Once I was around the backside of the tree, he must have looked away, because the hide rate jumped back up to 70. A few seconds later, I heard the creaking of the door swinging shut, and dashed through an alley until I was a block away from the pub.
“Whew …”
I leaned against the wall and wiped away a cold virtual sweat with the sleeve of my coat. If this was what Argo the Rat did every day in her profession, then I was in no mood to follow that line of work.
I might have made a poor spy, but at least I’d succeeded at my mission. I found Nezha’s base of operations—probably the second floor of that bar—discovered the existence of his partners, and even gained a little fragment of information about the mysterious trick behind the failed weapon upgrades.
That was assuming that the snippets of conversation I overheard were in fact related to such a trick. If it was true, they were somehow profiting from forcing other players’ upgrade attempts to fail. Profiting enough that they were even staying in the black by buying a spent +0 weapon at twice the going rate.
If that was possible … was someone else paying them money to intentionally sabotage the orders of specific players? That was hard to imagine. It was such a roundabout way to get back at someone, and there was no guarantee that the target would ever come to Nezha for his services. If this mystery client was going to spend money, they’d be much better served following Diavel’s plan and contacting the target directly.
But if that wasn’t the case, what other explanation could there be?
The thoughts raced through my head so fast, I could practically feel the steam shooting from my ears. The scene from less than an hour ago replayed in my head.
Nezha taking the Wind Fleuret from Asuna. Accepting the materials and putting them into the forge with his right hand, sword in the left. When the forge was full of blue light, he pulled the sword from the scabbard and laid the blade into the fire. Once infused with that blue light, he moved it to the anvil and struck it with his hammer. A few seconds after that, the sword shone like a death scream, then shattered and disappeared.
I watched the entire string of events. I couldn’t believe that there had been some sleight of hand there. If I had to assume that deception had occurred, perhaps it was in the materials. But there was no way to mimic the bright blue light that flashed out of the forge—
“Ah …”
Wait. Wait … I thought I had seen the entire thing, but there was one moment. One spot, invisible to both me and Asuna …
That meant it wasn’t the materials that he’d falsified.
“Gah … !!”
My mind jumped over several logical steps and landed at a conclusion. I grunted and slapped my main menu open, checking the time readout in the corner.
The digital clock said 8:23.
There’s still time!
My right hand flashed to the instant message tab, but I reconsidered and brought it down, closing the window. It was impossible to describe what I was about to do in text. I had to state it directly in person.
“There’s still enough time to pull this off!” I said aloud this time, bursting out of the alleyway and racing north down the street.
The route that took eight minutes to cross during my attempt at spywork was less than three in a blazing sprint. I reached the familiar eastern plaza of Urbus but shot straight through it to the north without stopping and back into the streets of the town. Past the bench where Asuna had cried, then a hard turn shortly after. I burst through the door of her inn and raced upstairs, taking three steps at a time.
Thanking my lucky stars that I’d asked for her room number, I charged over to room 207 and slammed on the door as if to break it down. It followed the same physical rules as any other closed door, but several seconds after knocking, it would allow voices to pass through.
“Asuna, it’s me! I’m coming in!”
I turned the knob without waiting for an answer and practically pushed the door down. Instantly, my eyes met those of a figure who leapt from the bed inside like a shot. Her hazel eyes were wide, and she was sucking air through her lips when I slammed the door shut.
“Eeyaaaa!!”
The scream was completely smothered by the closed door. I felt almost like a criminal—what I did was practically a crime—but this was all for Asuna’s sake.
She clenched her fists over her chest and continued to scream. She wearing a white sleeveless shirt on top, and some kind of poofy, rounded shorts below. This didn’t seem to be underwear, so I gauged that it was safe to walk over and grab her shoulder.
“Asuna, this is an ultra-emergency! There’s no time, just do as I say!”
She finally stopped screaming, but I could see in her face that she was simply deciding whether to resume screaming even louder, or to start attacking me directly. But there was truly no time for anything else—I had to get to the point immediately.
“First, call up your window and set it to visible mode! Now!”
“Wha… wha …?”
“Just do it!”
I grabbed her hand, still clutched in front of her chest, and moved it in the appropriate motion, pushing out two of her fingers and sliding them through the air. A purple window materialized with a soothing sound effect, but it only looked like a blank, flat board to me. I guided her finger over to the general location of the button that would display the contents of the window to other players.
“But, um, I … I thought I locked the door …” she murmured. I answered without thinking.
“You’re still partnered up with me, remember? The default setting on inn room doors is to allow guild and party members in.”
“Wh… what? Why didn’t you tell me that—”
I swiveled around next to the fencer, peering at the now-visible contents of her main menu. It was arranged just like mine but with a floral pattern skin selected. For a moment, I was surprised, remembering that my own window was still in the default setting, then scolded myself for getting distracted.
The right side of the window featured a familiar equipment mannequin. It was mostly empty, as she was not wearing any armor. I scrolled past the something-or-other camisole and whoopty-doo petticoat to look at the right-hand cell: no item selected. Meaning that Asuna had not equipped a new weapon since giving her Wind Fleuret to Nezha.
