No Game No Life, Vol. 3

by Yuu Kamiya

  Through a haze of emotions, Sora searched for words.

  “I can deal with this ’cause Izzy’s a cute animal-girl, but, say if it were you, Gramps? Right now I’d imagine myself logging out, taking a running start, and smashing your eyes with my fingers.”

  “I can thoroughly appreciate how you feel, but please remember that you were the one who requested that the game be one-on-four.”

  —Ino reemphasized that they were the ones responsible for this obnoxious premise. But he continued, now rather showing sympathy toward Sora.

  “These days only cutesy games like this are popular… When I was young, we were serious—”

  —Sora felt oddly moved to see that there were retro posers in every world.

  “…Okay, sure. I want to confirm the rules, so let me ask you a few, Gramps.”

  “Please ask anything you like.”

  1. Firing your Lovey Gun or Lovey Bombs uses up Love Power.

  2. You can replenish Love Power by shooting down girls.

  3. The girls are drawn by Love Power, and when they touch you, your Love Power decreases.

  4. If you run out of Love Power, girls won’t come to you, and you’ll effectively be knocked out.

  5. If you get shot by Izuna, you lose control of your character and become Izuna’s “slave of love”—an enemy.

  6. Allies whom Izuna has shot to turn to enemies can be brought back by being shot again by an ally.

  7. The method in #6 can also be used to bring back a player who’s run out of Love Power.

  8. All character stats reflect players’ abilities in real life, except that magic cannot be used.

  “—So, yeah, is that how it is?”

  “Your quick grasp of the rules is a pleasure to see.”

  …Sora put his hand on his chin and thought. The foreseeable issues and concerns were countless but posed no problem. It was just—really just barely but—within the expected parameters.

  “Ah well, it’s just a cross between Le*t 4 Dead and Gal*un, basically.”

  Tidying up the rules in his head, still Sora had to say.

  “But this is really a stupid-ass game…the kind oinking otaku buy…”

  “…Like…you, you mean.”

  “Yeah. This stage and protagonist are shit, but it takes some balls to use a game this dumb for a battle for dominion. And I can’t really argue with being chased around by animal-girls.”

  Sora, starting to leer and wheeze, suddenly asked:

  “Gramps, this ‘Lovey Gun’—if you shoot an ally, they recharge; how’s that work?”

  “Very simply. It is because it fires Love Power.”

  “…So it has the same effects as being shot by Izuna?”

  “Yes, although only temporarily, the party shot will become a ‘slave of—’”

  Powww!

  Before Ino even finished his sentence, Shiro unremorselessly pulled the trigger on Sora. The pink bullet that flew out struck Sora’s arm at sonic speed, sending up countless little hearts—

  “Oh, my sister—my dear sister! To think all this time, a woman so lovely and adorable was so near me and I didn’t realize… Oh, these eyes! I want to tear them from my face!”

  “…Hey…Brother, no…we’re, siblings…”

  Shiro squirmed, flushing, in response to his melodramatic gestures.

  “Ah! But what of it? You are right that the world would not condone it, but what indeed has become of our world! This is Disboard; this is a game! A world where everything is determined by games—whatever anyone may say, let us go—to a place beyond censorship boards!”

  “Hey—I have something to say!! Have you forgotten that people are watching?!”

  As Steph butted in, not getting what was going on but panicking, further, Jibril broke in.

  “Then, if I may speak as well.”

  Powww. Jibril’s point was made with a bullet raining hearts toward Shiro.

  “…Jibril…I love you… ”

  “Aaaaaah, Shirooo! Will you deny the love of your brother?!”

  “Ahaaugh! This is an example of a ‘love triangle’ or ‘netorare,’ as described in my masters’ literature! I see—even to me, who lacks the emotion of love, there’s something about it—!”

  “—Hh!”

  …Sora abruptly came back to his senses.

  “Mngh… So you stay conscious even in the ‘slave of love’ state… It’s pretty scary to lose control of your character when you’re virtually in the game… I was about to lay hands on Shiro and go beyond the ban…”

  Shiro, coming to a little after, glared at Jibril with half-closed eyes, saying:

  “…Jib-ril…I’ll, punish you…later…”

  “Ohh! Forgive me, Lord Shiro! I could not contain my curiosity!”

