by Yuu Kamiya
“…Yawn… Oh, Steph. Looks like you’ve lost weight in the last few hours?”
“Grown haggard, I think is the phrase that might apply…”
Approaching the game’s appointed start time, an exhausted Steph answered a freshly risen Sora.
“Great. Shiro, how you feeling?”
“…All, green.”
Shiro answered Sora’s question with eyes glowing several degrees brighter than usual.
“You, Jibril?”
“A Flügel’s condition knows no variance. I am always ready to devote all my spirits at your command.”
Yet even Jibril answered with a restless expression swept clean of her usual laxity.
“Steph—well…yeah, I guess there’s no hope there.”
With that, Sora spoke slowly.
“By the way, Steph, you remember the game we played the other day?”
“…Which game do you mean?”
“The game where we guessed when the pigeon would fly off.”
“Oh, yes…the day you turned me into a dog; what of it, Sir?”
“You remember how we made that wager, and I—still haven’t specified what I want?”
“—Huh?”
“Jibril, can you make it so the Werebeasts can’t hear us here?”
“Certainly, Master; I shall envelop you and little Dora in spirits so that sound cannot escape.”
Jibril nodding once, revolving her halo. Sora turned back to Steph.
“’Kay, Steph, now I’m gonna perform a very special charm on you…”
With a very, very sweet smile, but approaching rather creepily, Sora inspired in Steph only the worst of expectations—
—The game’s appointed start time. Shown in by Ino, the party arrived at one floor of the embassy. The vast, right-angled hall gave the impression of taking up the entire story of the massive building. A single giant screen filled each wall, across all four sides of the floor. Amidst this, come to watch the game that would determine the fate of the human race, crowded several hundred—no, perhaps even a thousand Immanities, watching the stage with looks full of suspicion. On the stage, before the front screen, was a black box—and upon it were situated five chairs.
“……”
Demurely seated in one of those chairs waited their opponent. Ambassador of the Eastern Union in Elkia. A black-haired Werebeast with ears as long as those of a fennec fox—Izuna Hatsuse. With her eyes closed as if focusing her mind, the girl showed no trace of the warmth she had exhibited the other day.
“…If you’ll each be seated here, please.”
At Ino’s urging, Sora sat next to Izuna. Then, in order to the right, Shiro, Jibril, and Steph followed. Having checked that they were seated, Ino, standing beside Izuna, read from the document he held.
“Now—if you will, the review of the covenant shall commence.”
Someone could be heard to swallow.
“The Eastern Union wagers all it possesses on the continent of Lucia. The Kingdom of Elkia wagers its Race Piece—in other words, all rights, all territory, and everything else possessed by Immanity. Under these conditions, a game specified by the Eastern Union shall be played by a total of five players, comprising the representative of the Eastern Union as well as the two monarchs of the Kingdom of Elkia and their two attendants—one on four.”
Seeing that all of his demands—including that it be one on four—had gone through, Sora smirked.
—Of course they had. They hadn’t given them a choice.
“Moreover, per the Eastern Union’s standard practice, a concomitant demand shall be made that all memories of the game be forgotten. This demand applies to all Immanities including the players and spectators.”
Ino continued neutrally.
“Also, the rules shall be explained after the game begins. Therefore, should the game be refused after hearing the rules, the match shall be ruled invalid, and the memories regarding the rules shall be forgotten solely—is this truly acceptable?”
—It was bullshit. You wouldn’t find out what the game was until after you bet? And then he spelled out what a heavy demand it was and bothered to ask, “Is this truly acceptable?” Acceptable, my ass, was the collective thought of all in the audience. But, responding all too carefreely:
“Sure, no problem. But I just want to clarify two things.”
Eagerly, the king of Immanity—Sora.
“Even if we withdraw, all that we’re gonna lose are our memories of today’s game. If you’re hoping you can make us quit by hitting us with an impossible game and then take all our memories, forget it. Don’t waste your time.”
Then, peering deeper into Ino’s eyes.
“And here’s the second thing. ‘If cheating is discovered in a game, it shall be counted as a loss’—as long as you’re not forgetting this fundamental premise of the Ten Covenants, there’s no problem. Come, then, let’s get started.”
…At Sora, who so easily—too easily—struck down one of the traps laid by the upper brass of the Eastern Union. At Sora, who seemed not to consider in the slightest the possibility that he might lose. At his actions, which appeared to onlookers unsurpassably rash. Even Ino and Izuna, who knew that the game had been laid bare. All grimaced for different reasons.
“…Then, taking this as a sign of agreement—let us declare the covenant.”
At Ino’s announcement, Sora and Shiro raised their hands. Jibril, unhesitatingly, and Steph, hesitantly.
“Aschente.”
“Aschente, please.”
The agent plenipotentiary of Immanity, Sora and Shiro, and each of the players. And the agent plenipotentiary of the Eastern Union, Izuna Hatsuse.
—Each pronounced to one another the word of oath under the Ten Covenants.
“Okay, Shiro, don’t let go of my hand, all right?”
“…You too, Brother.”
As they gripped each other’s hands, Sora leaned back in his chair and said:
“Come—let’s begin the game.”