“Okay, first condition complete! Now the time …”
The clock in the bottom right corner read 20:28, despite how fast I’d run.
Asuna and I had returned to Urbus after our Windwasp hunt at 19:00. We had finished eating dinner around 19:30. Immediately afterward, we had moved to the plaza and asked Nezha to upgrade her weapon… meaning there was only a minute or two to spare!
“Crap, we gotta make this quick. Just hit the buttons as I tell you. Move to the storage tab!”
“Uh … um, okay …”
Asuna faithfully followed my order, perhaps so confused by the sudden turn of events that she had no time to resist.
“Next, the settings button… search button … now there should be one that says Manipulate Storage …”
Her slender finger flashed over the buttons, diving deeper and deeper into the menu. After three or four selections, we finally reached the button I wanted.
“There, that’s it! Materialize All Items! Hit it!!” I screamed. She hit the tiny button, bringing up a yes/no prompt. At maximum volume,
“Yesssss!!”
Click.
Asuna muttered to herself as she hit the button. “Hmm… mm? Materialize all items …? When it says all items … does it mean …?”
With the satisfied smile of a man who did his job, I replied, “All, everything, the entire shebang, the whole nine yards.”
The next moment, all of the rows of text in Asuna’s inventory vanished.
And then—
Clunkclankthudwhamwhudclinkflopflipfwapswishfwuf came a cavalcade of sound from hard and heavy to light and airy. Every single item contained in Asuna’s player inventory had been
materialized into the game world to fall onto the floor in a great messy pile.
“Wha …wha… wha-wha-wha?!”
The mess’s owner couldn’t contain her shock at what had just happened, but I knew it was coming—this was what I’d run all the way from the other side of Urbus to do. The only hitch was my slight underestimation of the volume of her inventory—just a mere two or three times what I’d expected.
The amount of space for storage varied depending on the player’s strength, Expansion skill, and the presence of certain magical items. For a moment, I marveled at how Asuna, a low-level player with no Expansion skill and an agility-heavy fencer build, could have packed so many items in. The answer soon became apparent.
Capacity was determined not by volume, but weight. Metal armor and weapons, liquids such as potions, and stacks of coins all put a major dent in item storage. On the other hand, lighter items such as leather armor and accessories, rolls of bread, and parchment scrolls could be packed in there with ease. The majority of Asuna’s inventory was taken up with those loose effects, big and small … meaning clothes and undergarments.
I stared at the four-foot-tall pile of stuff, feeling slightly self-conscious. The heavier items had fallen out first, so the metal equipment was on the bottom, followed by leather goods, then various clothes and finally, resting on top, a small mound of frilly white and pink underwear. What was the point of keeping so many of them? Avatars in Aincrad had no bodily waste functions, and the only thing that took durability damage in battle was the outer armor. You only truly needed one set of underwear. I had three, for battle, everyday use, and sleeping, but that was probably on the high side for a male player.
And yet.
I couldn’t stop here. If my suspicion was correct, and we’d hit the command in time, it would be here … piled at the bottom of this mountain.
“Pardon me!” I said, ever the gentleman, and started shoving the piles of cloth out of the way. I heard a trembling voice over my shoulder.
“Um, excuse me … Do you have a death wish? Are you one of those people who dream of dying in battle …?”
“No way,” I said in all honesty, still scrabbling through the pile. I got through the clothes to the leather armor, gloves, and small boxes, and finally reached the metal layer at the bottom.
With great effort, I pushed them aside and got to the very last section of the little mountain. The heaviest item Asuna owned—though light as a feather compared to what I had slung over my back—a single rapier.
Wind Fleuret +4.
I grabbed the green scabbard and lifted it out of the pile, then turned around to face Asuna. Her eyes had the look of one deciding a suitable means of execution, but they grew wide when she saw the sword she’d thought was gone forever. Her lips trembling, a tiny little squeak escaped her throat.
“… … No way …”
6
LATER—MUCH, MUCH LATER—ASUNA SMILED ANGELically and told me that if I hadn’t found her sword at that moment, she would have thrown me through the window of the inn.
In truth, I hadn’t spared a single thought for what might have happened if my suspicion had been false. It wasn’t confidence in my logic as much as it was panic, knowing that there were only seconds to spare before the time limit hit. So when I barged into Asuna’s room without asking, forced her to open her window, and yelled at her to press those buttons and eject all of her stuff, I wasn’t acting in my right mind. At least, I hoped I wasn’t.
Order finally returned out of chaos three minutes after I held out the Wind Fleuret +4 to Asuna.
All of the many items spilled over the inn room floor were back in item storage. Asuna sat on the side of her bed, dressed in her normal tunic and leather skirt. She silently cradled her precious, miraculous weapon in her hands, her face a mixture of emotion—probably caught between the polar extremes of joy and rage.
As for me, I sat in a guest chair in the corner of the room, breaking into a cold sweat as I reflected on what I’d actually just done. There was no time to explain anything until I got her to press that Materialize All Items button several layers deep in the menu. But once that step was complete, there was no more time limit, which meant I had no reason to search for the sword myself.
