Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 4

by Blitz Kiva

  “No member of the Knights’ leadership will meet with the likes of you. Away with you at once!” The two of them seemed really into it.

  It was just as Ichiro was watching their amusing roleplay that a beautiful woman clad in white porcelain full plate mail stepped out, with almost practiced timing (indeed, it likely was practiced).

  “What is all the noise out here?” she asked, despite the fact that they weren’t actually making a lot of noise.

  “V-Vice Captain Tiramisu!”

  “Nothing, these ruffians were just...”

  Saint Tiramisu was a Paladin, and the lone female member of the Red Sunset Knights’ commander team. With her simply designed Celestial Armor, Sword, and Shield, and her appearance otherwise evoking the archetypal lady knight, she held considerable popularity among a quiet set of male players.

  Tiramisu looked at Ichiro and Kirschwasser, seeming to recognize them for the first time. “Mr. Tsuwabuki. What are you doing here?”

  “I wished to ask something, though it’s nothing of serious import,” said Ichiro.

  “I see. Well, come in, then,” Tiramisu said easily.

  The guards acted flustered. “Captain Tiramisu! Why are you letting these ruffians in?!”

  “Yes! This obvious rabble couldn’t possibly...”

  “Be quiet,” Saint Tiramisu snapped, scaring them both into silence. “These two are friends of the Knights’ commander. If you don’t know that... um... not knowing that... despite being a guard...”

  “How can someone entrusted with guarding...” the guard prompted.

  “Ah, right. How can someone entrusted with guarding this house not know that? Your ignorance shames you!”

  “Yes, ma’am, thank you!!”

  And so the strange farce ended. The two guards bowed deeply to Tiramisu. She smiled back with mild embarrassment, then turned again to Ichiro and Kirschwasser.

  “I’m sorry about that. Um, you want to see the boss?”

  “That’s right,” said Ichiro. “If we could talk to Stroganoff, that would be best, I think.”

  Led by Tiramisu, the two entered the Knights’ guild house.

  Unlike Iris Brand or the Akihabara Forging Guild, the interior of this house was richly decorated. Drop items acquired from previous great achievements hung on the walls as trophies, giving the hallway the air of a museum. The stained glass windows and red carpet lining the floor only deepened that impression.

  “Do you do that little skit every time?” Ichiro asked.

  “Ah, yes,” she said. “The guards like it...”

  “I see,” he answered. “Everyone has their own way of enjoying the game, don’t they?”

  This particular one seemed to enter the realm of fetish, but he avoided commenting on that. Ichiro couldn’t really understand it, but to dismiss things he couldn’t understand was nonsense. If those guards were happy, that was good enough for him.

  Guided by Tiramisu, Ichiro and Kirschwasser arrived in the deepest room in the guild house. Tiramisu knocked softly, then opened the door. Inside, Stroganoff, leader of the Red Sunset Knights, was poring over a map spread out across his desk.

  “Boss, visitors!” she announced.

  “Ah, Tiramisu. Good to see...” Stroganoff said as he raised his head.

  “Hey, it’s me,” said Ichiro.

  “T-Tsuwabuki?!” Stroganoff was a red-haired brute who stood over two meters tall. He had been given the appellation “the Monstrous.” Yet the giant man froze the instant he saw Ichiro. This was not roleplay, Ichiro thought, but his honest feelings. “What do you want?! There’s no grand boss here!”

  “Nonsense,” Ichiro said. Apparently, his stealing of their grand boss kill had been somewhat traumatic for the guild leader.

  Tiramisu stood next to Stroganoff and patted his shoulder. “Boss, boss...”

  “Ugh, s-sorry. I lost my head...”

  Ichiro was reminded of the man’s talk with Matsunaga during the council meeting. Despite his avatar’s appearance, he appeared to be quite a timid person.

  “Still, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Stroganoff said. “I need to log out for work soon, but what’s your business?”