“…Very well, I shall do the honors.”
Ino, thus muttering, manipulated the black box—probably turning on the power. The giant screens covering the walls lit up.
—This was it: the game for the human race itself. And for the entire continental domain of the third largest country in the world. Amidst a whirlpool of countless emotions: tension, doubt, despair. The hall was crammed with as many as a thousand spectators yet went as silent as the bottom of the sea. Beside Izuna, viewing the screen, Sora spoke.
“Hey, Izuna.”
“—What, please?”
Words from the enemy just before the start of the game. For a moment, she doubted whether she should respond to them. But his query, delivered as he faced the screen without any special excitement or emotion—
—were words Izuna would come to regret having asked for.
“When’s the last time you felt a game was fun?”
Before Izuna could process the question, the display went black, and—
—their consciousness was swallowed into the screen.
As his consciousness dived, still Sora considered calmly. (We’ve found out the game from the info the old king left us and the intel we’ve gathered.) It was, indeed, a video game, just as Sora had uncovered. The one discrepancy was that this game was taking place virtually, with a full-consciousness dive. The previous king had written that “it takes place in another world,” but that must have been as far as he’d understood.
(At the time, he was playing Ino Hatsuse. The old dude.) It was written that the game was a “shooting game”—in other words, an FPS. But now that time had gone by since the last game, the role of the player had been handed down to Izuna Hatsuse. It was probably safe to assume that the game itself had changed…but—(Considering the properties of Werebeast, the cheats they’re likely to use, and the fact that this is a public match under the eyes of spectators, we can also assume that they’re not gonna change the fundamental type of game.) Indeed, under t
hese conditions. No other genre could be imagined to provide Werebeast with “certain victory.” (But they are gonna mess with the detailed rules, change up the map, definitely. This is a game of how we’re gonna respond quickly to things we expected and things we didn’t and adapt our strategy—) But as loading finished and the world assembled before his eyes, Sora’s thoughts crashed, and his eyes opened to their maximum. It was
“No, way.”
“……”
The siblings cursed their folly. They’d anticipated countless rule sets, countless maps, and prepared countless strategies. But—this was the one map they hadn’t thought of at all. It definitely was. They knew it…they’d never thought to see it again. Oh, that dear and dreadful place, so chock-full of their trauma—
There was no mistaking it if they tried—it was Tokyo, Japan.
“…Sorry, Steph, Jibril.”
“Uh, what?”
“Hh! Ah, eh, did you call?!”
To Steph, spacing out, and Jibril, drooling at the unfamiliar scenery, Sora spoke.
“We can’t do this. Sorry, Immanity is done for.”
“Chatter chatter shiver shiver”
“Huh…wh-what now?! After you said all that—”
“Sorry forgive me I never even considered it might be in Tokyo we can’t do this our home field is not to our advantage we’re no more use so I really apologize but you’ll just have to figure something out—”
“Chatter chatter shiver shiver”
As the brother blathered away with his eyes rolling back in his head and the sister crouched and trembled with her head in her hands, Jibril stuttered.
“—Do—do you mean to say this is your world?”
Then the narrator’s—rather Ino’s—voice resounded.
“Was it a shock? Welcome to the game world.”
“…Game…world.”
“Indeed. This is the setting of the game. The game will take place in this fictional—”
“Wait.”
“—Yes?”
“Let me check. You said—it’s fictional, a place that doesn’t exist, right?”
“Yes. Is this a problem?”
Looking around at the signs, Sora checked objectively. Crowded in countless glass-sided buildings, a world built out of asphalt and concrete.
…Indeed, it looked quite like downtown Tokyo—but. The signs dotted around clearly were not in Japanese, and there were shrine gates here and there, more of a sense of nature… Looking carefully, it wasn’t exactly the Tokyo Sora knew.
“—So you’re saying this is an artificial virtual world that you guys imagined and created?”
“Yes. How quick is your understanding.”
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, don’t troll us like that!”
Sora’s mighty roar echoed throughout the game’s “Tokyo.”
“—Aaaah, shit! You just triggered goddamn flashbacks! I almost ripped out my arteries… Don’t make such confusing crap, you damn old fart!”
At the wildly raging Sora, Ino’s confusion only increased.
“…What is it that angers you so…? Are you dissatisfied with this stage?”
“I’m dripping with dissatisfaction! What possessed you to use this stage?! What is this, psychological warfare or griefing?”
“Sir… It is simply because the young of late have become enamored of science fiction stages such as this. There is no deep intent.”
“Uh…uhh? Science…fiction?”
—O-oh. Calm down. You gotta calm down, Sora, virgin, eighteen. This is a world that has elves and dragons—just like we all imagined them in our old world. Just like Disboard is fantasy in our world. For these guys, a world like present-day Earth is the product of fancy—that’s all it is. This is a game our consciousness has dived into; it’s a fictional world; it’s not Tokyo. Sora breathed deeply, reassuring himself.
“Hhh…Hhh… Okay, I’m good. I’m calm now.”