  Having grasped the nuances of the rules, Sora started building a strategy in his brain. The first concern that popped up was—

  “Ummm… Steph, we just explained the rules, but did you get it?”

  “Heh, I shall not have you underestimating me—I understood not one whit of it!”

  Da-DUMMM. Steph held her head high, proud, and defiant, leaving Sora to explain.

  “Hmm. Okay, then, first, this gun, this is how you hold it.”

  “Mm, like this?”

  “Right, right. And you put your index finger into this hole.”

  “Yes, yes?”

  “Then, try pointing it straight down and gripping with your index finger.”

  “Like this?”

  Steph pointed to the ground as she was told, and pulled the trigger. A powww sound. It blasted the pavement—and ricocheted.

  “…O-ohh…How wonderful you are, Ste-pha-nie—eh-heh-heh, I’ll never let you go!”

  Steph, now her own slave of love, started hugging herself and squirming around.

  “Hmm, so they do bounce. This must be the key, Shiro.”

  “…Mm, I…know…leave it, to me.”

  Surveying Steph as she squirmed with serious eyes, making arrangements that only had meaning to them, the siblings articulated their strategy.

  “’Kay, we’ll call this Point Alpha for now. We’ll stay in a line until we figure out the game balance. According to the rules, no one but Jibril should have physical stats worth shit. If the girls have Werebeast stats, we might even have trouble losing them. Jibril, you take the rear. Mow down all pursuers.”

  “…Yes, sir…”

  “Understood, sir—but is it all right to leave little Dora like this?”

  At this, staring at the writhing throes of Steph, Sora said:

  “Nah, it’s no big deal if Izuna shoots her. She’s just Steph.”

  “You speak truly, my lord. She is but little Dora.”

  At Sora’s decisive dismissal, Jibril abandoned Steph eagerly.

  “Now, you two, let’s go! The fate of the human race depends on this battle!”

  ““Yes, sir!!””

  “Eh-heh-heh, how wonderful you are, Ste-pha-nie… Ohhh, why are you so cold?”

  Leaving Steph behind as she writhed against her reflection in a pane of glass, the three ran.

  VIEWING FLOOR

  The game had begun. Amid the crowd aghast at the stupidity of the game. A girl, exuding caution, a shadow cast over her dark eyes by a black veil.

  —Chlammy was there.

  (…Fi, can you see?)

  [Yes, reading you nicely, Chlammy; why, I can see through your eyes perrfectly.]

  The Elf outside the building—Fi—was synchronizing with Chlammy’s vision while conversing with her telepathically. To Chlammy, born in Elven Gard, this was natural, but… (For other races, really, this kind of magic must be unbearable.)

  —Twitch went Ino’s eyelid.

  (—Is this…the presence of magic?) Lacking, like Immanity, nerves to connect to spirit circuits, Werebeasts were unable to use magic. However, at the presence picked up by his superhuman senses, Ino glanced over.

  (…Chlammy Zell! Why is she here…?!) Was she
not a spy of Elven Gard sent by Elf into the tournament to decide the monarch—?

  (—So they invited her…as a monitor from another race.)

  —The conditions of the covenant applied only to the memories of the players and Immanity. If Chlammy was here reporting to a remote race—Elf—by means of magic, that would mean this whole game was exposed to Elven Gard. Glaring at Sora as he pranced through the virtual world, Ino thought. (This man—just how far ahead does he prepare…?!)

  —Just try and use an obvious cheat. Then all your shady game tricks are going on display. That was what was being said by the man’s thin smile as he closed his eyes.

  [Hee-hee, acting like he doesn’t notice… Why, his ears have perked at magic.]

  Fi laughed at Ino as he kept looking forward while obviously shifting his attention.

  —It appeared that everything was going just as Sora had planned.

  (Fi, the game they’re playing is just as Sora anticipated. A fictitious world, called cyberspace, in which magic cannot intervene. It doesn’t look like there’s anything we can do—)

  [Why, I’m quite aware; the important thing is that we’re watchiing.]