Perhaps I had gone a step too far by ransacking the crown of delicate snow that was Asuna’s undergarments on top of the pile. On the other hand, I still couldn’t fathom why she would need so many of them. If my hazy memory served, there were enough of them that she could change every day for two weeks without reusing any. Yes, they were light enough that you could store a nearly infinite supply, but those weren’t cheap. The silky smooth ones cost quite a pretty penny at the NPC shops, and surely that kind of scratch was better spent raising one of the properties of her armor—
“So, I’ve done some self-examination,” came a voice from the other side of the room. I hurriedly sat up straight.
“Y-yes?”
“If the anger I’m feeling represents ninety-nine g, then my joy is a hundred g. Therefore, the one leftover g represents my gratitude to you,” she said, light flashing in her eyes.
“So, um… why is it represented in g?” I asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? If my anger had been the greater force, I would have pummeled you to make up the difference.”
“Oh… so you’re talking about g as in gravity, not gold? I … guess that makes sense.”
“I’m glad you understand. Now, will you please explain? Why was my supposedly shattered sword left in my inventory … and why did you barge into my room like this?”
“O-o-of course. But it’s a very long story. And I’m not even sure exactly how it works, myself …”
“I don’t mind. We’ve got all night.”
And the fencer, her beloved sword back in hand, finally cracked a menacing smile.
I went down to the check-in counter and bought a small bottle of herb wine and a mysterious bag of assorted nuts. When I got back to the door to room 207, I politely knocked and waited for an answer before opening.
Once the wine was poured, we shared a toast to the recovery of her fleuret, though there was still a dangerous air to her attitude. I moistened my tongue with a sip of the sweetly sour nonalcoholic wine and decided that getting right to the point was in my best interest.
“A minute ago, you asked why your shattered sword was in your item storage.”
“Yes … and?”
“That was the hitch … the trick … the centerpiece of an upgrading scam.”
Her eyes narrowed at the clear direction of the conversation after that last word. She nodded silently, pressing me onward.
“It might be faster to show you than to explain,” I said, swinging my hand to call up my own menu and hitting the visibility button. I touched the top and bottom of the screen and flipped it around until I got it to an angle that was easily visible to the both of us, then pointed out a spot.
“Right here. See how the right-hand cell in my equipment mannequin has an icon for my Anneal Blade plus six?”
Her hazel eyes glanced at the sword grip poking out over my back, and she nodded. I reached backward and removed the entire scabbard, which was affixed to my coat, and dropped it to the floor with a heavy thud. A few seconds later, the icon on my menu was grayed out.
“This indicates that the equipped weapon has been dropped. It happens if you fumble the weapon in battle, or an enemy uses a disarm attack on you.”
“Yes, I’m familiar. It can be quite alarming if you’re not used to it.”
“You can always stay calm and pick it up once you evade the next attack, but it’s tricky at first. The Swamp Kobold Trappers in the middle of the first floor were the first to use disarms. I hear there were quite a few casualties around then …”
“In Argo’s strategy guide, she warns not to attempt to pick it up right away … When I had to fight them, I dropped a spare rapier first, almost like a good luck charm.”
“Ahh… that’s a good idea.
You can do that if you’ve got plenty of the same weapon.”
I was impressed. It wasn’t the kind of idea you expected a new player to implement … although maybe her lack of experience gave her greater creativity in tackling the game’s challenges.
“But I digress. If you don’t pick up the dropped weapon, it eventually goes into an Abandoned state, which gradually decreases its durability rating. Asuna, go ahead and pick up that sword.”
She raised an eyebrow but dutifully stuck the Wind Fleuret onto her waist attachment point and bent down to my scabbard. Asuna lifted the simple one-handed longsword with both hands, grunting, “This is heavy. Am I doing it right?”
“That’s good. Now take a look.” I poked at my window, still floating above the table. The cell with my Anneal Blade grayed out had gone empty the moment Asuna picked it up.
“In combat, this is called weapon-snatching. Unlike a disarm attack, snatching enemies don’t show up until much later in the game. For a solo player, that can be deadly. There’s a weapon skill modification called Quick Change that you’ll have to get before you fight them… but that’s not the point.”
I cleared my throat and attempted to get back on topic again. “You can give your equipped weapon to your friends, even when you’re not in battle. Instead of a ‘snatch,’ that’s called a ‘hand-over.’ So anyway … if someone picks up your weapon or you hand it to them, the weapon cell in your menu goes blank. Including situations like the one where you gave the blacksmith your Wind Fleuret.”
“… !”
She must have seen where I was taking this at last. Her eyes went wide, then filled with a sharp light.
“But here’s the thing. The equipment cell might be empty, as though you’re not equipping anything … but that Anneal Blade’s equipper info hasn’t been deleted. And the equipment rights are protected much more tightly than simple ownership rights. For example, if I take an unequipped weapon out of storage and give it to you, my ownership of that item disappears in just three hundred seconds—that’s five minutes. As soon as it goes into someone else’s inventory, it is owned by that player. But the length of ownership for an equipped item is far longer. It won’t be overwritten until either three thousand six hundred seconds have passed, or the original owner equips a different weapon in that slot.”
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