by Blitz Kiva
As an inevitable trait of virtual reality, Kirschwasser found fights between players much more nerve-wracking here than in standard MMOs. And while a fight by itself was one thing, the prospect of an ambush in the field, without the consent of both players, would be all the more terrifying.
On top of that, in terms of raw combat data, the stats of Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s avatar were cream-of-the-crop. If Duplichiro appeared in a field traversed mainly by mid-level players and began indiscriminately attacking them, that would be a severe violation of game etiquette. Just as when he had attacked Iris, and when he had started attacking those on the mountain road outside of Glasgobara, it was an action that would disgrace Ichiro’s name.
Yes, that was one thing Kirschwasser could not ignore. As a loyal retainer, but also as Sakurako Ogi, it could not be forgiven. She was fuming. While walking along the carpet, Kirschwasser’s hands balled into fists, causing a faint creak to sound out from his Full Plate Mail gauntlets.
Tiramisu guided them to one of their many rooms, a large room with a lavish interior. There was a round table at the center, the floor was covered in red carpet, and there was a hearth flanked by large hanging banners that displayed the Knights’ crest. It had atmosphere. It really felt like the Knights’ conference room.
“Hey, Mr. Kirsch!” Iris, already in her seat, waved, while Nem, sitting beside her, bowed her head to him.
Teacups and sweets sat on top of the round table.
“I have returned,” said Kirschwasser. “Iris, Lady Nem, have you eaten dinner already?”
“I have!”
“A light one, at least.”
That was good. In virtual reality, where the triggering of senses could be enough to make you feel full, it was easy to forget to perform physiologically necessary functions like eating and excreting. There were alert messages for things like that, but especially lately, the game’s food and drink had a tremendous ability to make you feel satisfied.
Even before VRMMOs came along, people had died because they had gotten too involved in a game. Obsession could be a dangerous thing.
Also sitting beside Iris was another friend of hers, Yuri. She was drinking her tea with a composed expression, but then she startled as if she’d noticed something. Kirschwasser looked around, but only Taker was standing behind him.
Three already seated top players greeted them, as well.
“Hello, there,” said Matsunaga.
“Hiya!” cried Amesho.
“Good to see you,” Tomakomai intoned.
Sorceress was also there, twirling her parasol, despite being indoors. “Oh, Taker. Come back, have you?”
“Shut up.” Taker slumped into his seat as the witch offered up her usual snark.
The Knights’ commanders were already all seated. Even Stroganoff, who’d said he had a group reservation that afternoon, was there. The fact that Gazpacho, who apparently also worked at his restaurant, hadn’t logged in suggested that it must still be a madhouse there.
“Where are the Kirihitters?” Kirschwasser asked, sitting down.
“They left,” said Tiramisu.
She offered him tea. She didn’t have the “Tea Ceremony” Skill, but it was still a rare and treasured experience for him to get to drink tea made by someone else in NaroFan, so he accepted it with gratitude.
Tiramisu sat down and said, “I suppose this is everyone.” It was certainly a distinguished assortment of people. The question was what they could possibly do about the situation.
“Sir Kirschwasser, has Mr. Tsuwabuki told you anything about this incident?” Matsunaga asked to broach the discussion.
Sakurako had switched her mindset fully over to Kirschwasser’s. “He has, but it involved matters internal to the game’s development team, so I’m afraid I cannot repeat it here. It does seem to be quite a serious matter, though.”
“I suppose that stands to reason. The hacker’s using GM privileges, after all. If the media decides to raise a stink about it, the whole service could end up shut down.” Smiling his trademark smile with his beautiful elven features, Matsunaga brought his teacup to his mouth.
“So what’re you gonna do, Matsunaga?” Amesho asked while messing with friend messages in her menu window. The mannerism was akin to someone playing with her cell phone; she was probably chatting with people about things completely unrelated to the conversation while she talked.
“Catch Duplichiro, of course,” said Matsunaga. “Well, catching him won’t be possible either legally or physically, I suppose... but still, we obviously can’t just leave him at large.”
“And why do you really wanna do that?” she asked.
“Because it sounds fun. And perhaps it will let me put out a blog entry to coincide with the devs’ announcement.”
Well, that much was predictable enough. No one would really have expected Matsunaga to start playing detective out of a sense of righteousness.
He was just a naturally curious person, perhaps. He wouldn’t be on the vanguard of unlocking all the game’s secrets if he weren’t. He also seemed to have a bit of a natural journalist in him, given how he enjoyed revealing the intelligence he’d gathered, and his perfect control in disseminating that information made him the model affiliate blogger.
“But how are we going to catch him?” Iris asked. “We don’t even know where he is... well, actually, I guess we do.”
Iris opened her menu window, and Kirschwasser did the same. Checking the guild member tab, Kirschwasser could see the name Ichiro Tsuwabuki on the list along with both of theirs.
