Phantom Bullet 2

by Reki Kawahara

  “B…but…” Sinon stammered. “But…wh…what am I supposed to do, then…?”

  Will I be like this my whole life?

  It was too cruel a sentence.

  Was it all pointless? If she left this cave, fought Death Gun and somehow won, would Shino’s real-life pain continue forever—regardless of everything…?

  “The thing is, Sinon,” Kirito said, raising his right hand to softly cover hers as she squeezed his shoulder, “that’s probably the right way of things. I lost my rational mind and killed people. And I wasn’t blamed for it; I was hailed as a hero. No one punished me, and no one taught me how to make amends for what I did. So I took advantage of that, and avoided examining what I’d done. I tried to forget. But that was a mistake. I cut them down myself, ended their lives, and I should have taken on that weight and continued to think about it. That was the very least I could have done to make amends, and I didn’t…”

  “…Accept it…and…think about it. But…I can’t do that…” she mumbled.

  “No matter how hard you try to keep it at bay, you can’t erase the past, and your memories never disappear. So…all you can do is look them straight in the face and fight, so that you can one day accept their burden.”

  “…”

  The strength went out of Sinon’s arms, and she slid back down over Kirito’s legs. With her back and head resting on him, she gazed up at the ceiling of the cave.

  Accept the memories, and fight. She couldn’t possibly see herself as capable of that. The path to salvation that Kirito found belonged only to him, and she had to find her own way of coping, she felt. But even still, his story might have cleared up one of her troubles. She glanced at his pale face in the gloom and mumbled, “Death Gun…”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re saying that under that tattered cloak is a real, actual person.”

  “Well, of course. He was a former officer of Laughing Coffin, that’s for sure. If I could just remember his name from SAO, we’d be able to find out his name and address in the real world. To be honest, that’s why I’m here in this game.”

  “…Oh…”

  So that meant that at the very least, the cloaked man was not a ghost from Shino’s past. She squinted and thought it over. “Then you’re saying he can’t get over what happened in SAO, and came here to GGO…so he could keep PKing?”

  “I think it’s more than that… When he shot Zexceed and Tarako, then Pale Rider in this event, he chose situations where lots of eyes were on him. Same thing with making the sign of the cross—he’s doing all of this to convince a greater majority…that he has the power to kill people from within the game…”

  “But how can he do that…? The AmuSphere’s not like the original…NerveGear, they called it? It can’t emit those dangerous microwaves, right?”

  “Supposedly. But according to the person who hired me to come here, the cause of death for Zexceed and Tarako wasn’t brain damage, but heart failure.”

  “Huh…? Heart?”

  The moment she heard that word, something chilly crawled up her back, and Sinon couldn’t help but shiver. Though it seemed impossible, she put her thought into words. “Meaning…he killed them with…some kind of curse, or supernatural powers…?”

  As soon as she said it, she was afraid he would laugh at her, but all that came back was Kirito’s tense gaze.

  “To be honest…unless we find the real person controlling that cloaked avatar, I couldn’t begin to guess how he’s killing them. I want to imagine that there’s no way for someone firing virtual bullets to stop the heart of a flesh-and-blood player…but, wait…now that you mention it…”

  He stopped and rubbed his narrow chin with his fingers, which seemed to be his habit when thinking hard. Sinon looked at him askance from her position atop his knees. He murmured vaguely, “That’s…weird…”

  “What is?”

  “When we were in the ruined city, why did Death Gun switch over to his rifle to shoot me, rather than using his black pistol? He was certainly close enough, and in terms of sheer power, the pistol should be higher—one bullet is literally lethal, after all. On top of that, I failed to avoid the rifle shot. If he used the pistol, he could have killed me for sure…”

  She found it stunning that he could rationally analyze the chances of himself dying like that. Nevertheless, Sinon offered her own thoughts. “Maybe because he didn’t have time to make the sign of the cross? Or the Black Star…oh, I should point out, that gun is called a Type 54 Black Star…”

  She momentarily had to stifle the unpleasantness of saying the name aloud before continuing, “Maybe he thinks he has to make the sign when he shoots that thing. Or perhaps the cross is necessary for him to do the killing?”