  “Ah, of course. To get right to the point...” Ichiro assumed a pensive expression, then asked: “I was wondering if it might be Matsunaga’s group who are buying up the Warp Feathers.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t asked him directly, but I think you might be right.” Stroganoff’s answer came easily enough. “Just to let you know, we’re not involved. We have stocks of Warp Feathers, too, but they’re about the only ones who could do this. I’ve caught sight of Matsunaga’s guildmates in the shops of late, too, though I don’t know what their grand scheme might be.”

  “I see,” Ichiro said, nodding.

  Stroganoff’s Red Sunset Knights and Matsunaga’s Dual Serpents often cooperated—more precisely, the two guilds used each other—but it seemed that Stroganoff and Matsunaga, on a personal level, got along rather well.

  It was Matsunaga who had pushed the rumors of King Kirihito as the ultimate solo player, but it was also he who had pushed the Red Sunset Knights as the game’s greatest guild as they had expanded. Thanks to him, articles about the Knights were second only to those about King and those about Ichiro.

  There were no lengths Matsunaga wouldn’t go to to get a good story. And it probably wasn’t just him—while at a glance, the Dual Serpents appeared to be a one-man guild, it had a large membership that acted perfectly in sync. They were like-minded individuals who had come together in the name of a united purpose.

  Ever since the Nem incident at the beach the other day, Matsunaga had seemed to be highly involved in how things were playing out. He had behaved this way during the King Kirihito incident, too, facilitating things behind the scenes to make the contents of his articles more dramatic.

  That, alone, was not a problem. However...

  “Tsuwabuki, are you lacking Warp Feathers?” Stroganoff offered, peering into Ichiro’s face. “Well, you could ask Matsunaga, too, but I’ll lend you some from our store, if you like.”

  “No, that’s not the case,” said Ichiro. “Thank you.”

  “I see. That’s fine, then.” Stroganoff did seem to be a very good person, not the sort to be complicit in Matsunaga’s schemes. “By the way, I heard you were playing shogi on the beach recently, Sir Kirschwasser. I’d like to have a game with you some time.”

  “As a matter of fact, Iris has been beating me lately.” Kirschwasser spoke the shocking truth very lightly, and even Ichiro was surprised.

  Stroganoff’s brow wrinkled, as well. “That girl? I wouldn’t expect it, to be honest.”

  “Apparently her late grandfather taught her how to play,” said Kirschwasser.

  “She’s the type to show talent in the areas you’d least expect.” Of course, the tragedy was that she showed no promise in the area she worked hardest in.

  “Oh, I heard that Iris was going to be having a fashion competition against Nem,” Tiramisu, who had been quiet up until now, interjected.

  Kirschwasser nodded. “Yes. Are you interested?”

  “Matsunaga spoke to me about it,” Tiramisu said. “He asked if I wanted to be a judge.”

  “Judge?” Kirschwasser asked.

  That was right. Sorceress had mentioned something about inviting judges. He had assumed that they would try to stack the deck there, but there was no sign that the Knights would be partial to Nem. It was likely just to drum up word of mouth, then.

  But the fact that Matsunaga was rounding up judges suggested that he was certainly involved in the matter behind the scenes. The question was just to what degree he was taking Nem’s side.

  Ichiro closed his eyes, thinking back to what Megumi Fuyo had said at the party the other day. “I must defeat Iris with my own power. I do not want anyone interfering, either.”

  And then what Iris had said. “This is between me and her. You may not offer your help or your money, and I can’t
ask for them.”

  At least those two were in clear agreement. Without arranging anything beforehand, they had quietly come to the same conclusion. They were linked by an inviolable pact to preserve the purity of the competition. That was why Ichiro had said to Megumi that he was relieved to hear her words.

  “What nonsense.” It was probably a predictable line, but Ichiro still had to say it.

  Kirschwasser nodded as if he’d figured something out, too. Only Stroganoff was left confused.

  “Did I miss something?” he asked.

  “It’s nothing you need be concerned about,” said Ichiro. “If you wish to play shogi, you should come to Iris Brand. I’m sure you’d be welcome.”

  “Heh,” said Stroganoff. “Tsuwabuki, let me warn you. In my youth, I was feared in the local shogi halls as Sergei of the Fourth File Rook.”

