by Sakon Kaidou
“Why are you here, anyway?” I asked him. “To say hi and buy some new gear, I assume?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Not just for me and Babi, either. I found out that I can get weapons for Marilyn and Audrey, as well. Also, we went hunting yesterday, so I have some drops to sell.”
So there’s monster gear here, too, huh? I thought. This shop sure has a wide variety of items.
“Hunting, eh?” I said. “What level are you now?”
“48,” he answered.
...H-He’s about to reach the maximum level a low-rank job can get, I thought. It’s almost two times greater than my level. How am I supposed to feel about this?
“Looks like someone got real busy during the day I was offline...” I muttered.
I could only assume that having Marilyn and Audrey had made his hunting that much more effective. Heck, Rook and Babi were absolute terrors in large-scale battles by themselves.
“I’m about to reach level 50, so I’ll have to start working towards switching to a high-rank job soon,” said Rook.
“Do you have anything in mind?” I asked.
“Yes, I did my research and found out that a Pimp’s high-rank job is called the ‘Lost Heart,’” he answered.
Lost Heart, eh? I thought. It was a reference to the Japanese word used to describe a person who’d lost all the eight virtues as they were presented in works such as The Eight Dog Chronicles. The term also referred to people who managed brothels. Quite the unique naming choice.
“Here are the requirements.” Rook took out a Catalog and showed me the Lost Heart’s page.
Requirement no. 1: Reach level 50 as Pimp.
Requirement no. 2: The sum total of all underling female monster and slave stats must be above a certain point.
Requirement no. 3: The total money gained by making the underling female monsters and slaves work must be above 1,000,000 lir.
“I see,” I said. Unlike Paladin, it didn’t have any requirements that involved human relations or some special victories. In fact, everything could be achieved by simply playing Pimp for a certain amount of time. These requirements could’ve been one of the reasons why it wasn’t classified as a battle-focused job.
Even though Rook makes it look far more formidable than most battle jobs, I thought.
“I’m about to reach level 50, and the second requirement is already fulfilled,” said Rook. “The third one is gonna take a while, though.”
“Yeah, that seems like a lot of work,” I agreed.
Is it even possible for a Pimp to make money by using creatures such as Marilyn and Audrey? I thought.
“I feel like they would be very efficient in construction sites,” said Rook.
I said, “I think that one of the retro games my brother owns had some tamed monster running around a construction site... Hm?”
I belatedly noticed that Rook was wearing a different outfit than he had yesterday. It was a coat that seemed to emit a strange, silver shine.
Well, this looks new, I thought.
“That’s an awesome-looking coat, Rook,” I said. The details on the décor were elaborate, and the metallic gleam was damn cool.
Its sleeves had different lengths, which made it seem very stylish, and Rook — handsome as he was — made it all come together in the best of ways. He hadn’t been wearing it yesterday, so I could only assume that he’d gotten it while I was offline.
“Oh, yes. I like Liz a lot,” he said.
Enough to give it a name? I raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly, the coat seemed to move in an unnatural manner. I had no idea why, but the movement seemed somehow happy.
While doing this and that, I finished choosing everything I needed. Since I was going to wear the Miasmaflame Bracers no matter what, I didn’t go for set armors like the Riot series items.
In my case, one of the most important pieces of equipment was the chest armor, and since Rook looked really cool in that coat of his, I went for a coat-type piece, as well. It had the name "Blaze Metal Scale Coat."
It was created by taking a coat made from the skins of red, wolf-type monsters and strengthening it with many metal scales. It had two skills on it — “Fire Affinity” and “Fire Resistance.” The former increased the damage of my fire-based attacks by 10%, while the other reduced the damage I took from fire by the same amount, giving it good synergy with Purgatorial Flames. Sure, it was a luxury item that’d cost me a whole 80,000 lir, but I had no regrets about choosing it.
I got some other equipment to go with it and made my way to the counter to buy it all.
“Eh?” Right next to the counter, there was a device you’d often see in reality.
It was a rectangular case with many round capsules inside it and a lever on its side. By putting money inside it, you could pull on the lever and make one of the capsules pop out.
It was basically a gacha vending machine.
◇
Gacha vending machines had existed since long before I was born.
I could remember when I used to go to the machines dedicated to my favorite anime or games, pop in 100 yen, pull the lever, and get a random toy related to those series. It was fun because you never knew what you were going to get, and because of that, those memories were dear to me.
However, in-game gacha machines were a completely different beast.
Some time ago, there used to be a game genre known as “social games.” They could be played on mobile devices and PC browsers, and you could start them without paying any money whatsoever.
Social games were many and varied. Some were fantasy games with equipment systems, while others revolved around monster growing, robot squad creation, or even idol producer work. The games were free, but if the players wished to get high-quality weapons, armor, monsters, robots, or idols, they had to pay additional money.