  “Hmm…but when we were escaping on the buggy, he was shooting at you with the Black Star. How could he be making the sign of the cross while riding horseback?”

  She glanced over at the three-wheeled buggy. The bullet hole in the rear right bumper clearly belonged to a 7.62 mm round, not the much larger .338 Lapua Magnum bullet. And she had witnessed for herself that Death Gun pulled out the Black Star while on horseback and shot at her without making the sign of the cross.

  “Yes…you’re right. That’s true.”

  “Meaning that Death Gun could have killed me, but didn’t. Yet he shouldn’t have a reason to let me go. I was the one who won the prelim block…and to be totally honest, I stick out more than you…”

  “Sorry for being so plain,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

  He cleared his throat and continued, “Fine, let’s say we’re about the same. At any rate, maybe it wasn’t that he couldn’t shoot me, but that he had some other reason not to shoot me…”

  “Hmm.”

  Sinon rolled over, so that she was facing downward atop Kirito’s lap. She folded her hands over her head. Her suspicion of and resistance to the boy hadn’t disappeared, but she felt that the warmth of their avatars’ contact helped keep the black sensation away. She was surrounded by a pale glow of reassurance, and her head was slowly regaining its sense, thinking faster and faster.

  “By the way, you were right when you said something was weird…”

  “I did?”

  “I’m talking about the bridge. He shot Pale Rider with the Black Star, but totally ignored the helpless Dyne right next to him. I was sure he was going to shoot Dyne, too.”

  “Oh…but he was already dead at that point, wasn’t he?”

  “He was only dead in that his HP was gone and he couldn’t move. But his avatar was still there, and his mind was still logged in. If his power transcends the game, why should the presence or absence of HP make any difference to him?”

  Kirito grunted. “Good point. That’s exactly right. Same as in the city, in that original scene, Death Gun had some kind of reason for shooting Pale Rider, but not Dyne…”

  “Meaning…this? Between you and Dyne, and me and Pale Rider, there’s some kind of common element, marking some players as targets, and some players not,” Sinon muttered. She felt Kirito nod.

  “I think we can assume that’s the case. And going back to earlier, I feel like Zexceed and Tarako must have shared something with you and Pale Rider, too. Maybe it just comes down to strength, or ranking, or whatever…”

  “Pale Rider was tough and all, but he wasn’t in the last tournament. Dyne’s much higher when it comes to BoB rankings.”

  “Then maybe…it has something to do with a special event?”

  “Not the case. I was in Dyne’s squadron until just recently, and we ventured out on several expeditions together. I hadn’t met Pale Rider, or even heard his name before this.”

  “What about Zexceed and Tarako?” Kirito asked. Sinon grimaced and turned over again. She looked up at the pretty face and shrugged.

  “Those two were celebrities within the game a rank above people like me and Dyne…Zexceed was the previous champion, and Usujio Tarako was fifth or sixth, but also ran the largest squa
dron on the server. I’d only talked to him once or twice.”

  “Hmm…Maybe it’s equipment, then…or build type…”

  “Everyone has different gear. I’m a sniper, Pale Rider used a shotgun, Zexceed had a superrare XM29 assault rifle, I think. Usujio Tarako used an Enfield machine gun. As for build…oh.”

  “What?” Kirito asked. She raised her eyebrows in apology.

  “I wouldn’t call it a common connection…but if you really wanted to stretch, you could say that none of us played particularly AGI-heavy builds. But even that’s kind of wind. Some of us were more STR-based, others more VIT…”

  “Hmmm…”

  Kirito’s pretty lips curled up, and he scratched at his head. “Maybe he’s just choosing his targets without a good reason…I dunno, it feels like there’s got to be something there, though. You said you’d spoken to Usujio Tarako, right? What did you talk about?”

