No Game No Life, Vol. 1

by Yuu Kamiya

  “Hmm, play for dominion… Some interesting things you’ve got going on here.”

  So said the hooded young man. Following the hooded girl’s lead, the young man took an interest in the proceedings in the tavern, peering in.

  “—So, what, are those girls eligible to be the future queen?”

  “—Hmmm? I’m not sure ‘eligible’ is the right word. Anyone of Immanity may enter.”

  “But—” he added as he turned his gaze into the tavern.

  —They were playing poker. Didn’t she know the term “poker face”? With a glance at the redhead, who was glaring at her hand as if she would groan audibly any second, the man spoke.

  “The redhead is Stephanie Dola—she’s part of the bloodline of the former king. The way the will is written, if someone not of royal blood takes the crown, she’ll lose everything, so she’s aiming to put herself on the throne.”

  “After that king brought us humans to such ruin, that his family should struggle so hard…” The man added this and sighed. It was a blunt explanation of the excitement inside.

  “Hm…mm…”

  “Hmm… ‘Play for dominion’—even national borders are decided by games, eh.”

  The hooded girl and young man muttered their thoughts to each other. The girl impressed. The young man amused.

  “So, that’s how it is: it’s a free-for-all gambling tournament.”

  “…Free-for-all?”

  “Basically, any Immanity who wishes to stand for the crown may speak up and challenge his rivals to a game, by any means he sees fit. He who loses shall be stripped of his right, and he who stands left at the end shall be king.”

  —Well, well, these rules were easy to understand. Excellent. Still, the hooded young man asked doubtfully:

  “…Sounds pretty casual. Is that really going to work?”

  “It is, after all, a play for dominion under the Ten Covenants, which promise that each may wager whatever each agrees is of equal value, playing according to any rules—anyone may contest anyone at anything at any time.”

  “…No, well, that’s not exactly what I meant.”

  As the hooded young man muttered suggestively, he peered once more into the tavern. The girl muttered to him:

  “…No wonder she’s losing.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  As the two conversed, the young man drew a rectangular object from his pocket. He faced it toward the inside of the tavern and manipulated something, and there was a sound: snap.

  —And the middle-aged man grinned.

  “So, lad? Do you really have room to worry about other’s battles?”

  With that, the man opened his hand flat.

  “Full house. Sorry about that.”

  Sure of his victory—and thinking of what would come after, the man raised a filthy smile.

  —But the hooded youth. As if never interested from the start. As if he had just remembered now.

  “Huh? Ohh, yeah, sorry, that’s right.”

  As the youth carelessly opened his hand, the middle-aged man’s eyes opened wide.

  “A r-royal flush?!”

  The youth had been holding the strongest hand in the game without so much as a peep. The man stood up and shouted.

  “Y-you…you think you can pull one over on me?!”

  “Whaa… Come on, don’t be rude… What basis do you have for saying that?

  The youth blithely slid out his chair and stood up. The man pressed further.

  “The odds of a royal flush are one in 650,000! How could that happen?”

  “It just happened to be that one in 650,000 today. Bad luck, old man.”

  The youth slipped out the words and held out his hand.

  “Now, shall I accept the promised wager?”

  “Damn it!”

  Clucking, the man held out his purse, and then another pouch.

  “The Sixth of the Ten Covenants: ‘Wagers sworn by the Covenants are absolutely binding’—fine, good game.”

  “…Thanks…Pops.”

  As the hooded young man calmly left his chair, and the girl nodded her head and chased after him, the fuzzy man watched them go into the tavern, and an apparent friend of his approached him.

  “Ho, I was watching the whole time, but did you really bet all you had on you?”

  “Aahh… Mercy me, how will I pay the bills…”

  “But, wait, back up. You bet the money you need for your bills? What damn wager did your opponent make?”

  The fuzzy man sighed and answered with a look of disinterest.

  “That I could do whatever I wanted with them.”

  “Wha—”

  “I did think it sounded too good to be true…but they seemed unworldly, and I thought it might… What?”

  “No, I mean…which are you?”

  “—Come again?”

  “I mean…a fruit or a pedo? Either one is…well…”

  “Wha—h-hey, wait!”

  “Oh, relax; I won’t tell your wife. Just buy me a meal!”

  “It’s—it’s not like that! And, anyway, I just lost all the money I had! And, to begin with—”

  ……

  “…Brother…that’s not fair.”

  “Huh? What’s your problem?”

  “…You intentionally…cheated, in such an obvious way.”

  —Yes, just as the man had said. A royal flush was a hand that could hardly ever happen. Laying out a hand like that was tantamount to declaring that one had cheated. But—

  “The Eighth of the Ten Covenants—‘If cheating is discovered in a game, it shall be counted as a loss—’ ”

  The young man mumbled the rules of this world he had just learned as if to confirm them.

  “—In other words, as long as it’s not discovered, you can cheat. Isn’t it great we confirmed this?”

  Suggesting that he was just trying it out as a casual experiment, he stretched.

  “Welp, now we’ve got some war funds.”

  “…Brother… Do you understand the money here?”