“…Chatter chatter shiver shiver”
“Shiro, calm down. This isn’t Tokyo. It just looks like it. It’s an imaginary place they made up.”
“……Hig…uh?”
Perhaps just too traumatized. Shiro apparently hadn’t even heard what Ino said until Sora repeated it to her.
“Yeah, it’s just a game anyway. We can walk around if it’s in a game, right, like Pe*sona or Ste*ns;Gate or Akiba’s *rip. We’re inside a game. It’s okay inside a game. And offline we’ve still got a good grip on each other’s hand. Right, yeah?”
“…In a, game…mm…hmm, o…kay…”
With eyes still somewhat vacant, Shiro got up.
“Ehh, well, with that—shall we proceed with the game?”
—Come to think of it, this game was being observed by the human race. Sora couldn’t see them, but, feeling gazes colder than glaciers fixed on him, he cleared his throat.
“A’ight. We’re ready. Let’s do this.”
“Ahem, in that case, let us start with the opening movie.”
“Pardon? What is that?”
“Is it necessary?”
Sora and Shiro, long since having adopted a kneeling posture, replied to the doubtful Steph and Jibril.
“If you skip the opening movie, you fail as a gamer. If you will, ladies, shut up, sit tight, and watch.”
“…Nod, nod.”
Thus urged, Steph and Jibril reluctantly joined their masters in a kneeling position. And in the skies of “Tokyo,” a giant screen was projected.
“You are—popular with girls.”
…One second into the opening, Sora was already pretty sure this was going to fail as a game. But his pride as a gamer just barely kept his tongue.
“You are so popular with girls from all over the world, you lead a life of constantly being chased… But you yourself, in your heart of hearts, have just one girl—one love of whom you dream.”
Projected along with the ridiculous narration. The image of Izuna, dressed up in cute, florid clothes, as if she weren’t already angelic enough.
“But even so, surrounded by such masses of temptation, there is only so long your feelings can stay pure—”
A graphic of a figure chased by hordes of animal-girls and hugged once captured.
“Can you fight through the masses of temptation—and deliver your love through to your one and only?!”
Living or Dead Gaiden
Love or Loved 2: Get Her with Your Bullet of Love
—The opening ended. Or, shall we say, it had ended. Sora holding his head as if trying to contain something. Shiro unspeaking. Beside Jibril as she drooled in fascination, Steph stared puzzledly.
“G-Gramps, do you mind?”
They sure picked some game for a contest on which rested the fate of the nation and the human race. To Sora, about to let slip a snide remark (or nine), Ino apologetically pleaded…
“…Please, could you not say anything? Izuna had us make this game because she dislikes gory content.”
…You’re pretty fairy-tale after all, aren’t you, Izzy?
“More importantly, everyone, please look at the boxes at your feet.”
As everyone looked toward their feet, now each had a little box there. The kind of box in which you find ammo in an FPS. Opening it up—
“What is this, a gun?”
“…Weird…shape.”
“The shape does indeed seem to differ significantly from the ‘guns’ which appear in your literature.”
“What is this? How are you supposed to hold it?”
To the siblings, confused at the bizarre shape of the weapon, and to the two who had never seen a gun, Ino continued.
“Now, please let me explain the rules.”
Ino proceeded in a monotone as if reading off the instruction manual.
“Please use the gun provided—to shoot the NPC girls who chase you.”
“You shoot them?!”
“At times you will shoot them, at times you will bomb them—to make them fall head over heels for you.”
<
br /> “What is this, Ga*Gun?!”
“Once they fall head over heels, they will realize the strength of your love and disappear, leaving you with their power of love.”
“…Uh, okay.”
“The ‘Lovey-Dovey Gun’ fires the power of love—technically termed Love Power.”
Sora looked down at the bizarre gun he had.
“—This is called a Lovey-Dovey Gun?”
“…Lame.”
“It is indeed a thoughtless name. The infantile sensibility of this game comes through in spades.”
“Excuse me, please, what is a gun?”
“Your team wins if you shoot your ‘one and only,’ that is, Izuna, with the Lovey-Dovey Gun—Lovey Gun for short.”
“…Rrright.”
“However, if one of you is shot by Izuna, then her victim will become her ‘slave of love.’”
“—Um…can you just say ‘turn on you’?”
“In a world in which all girls adore you, except only for your one true love, the object of this game is to get through to her with the power of love and make her fall head over heels with lovey-dovey feelings—so explains the instruction manual.”
Ino’s implicit assertion being, This was not my idea, prompted a—Hmm, okay—from Sora. Summing up the rules in his head, he opened his mouth, eyes squinting.
“…This premise pisses me off. Basically you’re saying we go around rejecting every girl in sight. What kind of dickhead are we supposed to be?”
So they all had charisma times, like, a million now, right? Get gibbed. Thrust of it was, everyone was hyper-ultra-popular, but for the four on Sora’s team, Izuna was their “one and only.” For Izuna, though, they were all her “four and only.”
“So, basically, Izuna’s going for the harem ending with all four of us in love with her while we’re each gunning for Izuna alone.”
“Well, yes, that is how it’s set up.”
“…That’s, like, what. It’s…”