  “Umm…”

  She tried to revisit her weak memory of the event, placing her hands between her head and Kirito’s legs, so that she was using him for a pillow. It occurred to her that this was formally known as a “lap pillow,” and felt a sudden embarrassment rising within her, but punted it away under the guise of emergency circumstances.

  As a matter of fact, she hadn’t made lengthy contact with another person like this for several years. An odd comfort buoyed her heart, as though he was supporting some of her mental weight with the physical. When it occurred to her that she’d like to maintain it for a bit longer, the weak smile of Kyouji Shinkawa floated into her head, and she felt guilty for some reason. If she got back to the real world safely, maybe she’d work on tearing down that wall between them…

  “Hey, Sinon? What about Tarako?”

  “Oh…uh, right.” She blinked to clear her thoughts and revisited the distant memory. “I mean, it really was just for a moment. I think…it was after the last tournament, when we went back to the first-floor hall of the regent’s office, just outside. We talked about what the prize would be for two or three minutes…but I didn’t fight him directly in the battle, so it was just idle chatter.”

  “I see. And Death Gun wasn’t in the last tournament…He couldn’t just be holding a grudge about not winning a prize…It sounds like it’s just a waste of time conjecturing about unlikely causes.”

  Kirito sighed. He blinked a few times, trying to change his mood, and looked down at Sinon. “By the way, I didn’t look it up beforehand…What is the prize?”

  Impressed that in their dire situation, he had the ability to care about what the event’s grand prize was, Sinon answered, “You get a choice. The options vary depending on where you place…but we seem to be lasting pretty long here, so it might actually be good stuff. Assuming we survive the ordeal in one piece.”

  “Like what, for example?”

  “For starters, guns or armor…maybe hair dyes you can’t buy in the market, or clothes. But they won’t have special capabilities, they’ll just stand out from the crowd. Also, it’s kind of weird, but they’ll send you model guns based on the ones in the game.”

  “Model guns? So, like…not in-game items, but actual physical replicas?”

  “Yep. I placed poorly last time, and none of the in-game items were very good, so I chose that option. In fact, I think Tarako chose a model gun, too. I mean, yeah, it’s a toy, but they use metal, so it’s actually quite realistic and fancy. At least, that’s what Shin—er, Spiegel said. As for me…”

  She recalled the travesty of what happened when she pulled the model gun out of her desk drawer a few days earlier, and grimaced. “I shoved it away in my desk, and haven’t really looked at it.”

  But Kirito seemed to have latched on to something, and he didn’t notice the look on her face.

  “A prize…in real life?” he muttered, his expression surprisingly serious. “And did the company itself send it to you? From America?”

  “Yes, through EMS—international mail. That’s actually a pretty expensive service. I wonder if Zaskar makes a fortune on this game,” she smirked.

  But when she looked at Kirito again, she blinked in surprise. The lightswordsman was biting his lip, staring intently at a point in space. It was not the look of one considering what he might receive as an award.

  “Wh-what…? What’s wrong?”

  “EMS… But listen, I just made a GGO account the other day, and the only things they asked for in terms of player info was an e-mail address, age, and gender. How did they get your address?”

  “Did you already forget?” Sinon asked, exasperatedly spreading her hands. “Remember how there was an address field when you registered for the BoB prelims in the regent’s office yesterday? There was a warning there: If you leave it blank, you can still enter, but you might not be eligible for certain prizes. You didn’t enter your info, did you? You can’t fill it in later, so you won’t be able to get a model gun…wait, what?!”

  She yelped as Kirito put a hand on her shoulder and lifted her face up toward his own. She froze, thinking he was about to do something inappropriate, but of course, that wasn’t the case.

  His face was more serious than she’d ever seen, right up in hers. But she couldn’t fathom what was so important about what he was asking her.

  “What did Dyne pick in the last tournament?”

  “Umm…I-I think it was in-game gear. He showed me once; it was a really ugly-colored jacket.”

  “And Zexceed?”