  “How am I supposed to understand it? But don’t worry; this is what your brother does best.”

  They talked so as not to be heard by the fuzzy man and his apparent friend. And, meanwhile, they entered the tavern-inn.

  Ignoring the table at the center where the crowd still hooted over the match, they approached the counter. The hooded young man dropped the pouch and purse with a thud on the counter and asked slowly:

  “So. Two people, one room, one bed is fine. How many nights can we stay?”

  A man who appeared to be the master. A glance. A moment’s hesitation, and then:

  “…That’ll be one night, with board.”

  But the hooded young man responded coyly—smiling, except with his eyes.

  “Aha-haa… Look here, Mister, we’ve been up for five days and just had to walk enough to kill us for the first time in a long time; we’re exhausted, you know? Can you just cut to the chase and tell us how many nights, really?”

  “—What?”

  “I mean, if you want to try to swindle people you think are some bumpkins who don’t know the value of money here, that’s up to you, but let me just give you the tip that when you’re lying, you should watch the direction you look and the tone of your voice, okay?”

  —Sharpening his gaze to see through everything, the young man spoke with a smile. With a line of cold sweat and a cluck, the master answered:

  “Tsk. It’s two nights.”

  “And there you go again… Well, let’s split the difference and say ten nights with three meals.”

  “What! What difference are you splitting?! Fine—fine—it’s three nights with board; it’s true!”

  “Oh, is that so? Then give us a discount and make it five nights with board.”

  “Wha—”

  “Come on, you can treat us with some of that money you’re embezzling as you rip off customers, right?

  “Wha—wait—how—”

  �
��You’re the master of the tavern, not the inn, right? I’ll be happy to rat you out.”

  Smiling wanly, but playing dirty, this young man. The master strained his face and answered.

  “You’ve got an innocent face, but a dirty disposition, kid… Fine, four nights with three meals; how’s that?”

  “Great; it’s been a pleasure.”

  The young man smiled and took the room key.

  “You go up to the third floor, all the way back, and it’s on your left. Hff… What’s your name?”

  Looking in a sour mood, the master took out the register. The hooded young man answered.

  “Hmm… Just leave it blank.”

  Sora spun the key he’d received around his finger. He thumped his hand onto the back of his sister, who was watching the table where all the match excitement was happening.

  “Hey, I got four nights. Sing praise upon your brother and his—what’s up?”

  Shiro was staring at Stepha…whatever her name was, the redhead the fuzzy man had been talking about. She was still suffering, and still showing it clearly on her face, so much so that it was hard to imagine she might still think she could win.

  “…That one’s—gonna lose.”

  “Well, yeah. So?”

  If she showed her emotions on her face so obviously, there was no way she could win regardless of her draw. Perhaps the fuzzy man was right when he suggested that the blood of the royal family was stupid. As Sora pondered this—he realized.

  “—Oh—”

  He realized the true meaning of his sister’s words and opened his mouth.

  “Aagh, I get it… That’s scary…”

  “…Mm.”

  Sora murmured and Shiro nodded, looking at the black-haired girl.

  “Now, that’s… This world’s cheats are amazing. I don’t wanna go up against that…”

  “…Put to shame…”

  Sora, apparently irked by these words, argued defensively.

  “Hng, don’t be stupid. It’s not how leet your cheats are; it’s how you use them.”

  “…Brother, can you beat that?”

  “—But this really is a fantasy world… It doesn’t quite click; I mean, it kind of feels too natural… Maybe I really have played too many games?”

  Not bothering to answer his sister’s question, Sora was already walking up to the third floor.

  “……Dumb question…never mind.”

  This was Shiro’s apology.

  That’s right: For “ ,” loss was inconceivable.

  And…on their way. Passing Ste…whatever her name was, the redhead—for some reason. On a whim, quietly—Sora whispered.

  “…Ma’am, you know you’re being hoodwinked, right?”

  “Huh?”

  She rounded the blue eyes that contrasted with her red hair, agape. Having had their say, they went up to the third floor, feeling the dumbfounded gaze of the girl on their backs…Even so, they left it at that, proceeding to their room without looking back—.

  Turning the key, hearing the creaking of the shaky fittings, they looked beyond the opened door. The room inside—was a cheap-looking wooden room like ones they’d seen in Obl*vion and Skyr*m. The floor squeaked with footsteps, and the room was small. In the corner was a sad excuse for a table with seating. Otherwise, there was a bed and a window. That summed up this most basic of interiors.

  They entered the room, locked the door, and finally took off their hoods.

  The young man in just a T-shirt with jeans and sneakers, with messy black hair—Sora. The small girl in a sailor suit with red eyes hidden by long, frizzy, pure white hair—Shiro. Throwing off the robe he’d borrowed so as not to stand out with his appearance most unfamiliar to this world, Sora, as if finally relieved, flopped down on the lone bed. He took his phone out of his pocket—and put a check mark in his task scheduler.

  “Objective: Find lodging… Achieved.—That’s that. I can say it now, right?”

  “…Mm. I think so.”

  After checking, he let out from his heart a single statement, full of the essence of woot.

