure? I’m saying I’d make a deal just for Izuna’s panties?”

  “Look, you son of a bitch—if you’re not going to say what you’re really here for, then get the—”

  As Ino held his forehead as if he was getting a headache.

  —Sora, like a gambler who’d just made the haul of a century. Beaming ironically.

  “—Gramps, I hate to say it, but we know you’re just pretending to read minds.”

  Bip. From Ino came a reaction the human eye could scarcely detect, but more than enough for Sora.

  “If you’re not going to say what you’re really here for… Huh. That’s pretty good; it does make it sound like you’re reading my mind, but, if you could really read my mind, you’d have accepted a game for panties. ’Cos it wouldn’t really be about the stupid panties; it would be about the side effect, i.e.—

  “You’d never overlook the importance of erasing my memories that tell everything about the Eastern Union’s games.”

  To Sora’s words and insinuating smirk…

  “……”

  …Ino had no response but to stay expressionless. After all—. Yes, Sora’s pupils, heartbeat, even the sound of his blood flow. Every little thing told that the man here spoke with absolute conviction.

  “So, now that that’s confirmed, shall I get to your request and say what I’m really here for?”

  Crossing his legs, adjusting his posture, Sora.

  “In the names of the agent plenipotentiary of the kingdom of Elkia, last nation of Rank Sixteen, Immanity: Sora and Shiro.”