  “I-I don’t know…I’ve never talked to him. But…he was all about efficiency, through and through, so I don’t think he’d have any interest in a purely cosmetic item. So maybe he picked the model gun. I heard that the winner and runner-up can get huge rifle replicas. But…why do you ask?”

  Kirito didn’t answer her. He stared into her eyes, but she could see his mind was afloat on a sea of thoughts.

  “Not a virtual item…but a real model gun…If that’s the connection between you, Pale Rider, Zexceed, and Tarako… EMS addresses…regent’s office terminal…That’s the place where…” he mumbled, barely forming fragments of sentences, “Optical Camo…but if it works…not just outdoors…”

  Suddenly, the grip on her shoulder went as hard as stone. His eyes were gaping wide, the tiny black dots trembling. Was it…shock? Or fear?

  Sinon got up just a tiny bit and shouted, “Wh-what? What is it?!”

  “Oh…oh, my God…This is crazy,” he croaked, out of luscious red lips. “I…I’ve been making a terrible mistake…”

  “M-mistake?”

  “When you play a VRMMO…the player’s mind goes from the real world to the game world, and you’re talking, running, and fighting there…So I just assumed that Death Gun was choosing his targets and killing them from here…”

  “He’s…not…?”

  “No. The player’s body and mind aren’t going anywhere. The only difference between the real world and the virtual world is the amount of information the brain processes. A player wearing an AmuSphere only sees and hears digital sights converted into electron pulses.”

  “…”

  “So you see…when Zexceed and the others died, they were in their own rooms. Along with…the real…killer…”

  “What…? What are you saying…?”

  Kirito clamped his mouth shut for a moment, then opened it again. The breath of his next statement emerged on Sinon’s cheek as freezing mist, as if chilled by his own fear.

  “There are two Death Guns. The first one, the avatar in the cloak, shoots the target in the game. The second one, who is already in the target’s real-life room, kills the player as he lies defenseless and unaware.”

  At first, she didn’t understand what Kirito meant. Sinon lurched upward, her mind a blank. She shook her head back and forth.

  “But…then…that’s impossible. How could they find their…”

  “You just said it. They got model guns.”

  “Then…then the company is doing it? Or did they breach the database somehow…?�
�

  “No…that’s very unlikely. But even an ordinary player can figure out the address of the targets. Only if they appeared in the BoB final, and they chose a model gun for their prize, however.”

  “…”

  “The regent’s office. Anyone who elects to receive a model gun uses the terminal there to input their real name and address. I wondered about it when I was filling out the prelim entry form…Remember how they didn’t put the terminals into booths or private rooms, but right in that wide-open hall space?”

  Sinon finally caught on to what Kirito was getting at. She gasped and shook her head in tiny, trembling bursts.

  “No…you mean he spied on the terminal screen from behind? That’s impossible—the distance effects would render text impossible to see beyond a short distance, and you couldn’t possibly miss a person being that close to you.”

  “What if they used a scope or binoculars? Someone I know claimed to have spotted someone punching in a security code using a simple mirror. Is it possible to nullify the distance effect using an item?”

  “That would be crazy. If you used binoculars in such an obviously public place, you’d get reported to the GMs and banned. This is an American game, so they take player harassment very seriously.”

  But Kirito was expecting that response. He leaned in even closer and whispered his theory, the words just barely audible.

  “What if…what if the cape Death Gun’s wearing…can make use of the Optical Camo ability in town? It was very gloomy in the regent’s office hall. If he went invisible in the shadows, nobody would notice him. If he used large binoculars or a scope while hidden, and watched the terminal screen…couldn’t he also read the address and real names that players were entering on the form?”

  “…”

  Invisibility and long-distance sight tools. It might be possible with that particular combination. In-game menu windows were invisible to other players unless you enabled it, but because the touch panel monitors on the terminals could sometimes be used by a group of people at once, they displayed to everyone by default. In both this tournament and the previous one, Sinon had entered her address and name with the screen set to visible. Had someone…had that leering reaper in the tattered cloak actually been watching her from behind? So he could copy her name onto his murder list?