The most popular method of distributing such treasures was the real money gacha machine. For about 300 yen, the player could pull the virtual machine’s lever and get a random item. The items had levels of rarity, and the rarest items of all had the lowest chances of popping out.
Rarity was often related to quality, too. To either win at the games, boast to others, or simply to enjoy their idols, the players would pull the lever. They would do it over and over until they got what they wanted.
However, it was all just data. The companies would never lose anything, no matter how many high-quality, high-rarity pulls the players got. Many players’ desire to get the good stuff only increased with every bad thing they pulled, making them throw even more money at the game.
As a result, there had been many players who would spend 100,000 yen on the games every month. Some would even go above and beyond and break the 1,000,000 barrier.
It had been a very real, very dark time, indeed...
◇
With that in mind, the gacha before me takes lir instead of real money, so it’s not a big deal if I pull it once or twice, right? I thought.
“...I see that all those thoughts just now were nothing but a big excuse to do it,” said Nemesis.
“Well, yeah, I want to pull it, after all,” I said. I really enjoyed the excitement involved in pulling on gachas and buying random card packs.
All right, back to the thing before me... I thought and looked at the machine. Though its shape was familiar, there were several differences between it and the gachas I knew.
First of all, it was possible to choose the amount of money you wanted to put in. There was a short line before it, and I noticed that some threw single 100 lir coins, while others went in with as much as 10,000 lir.
According to the explanation on the machine, the items that could pop out had rarities from S to F.
Rank C items were worth as much as the money put in.
Rank F — the lowest rank — items were worth only 1% of the money put in.
Rank S — the highest rank — items were worth 100+ times more than the money put in.
The minimum amou
nt of money you could put in was 100 lir, while the maximum was 100,000.
As was natural, low risk meant low reward and high risk meant high reward.
“But doesn’t that make it hard to keep track of the items inside and manage the quality of what pops out?” I asked an employee, and the answer I got was one I’d never have expected.
“It doesn’t work the way you think,” she said. “While it is true that we manage this magic item itself, we have nothing to do with the prizes inside or the money used on it.”
According to her, this gacha machine had originally been a rare item found in the Tomb Labyrinth.
It wasn’t a one-of-a-kind, either. There were records of other people getting these, and some had tried to take them apart and take the prizes by force. Apparently, the effort involved was insane, and yet those who succeeded had found out that the inside of the machine was completely empty.
Thus, everyone had begun to assume that the money offered to it made the machine magically summon an appropriate item. And since it was impossible to retrieve the money used, the gacha definitely wasn’t a part of any successful business model.
“However, the owner believes that it works to attract customers, so we keep it here for everyone’s convenience,” said the employee. “We also made it a rule that only paying customers can use it.”
A wise decision, indeed, for it created a decent flow of money from those who only came here for the machine. I now had no doubts that Alejandro was highly skilled as a manager.
“How did he come to have it, anyway?” I asked.
“When its previous owner ran out of money, he had to part with a lot of property,” she said. “This was among the items, and our owner bought it.”
“...And the reason for the previous owner going broke was...?”
“...Exactly what you imagine,” she said.
So he went broke because he pulled on this thing a bit too much, huh? I thought. That might’ve been another reason why Alejandro was using it for nothing more but attracting customers.
Anyway, I’d grown interested in the gacha machine, so I thanked the employee that told me about it and took my place at the end of the line.
“So, how much do you plan on spending?” asked Nemesis.
“100,000 li—GUH!”
The moment I answered, she hit me with a blow to my stomach. It came from a really good angle, so it actually made me bend forward.
“How can you let yourself use such a great amount of money right after hearing about someone who lost it all because of it?!” she exclaimed.
“I-I know that 100,000 lir is a lot, but I might pull something really good if I’m lucky...” I said.
“This reeks of a scenario where you get something worthless, if you ask me.”
Well, if something like that happens, we’ll have something to look back at and laugh about later down the line, I thought.
She sighed. “I hope you don’t regret this.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” I said.
Soon enough, it was my turn, so I put ten 10,000 lir coins into the gacha. Once done with that, I pulled the lever, making the machine release a single capsule. The thing had the letter C on it. According to the explanation, the thing inside had the same value as the money I’d put in, so it wasn’t a loss.
Excitedly, I opened the capsule and made the item inside it pop out.
Tomb Labyrinth Exploration Permit.
Seeing the familiar item made me drop to my knees.
“Ohh... nooooooo...” I groaned. I could almost hear the thing greet me with a smug “Hey there! it’s been a while!”
“Oh dear, a double,” said Nemesis.
Well yeah, it’s worth 100,000 lir, but... but I... I moaned silently.
“Rook... take it,” I said, presenting the paper to him.
“Are you sure? Isn’t this a decent pull?” he asked.
“It is, but I already have one, and you don’t need more than one...”
Hell, being a Paladin, I don’t need even one... I thought.
“Th-Thank you,” Rook said gratefully. “Umm, shall we go explore it sometime?”