  “Aaaahh, so tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrred……”

  Seriously… He’d decided that he wouldn’t say it until now. And now that the dam was broken, Sora’s grousing started flooding out unstoppably.

  “I can’t believe this shit! Not only did we actually have to go outside for once, we had to walk, like, forever!”

  Shiro followed his lead in finally taking off her robe, and she patted out the wrinkles on her sailor suit. She opened the window and looked out. From the open window, she could just see the cliff where they had been—far in the distance.

  “…People can accomplish great things, when they want to.”

  “Yeah, you can’t do anything when you don’t feel like it—that’s a great way of expressing our reality.”

  A rather negative interpretation—but his sister nodded in assent.

  “But, man, I totally thought my legs had atrophied by now. I’m surprised I could walk that far.”

  “…’Cos you were using mice with your feet?”

  “Ohh, yeah! It’s really true that skills are transferable!”

  “…Not designed…to be transferred, this way.”

  Their comedy routine seemed to be approaching its limits. Shiro’s eyes started to close more than halfway. The sister wobbled dizzily down onto the bed onto which Sora had collapsed. She didn’t express it on her face, but the pain of her fatigue could be felt clearly from her breathing.

  —Well, that was as it should be. She may have been a genius girl, but she was still a lass of only eleven. After five days without sleep, she’d played the chess match and gone on a forced march that was continuous save for spells of unconsciousness—she’d traveled a distance even Sora found grueling (albeit on Sora’s back toward the end) without a word of complaint, and that much was worthy of wonder. For that reason itself, Sora had decided not to complain until now.

  “Good job. You’re such a good little girl, my sister; your brother’s so proud of you.”

  He stroked her hair as if to comb it.

  “……Mm. We got a place…to sleep.”

  “Yeah, when we were attacked by those bandits, I really didn’t know what would happen.”

  —With that, Sora thought back to a few hours earlier. In other words…when they first found themselves stranded in this world.

  “—Well, then, what shall we do?”

  Sora spoke, and Shiro shook her head. They’d come back from their second spell of unconsciousness. Sora had shouted and ranted about the absurdity of life. Shiro had spaced all the way out and let out one sigh after another. Seeming to finally grow weary of this, they regained their composure in the midst of their fatigue. They got away from the cliff and sat down beside a simple road that hadn’t even been paved.

  “…Brother, why here?”

  “You know, in RPGs, they always have these big roads? Where people pass by…”

  It was questionable how far his knowledge from games would apply. But anyway.

  “—So, this is where we check what we have.”

  Sora had a feeling that was always what they did in survival stories. With only that wisdom, they took out their items from their pockets one after another. What came out: Two smartphones (Sora’s and Shiro’s). Two DSP handheld game consoles. Two modular spare batteries, two solar chargers, two multicharger cables. And the tablet Shiro had ended up carrying along with her—

  …A wealth of equipment not at all befitting castaways. But—it was all for games. They carried it with them at all times, in the bathroom, in the bath—so even in a blackout they’d never be without games.

  —Though truth be told, it was questionable whether this kind of wealth would help in a real survival scenario.

  “…Well, I guess there wouldn’t be any signal in a fantasy world.”

  Sora looked at his phone. It said there was no service.

  —On the other hand, the backlight would
serve as a flashlight at night, and it could take photos and videos. Maps—obviously didn’t work, but he could use it as a compass. Feeling gratitude for the sophistication of modern phones, Sora spoke.

  “…All right, let’s turn off your phone and the tablet and charge them up with the solar charger while the sun is out. I have a bunch of e-books on the tablet I downloaded to study for quiz games; in the worst-case scenario, we might need a survival manual.”

  “…Roger.”

  She obediently turned them off and connected them to the solar charger. Shiro had learned from experience that it was best to follow her brother’s instructions when in an unforeseen situation.

  …So: It was possible to use the power of science (Sora’s phone) to find which way was north. But, still, it was just as if they had been cast out on the wide blue sea with no maps and only a compass. With the fruits of cutting-edge technology in hand, they sat on the wayside, lost in life.

  “—Hey?”

  There were a few people walking down the road.

  “Hey! Sweet! It’s time for my RPG experience to shine!”

  “…Brother, they look…weird.”

  And the group that had shown up suddenly picked up speed and spread to surround them. Their green garb, their shoes that looked easy to run in—

  “Oh, God, they’re bandits.”

  Sora looked up at the sky and said this without thinking. That the very first people they should encounter on the road should be Hello, we are bandits from a fantasy world. Just as if straight from a template, this mean-looking bunch—Sora was just about ready to curse the heavens in earnest. Feeling danger to their persons, Sora physically guarded Shiro.

  —But what the bandits said.

  “Heh-heh…If you want to pass—play a game with us.”

  ……The siblings could only look at each other—but.

  “—Oh, yeah, he said that everything’s decided by games in this world—that kid.”

  “This is what bandits are like here?”

  They immediately got the picture: Compared to robbers in their own world…this looked so heartwarming, so cute, even, that they couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Ya curs, what are ya sniggerin’ about! If you don’t play our game, you ain’t goin’ a step further!”