  With that last, strange comment, Stroganoff the Monstrous logged out to go to work. It seemed he really was the owner of some kind of restaurant.

  Kirschwasser whispered, “If his real name is Sergei, is he Russian, perhaps?”

  “But ‘shogi halls’ suggests that he was raised in Japan,” Ichiro responded.

  It was quite the yawn-inducing mystery.

  “He’s apparently half-Russian, half-Japanese, and spent his life in Russia up until middle school, then moved to Yamanashi,” Tiramisu said.

  “I-I see...” Kirschwasser murmured. Tiramisu’s answer solved the mystery, but since it didn’t matter to begin with, it wasn’t terribly satisfying.

  At the least, their business was completed, so they said their goodbyes to Tiramisu and left the guild house.

  Kirschwasser seemed to want to leave some sort of comment, perhaps feeling bad about barely interacting with Stroganoff the whole time. But unable to think of anything, he simply said to Ichiro, walking one step behind him, “I think we’ll have beef stroganoff tonight,”

  And that was enough to put an end to it.

  “Congratulations, Airi!” the campaign girl cried, holding out a brown envelope.

  “Ohh!” Airi burst out.

  After a seemingly interminable eight hours playing the mysterious mascot character, Airi was at last reaching the end of her hellish day. She wanted to get home and take a shower, to wash off every drop of sweat that clung to her body.

  At least, that had been her primary thought, right up to the moment that she took that envelope in her hands. Then, in that moment, she was struck by the illusion (though it was definitely only an illusion) that the beads of sweat covering her body were really precious jewels.

  After a day of hard work that had made her wish she were dead, Airi had earned a massive 15,000 yen. It was a tremendous amount of money for a high school girl to earn in a day.

  She was tired, suffering, hot, nauseous, and stinky, but she had survived it all, and that small, crisp envelope was the proof.

  Airi clutched it in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ll treasure it all my life!”

  “No, you have to spend it,” said the campaign girl.

  That was right. It was money. She did have to spend it. This was her war chest, nothing more. She would use this money to complete her new fashion armor design, and meet Nem, a.k.a. Megumi Fuyo, in their duel. She had to use the 15,000 yen to make that happen.

  But would it be enough?

  That faint shadow of doubt remained, hanging over Airi’s heart.

  Fifteen thousand yen was a lot of money. But Airi had converted countless hundreds of components into scrap when creating Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s armor. She had never actually asked how much Ichiro had ended up spending in the process.

  Actually, it would be more correct to say that she had once asked him him, feeling it was her duty to know the amount. But the minute she’d seen the details, her pulse had skyrocketed, she’d been surrounded by physiological alarm messages, and the game had automatically logged her out. And as a result, she couldn’t remember what it had been.

  She had this 15,000 yen, and the small amount of New Year’s money left in her savings account. She had to successfully create the armor using that money alone.

  Airi steeled her resolve.

  “Airi, you look like you’re about to march into battle,” the angelic campaign girl said with an expression of awe.

  Airi was grateful to her, too. If she hadn’t been so sociable with her cleavage on display, Airi never would have realized how it caught men’s eyes.

  “I do think you have talent for wearing mascot costumes, Airi...” the girl said.

  “Thank you very much,” Airi said. “But I have other dreams.”

  Airi Kakitsubata was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up.

  There was a road of thorns she had to walk to make it to that dream. These were the first steps down that road. Soon, she was going to be marching into battle against the person she most admired.

  In the back of her mind, Airi was formulating her design. It was a refreshing feeling to have a clear image in her mind of what she wanted to make. Airi knew this alone was not the formula for success, though. She had to put form to the image immediately.

  “Well, I’ve gotta go!” Airi called.

  Airi said goodbye to the angelic campaign girl, and to the old campaign manager who had barely said anything, then left the site of her first real part-time job behind.

  She had total confidence in the image she was drawing up in her mind. She was starting to get excited. Of course, it was a known fact of life that the things you create in the heat of the moment often result in terrible work when you look back on it later... but Airi lacked the creative experience to realize this.