  —That was Fi for you. She must have figured it out the day she heard Sora’s demand.

  (Now the Eastern Union won’t be able to pull any too obvious tricks…)

  The game aside—were the truth of their trickery to become known to Elven Gard, whatever Werebeast tried to do from then on…this would be the Eastern Union’s downfall. That was why, exploiting a loophole in the covenant, Fi had been assigned as a monitor whose memories wouldn’t be erased even if they lost.

  (…Well, not to say I’m interested in overlooking any tricks. Fi, help me out.)

  [Mmm, well, this rite is very difficult to maintain, you know. But, why, I’ll do it for you.]

  —Once more looking back at the strategy to beat this game that had been in Sora’s memory. No matter how many times she reconsidered it, it was too thin a tightrope, the vital parts all smashed up against each other to form the solution. Yet, just as it was in Sora’s memory, it sparkled dazzlingly with the words certain victory. What gave him this confidence—what made Sora believe in human potential? Through this game, Chlammy wondered if she herself would be able to touch it.

  “…Let’s see what you’ve got—Sora.”

  Yes, in the eyes of Chlammy, through the veil, was Sora, running across the screen.

  IN-GAME

  The team dashing between buildings in the concrete jungle of the fictional Tokyo.

  —Sora, deftly dodging the animal-eared NPC girls who swarmed him. His eyes were sharp as he ran through his thoughts. Since the girls were supposed to be Werebeasts, their running speed and other physical stats were extremely high—but. Their movements were such that Sora could somehow manage. Perhaps it was because even Werebeasts had individual variances in physical abilities, and because their movements were predictable, always going straight for the hug. But such things were not important—the crucial thing was that there was something funny about these NPCs he’d been taking out with head shots, the habit of a hard-core gamer.

  “I think there’s a momentary lag—between when the girls disappear and their clothes disappear!”

  The eyes of the anal-retentive gamer who wouldn’t miss a single frame caught it. You could, after all—destroy individual parts! Sora aimed his gun and fired. With a muzzle flash followed by the sound of an explosion, his pink bullet flew, grazing the skirt of one of his pursuers—and while the girl didn’t disappear in a flurry of tiny hearts, her skirt scattered into the breeze!

  “You actually—you actually can!! This is it! This is the true pleasure of this game!”

  —Then could you? No, he would. To take out the part that was as close to the body as could be—namely. The panties alone—it must be possible!!

  “Cloth thickness—assuming cotton panties, on average 1.5 millimeters.”

  Sora, staring at the target, her skirt lost, yet charging at him for a hug at a speed far exceeding the human.

  “Allowable impact error under one millimeter…but I can do it—!”

  The arms of the NPC coming to embrace Sora swept over his head with the roar of reaped air. Having slightly crouched to let the arms of his assailant pass, Sora let his center of balance fall on as he stepped with his right leg. With the minimum movement required, just two steps, he targeted her rear end. At point-blank range, Sora’s muzzle aimed—at striped panties!

  “—This is it!”

  The shot he fired cut into the panties—and disappeared. However, at the same time, the gal herself scattered pink hearts as she vanished and turned to Love Power…

  “Shiiiiiit! What, you can’t make them go commando?! God daaaamn it!!”

  VIEWING FLOOR

  At Sora’s failure to eliminate the panties, the crowd that filled the room. A collective cry of dissatisfaction: Ohhhhhh…… Forced to bear witness, Chlammy desperately twisted her wrists, trying not to look away.

  (It’s a tactic, a tactic; there’s got to be some meaning behind it; there’s something he’s trying to find out; hold on, Fi!)

  [Why, I’m quite fine…except that your gaze is going all over the place; why, you’ll make me sick.]

  “Yeahhh, bra destroyed! Cover ’em with your hands; you know how to do it!”

  This time, at Sora’s words audible from the screen, a cry of glee arose: Oooooooohhhhh!

  (…Forget this stupid race; let it go where it will…)

  Chlammy stopped thinking deeply about it.

  [Ah, Chlammy, don’t close your eyes; open your eyes, Chlammy!]