“That’s a good idea...” I replied with little enthusiasm. It really was a good idea, though, since I hadn’t gone beyond the first floor there.
All right, time to pull myself together, and...
“One more,” I said.
“Haven’t you learned your lesson?!” exclaimed Nemesis.
“Come on! There’s no way I’ll get another one of the Permits! I’m sure I’ll pull something good this time!” I said.
“That’s what every gambler thinks before losing it all!”
Despite Nemesis’ disapproval, I stood in the line again and got ready for a second try.
Like last time, I went with 100,000 lir. Considering the total cost of the equipment I was buying, this was my last chance.
I pulled on the lever while praying to God, Buddha, or whatever was listening.
And the result was...
“...What?” I raised an eyebrow.
The capsule had popped out as normal, but the rarity displayed on it wasn’t even in the range of S to F.
It simply said “X.”
Is this above S? Or is the X actually a cross that makes it as worse than F? I was thoroughly confused. There was a little warning on it, saying, “Open only in spacious areas.” I asked an employee about it, and she said that warning appeared on any capsules that contained something large, like a carriage. That meant that this capsule had something sizable inside it.
Also, the employee said that this was the first time she’d ever seen a capsule with X rarity on it.
I have no idea how to feel about that, I thought.
Whatever the case, since I could only open it in spacious areas, I chose not to open it inside the shop. I kept it in capsule form and placed it inside my inventory.
Okay, now that I’ve calmed down, there’s something to consider, I thought.
One pull had cost me 100,000 lir.
My new equipment had a combined cost of 110,000 lir.
...That comparison made me aware of just how expensive the pulls were. In terms of rarity, I hadn’t really experienced a loss, but I couldn’t help but feel off.
“That’s what you get for gambling away 200,000 lir,” said Nemesis.
I was in no position to say anything to that.
By the time I finished buying my equipment, Rook was trying his own luck on the gacha.
Apparently, seeing me try it got him interested, too.
“...You didn’t really have to copy the amount of money I used, though,” I muttered. Hoping that his 100,000 wouldn’t go to waste, I looked at what he got, and...
And, uh... Huh?
Silence overwhelmed the entire shop. The shock was shared by everyone inside, except Rook.
Nemesis, I, the employees, and the other customers were all at a loss for words.
The capsule in Rook’s hand was rainbow-patterned.
It seemed to be made from a mineral so vivid that it looked like a rare item by itself.
Its surface had a large S on it.
Rook had actually pulled something great on his first try.
“Ah, Ray! I think I got something good!” he said.
“C-Congratulations!” My shock made me unintentionally raise my voice.
“Rook, let’s hurry up and open it!” Babi cried.
“Y-Yes! Let’s find out what you have received!” Nemesis agreed.
Since he’d used 100,000 lir, and the value of an S rarity prize was 100 times greater, the item inside should be worth 100,000,000 lir.
Naturally, something that amazing interested not only us, but the shop employees and other customers, as well.
Rook’s capsule didn’t have any warnings on it, so he opened it on the spot.
What came out was a pair of gloves, long enough to cover the elbows. Made from a blue, leather-like material, they were decorated by an intricate pattern
of golden metal.
“‘Touch of the Silencer, Veltboule’?” Rook’s mutter made me tilt my head.
That naming style was similar to the one on my special reward — “Miasmaflame Bracers, Gardranda.” Such special rewards should be impossible to gain without defeating an UBM, and there was no way to transfer them to others, either.
“...Whoa,” Rook said. He was looking at the details of the item — Touch of the Silencer, Veltboule — and couldn’t hide his amazement. His face was downright stiff, and it was probably the first time I’d seen him make such an expression.
“So, what kind of item is it, Rook?” I asked.
Looking around, I noticed that some customers — likely Masters and tians with a high Identification skill — seemed as dumbfounded as Rook was.
Okay, now I’m dying to know more about it, I thought.
“Basically, this is an MVP special reward for defeating a UBM,” he said.
“Are you serious?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” he answered. “Let me tell you the details elsewhere.”
After he said that, Rook and I left the shop. As I walked away, I glanced back inside and saw that the line for the gacha had gotten longer and that just about everyone was preparing 100,000 lir.
Apparently, finding out that you could pull UBM special rewards had gotten them all hyped up.
...I hope no one goes broke, I thought.
◇
The place Rook took me to was the room he’d rented at the inn. Rook had clearly learned something that couldn’t be heard by other people.
“Basically, this is a special reward that no longer has an owner,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He explained.
First of all, standard special rewards could only be used by the owner and couldn’t be transferred to other people in any way.
However, there was one exception to this rule... and it happened when the owner was a tian who died.
In such cases, the special reward would be automatically retrieved from the body and become either an ultra rare drop in the deeper levels of created dungeons or — as it had been in this case — a high-risk gacha prize.
From that, I could easily understand why he’d gotten all secretive about it.