  “Wow, you’re gonna wear Ai’s design, Felicia?” Yuri asked.

  After returning from Sera Kiryu’s house, Asuha tried to get to work on the homework she had let pile up at her desk, but after ten minutes, she had given up and retreated into the world of NaroFan. She was currently leveling up with her party and chatting, and Yuri had shown interest in the topic of Iris.

  Her party currently consisted of Felicia, Yuri, Kirihito (Leader), and Edward. It was unusual to have a party of all physical classes, but the high-level Kirihito (Leader) and Edward were able to create openings so that Felicia and Yuri could have lots of fun. The two of them had seemed to have nothing to do in Glasgobara, so the girls had invited them out.

  “I actually had lots to do...” Edward murmured, sulkily.

  “Come on, Mr. Edward,” said Kirihito (Leader). “You don’t get many chances to play with real middle school- and college-aged girls.”

  “That may be true, but I wouldn’t be as obvious as you about it,” Edward groused. The two, who had never met before, seemed to be getting along surprisingly well.

  Yuri and Iris continued to talk, occasionally casting a glance over at the men. They still had quite a bit of time before the Living Shimeji respawned.

  “When Ai first started playing, she didn’t talk about her hobby a lot,” said Yuri.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Felicia found herself leaning forward with interest. Yuri’s own tone was a bit hesitant.

  Felicia had heard the reason why Iris had first started playing NaroFan. She attended a school for design, but she hadn’t been able to take being compared to her more talented classmates, and it had made her want to escape into the game.

  Felicia’s experience with her friend Sera had taught her that “escape” wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; the question was whether or not it would lead to growth.

  At first, Iris hadn’t been willing to talk to her fellow guild members like Yuri about her circumstances, but Yuri had gradually begun to piece them together.

  “Not having enough talent to do what you want to your satisfaction can be hard,” Yuri explained. “I know the feeling pretty well.”

  “Did you go through that, too, Yuri?” Felicia asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I di
d,” Yuri agreed fairly readily. “Being judged on your talent can be a cruel thing. You can work hard to compensate for a lack of it, but it takes a lot of energy.”

  Her words seemed to have the weight of experience behind them, so Felicia didn’t pry any further. Yuri probably had her own worries and things she was struggling with. Felicia had heard that she did karate, and that she had gone to the national tournament in high school; the fact that she was tight-lipped about the experience beyond that spoke volumes in and of itself.

  “I wonder if I’ll face a setback, too, someday,” Felicia murmured.

  “That’s a good question. It’s sort of a rite of passage, in a way,” Edward whispered, apparently overhearing their conversation.

  “Have you ever faced a setback, Mr. Edward?” Felicia asked.

  “I’ve had quite a few failures in my time,” Edward admitted smoothly as he looked up.

  Beside him, Kirihito (Leader) nodded. “But even if you fail, you just have to stand up again. In an arcade, a continue costs 100 yen, but recovering from a setback in real life costs you nothing. It’s quite a bargain by comparison.”

  “Mr. Leader, you sound like Kiryuhito,” said Felicia.

  “I do?! That makes me so happy!!”

  It reminded Felicia that King Kirihito could also qualify as a person who had successfully bounced back from a setback. The face of her classmate, whom she had seen earlier that day, rose up in her mind.

  “That respawn is taking a while, huh?” Edward whispered as Kirihito (Leader) began dancing excitedly.

  “You want to go home?” Yuri asked.

  “It’s up to you two,” Edward responded. “We’re just along for the ride.”

  Yuri turned her eyes to Felicia, who fell deep into thought.

  “Hmm, I think I’d like to go,” Felicia said at last. “What about you, Leader?”

  Kirihito (Leader) abruptly stopped dancing. “It would be nice to pass over the meadow and go to the beach, but... without any Warp Feathers...”

  It turned out that his allies, The Kirihitters, were currently in the area near the beach and Starter Town. They were keeping in frequent contact, and he would have liked to join them, but it was a long way to walk all alone. There was something terribly lonely about the sight of Kirihito (Leader) without his usual gang.