  IN-GAME

  (—Cool, now time to check the last thing.) Chased by animal-girls, weaving through alleys in deep satisfaction, Sora glanced over. Unhurried, marching along with little steps, yet sticking to Sora like glue, Shiro. Launching herself between buildings, amusedly blowing away the girls behind Sora and Shiro, Jibril. Exchanging looks with the two, he nodded once.

  “Shiro, gun performance report.”

  “…All, approximate…units, meters…”

  With this preface, Shiro drew in a deep breath.

  “Bullet speed three hundred per second, range about four hundred, no wind or gravity effects, linear, elastic collision, number of rebounds limited only by range, rebound angle proportional to entry angle, simple—”

  Completing this lengthy catalog, Shiro sighed, hff, and commented.

  “…So…tir-ing…”

  The sister apparently referring not to the measurement but the speaking, Sora mussed her hair.

  “Awww, yeah, good job, that’s my Shiro!”

  And verifying that her mood had improved a bit, he shifted his attention.

  “Jibril, what kind of physical stats do they have for you?”

  True to the explanation, Sora’s and Shiro’s bodies were just as normal. Running made them pant. But what kind of constraints had they put on Jibril?

  “To not be able to use magic, after all, makes me feel as if I am not myself. It seems my abilities are set at physical limits. Why, how very inconvenient is a physical body.”

  What’s so inconvenient when she’s wall-jumping between buildings… But Sora asked with yet greater caution.

  “You mentioned that Werebeast physical abilities approach physical limits. So right now you’re on even terms?”

  “It distresses me deeply to admit this is a reasonable assumption.”

  However, she went on.

  “As I mentioned before, certain Werebeast individuals can use ‘bloodbreaks.’ If this is incorporated into the game—it may be best to assume that I may even be surpassed for an instant.”

  —Bloodbreaks… Among the Werebeasts, whose physical abilities approached physical limits, a power possessed by a yet further subgroup, which might even break through physical limits for an instant. This was a game prepared by Werebeast; of course they would incorporate it.

  “Man, there’s you, and there�
�s Werebeast… The dudes in this world are crazy.”

  Hff, sighed Sora—but whatever. They’d got their info together.

  “So, basically, the enemy intends to seal us off from magic in a virtual space and smack us with what they’re best at, combat that showcases the summit of physical abilities—and they think that’ll teach us?”

  Sora involuntarily cracked a chuckle.

  —“ ”, who’d stood at the top of over 280 games in their old world. There was a truth they’d demonstrated to hold for all such games, and it was—

  “No matter how complex the game looks, ultimately there are just two things you can do.”

  “Namely?”

  To Jibril’s query, Sora responded with a wicked smile.

  “—Tactical action and coping action. Basically, it’s play or be played.”

  In other words—the one who seized the initiative would win. It was a truth that applied to all kinds of games. And—

  “They don’t realize. This is the game humans have been best at since antiquity.”

  The name of the game—was hunting.

  “Shiro, you’re good, right? Make sure you keep the running to a minimum—’kay?”

  “…Roger…”

  “So, shall we get started?”

  ……On the eighth floor of a building several hundred meters from Sora’s crew, Izuna hid in a storeroom with just one window. From the window, made opaque to Sora’s team by the reflection of the sun, she observed them using her Werebeast vision. The enemy were four, and she was one. However bulletproof the game was, if she dropped the ball, it would be over in an instant. Especially considering the enemy had a Flügel. Izuna figured that before attacking, she’d better analyze the enemy’s capabilities thoroughly. Meanwhile, watching the three messing around giddily destroying girls’ clothing, she furrowed her brow in displeasure.

  —When’s the last time you felt a game was fun? At Sora’s words, Izuna ground her teeth. (Who would ever think this shit is fun, please.) Games were a struggle. A means to kill each other indirectly.

  …If she lost, many would suffer. For their sake, she had to win at any cost. But if she won, she would debase her fallen opponent and perhaps even take their lives. You called that “fun”? All you could feel was—guilt for those who lost. (What’s that asshole laughing about, please?) Growing irritated, Izuna’s eyes as she glared at Sora sharpened yet further.