He was still logged in. His location was tagged as deep within the Volgund Volcanoes, an area only high-level players could enter. The “Fighting” icon was blinking. From the color of the icon, it was clear he was fighting a mob, not a player.
“He must be visiting the Lizardman Dojo,” Matsunaga said. “Perhaps we should seal it off so that other players won’t go there accidentally.”
“Isn’t blocking players off against game etiquette?” asked Kirschwasser.
“It should be fine. GMs aren’t responding to the GM call anyway,” Matsunaga said airily, then sent a message to the members of his guild.
VRMMOs naturally strove for realism as much as possible, which meant that avatars couldn’t pass through each other. As a result, it was possible to create physical barriers to impede the progress of other players. Of course, it was against etiquette to do this for any reason.
He was clearly thinking that, in order to keep players away from Duplichiro, the best thing to do would be to pack the narrow mountain roads of the Volcanoes with the Dual Serpents’ Bowgun Corps and silently intimidate players off of going there. It was impressive how he enthusiastically adopted the villain role, every single time.
“I could put out a warning message on my blog, but if not worded carefully, it might just end up inviting rubberneckers,” said Matsunaga.
Kirschwasser nodded. “Yes, I agree.”
“Now, the fact that we’re all here indicates a mutual desire to stop Duplichiro, whether out of curiosity or righteous indignation. I intend to proceed with that in mind...” As usual, Matsunaga was a man who liked to run the conversation, and now, he was ready to move it forward.
Naturally, annoyed at the thought of his guild house being reduced to a mere venue, Stroganoff interrupted. “Hold on, Matsunaga.”
Matsunaga, in the manner of one humoring a long-time friend, just shrugged and fell silent.
Stroganoff cleared his throat, then stood up. “First, Matsunaga’s right about everything so far. We have to stop Duplichiro. Some like Matsunaga want to stop him because it’s fun, while others like Sir Kirschwasser and Iris want to stop him for personal reasons.”
“Me, too! I do, too! I cannot allow him to continue this outrage using Ichiro’s face!” Nem shouted.
“Oh, right, Nem, too...”
The only exception seemed to be Yuri, who was mainly there to help Iris. Yuri was also close with Felicia, so perhaps she w
as also acting as a proxy in her absence. She spoke rarely, and Kirschwasser hadn’t exchanged many words with her, but he thought she seemed a conscientious girl.
“By the way, why are you participating, Stroganoff?” Amesho asked while flitting through her messages.
“Well, you know... it’s exciting,” he said. “It feels a bit like defeating a secret boss.” His answer was just what one would expect from the leader of a top Achiever guild. “What about you, Amesho?”
“Me? ’Cause it sounds fun. Why else would I do it?”
That also seemed only natural; just what one would expect from the game’s foremost damsel player.
Taker, Sorceress, and Tomakomai offered similar answers. It was hard to tell exactly what they were thinking, but they didn’t seem like bad people. They just wanted to take part in a little bit of fun.
“Anyway, let’s move on.” Stroganoff took control of the conversation again. “Regarding Duplichiro’s combat abilities. I don’t think I need to explain the threat he poses by virtue of using Tsuwabuki’s avatar, but we have two points in our favor.”
The crowd let out a noise of interest.
“The first is that King’s actions nullified his use of GM privilege, including ‘Immortal’ status. The second is that he can’t use that man’s ultimate trump card, the microtransactions.”
“Are you so sure about that?” Matsunaga asked skeptically. “If Duplichiro’s intention is to imitate Mr. Tsuwabuki, I’d think he would use them.”
“But how?” Stroganoff asked. “Is he going to pay for things himself? He’ll run into hard limits.”
“You just don’t get it, Stroganoff.” Matsunaga clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. “He still has his GM privileges. The reason he stopped using ‘Immortal’ and other status-booster cheats is because he realized that that was not what Mr. Tsuwabuki would do. Calling up infinite microtransactions is something he would do, though, so he’ll do the same, without hesitation.”
“I agree,” Tomakomai nodded quietly. “We should first form a hypothesis about Duplichiro’s goals and identity. That will help us to speculate about what actions he’ll take.”
“Even if Duplichiro can’t use GM privilege to summon infinite Monetary Blades...” Sorceress picked up on the conversation, twirling her parasol, “...there was a report on the news earlier about an illegal hack done on Pony Entertainment. It said that 100,000 yen worth of virtual currency was stolen. If Duplichiro was the one behind that, he could summon up to 83 Monetary Blades.”
“Ughhh...” Stroganoff groaned under the force of the three-man attack. Indeed, one had to say he hadn’t thought these issues through nearly enough.
“His identity, eh?” Taker hummed, thinking about Tomakomai’s words. He repeated the opinion he’d stated to Kirschwasser earlier to the whole room. A childlike personality, efficiency in movement, clearly unaccustomed to the game. Bring all those mismatched elements together, and you had Duplichiro.
“I agree that there was no sign of ‘play’ in his actions,” Stroganoff immediately agreed, and each of the Knights nodded in turn.
But it was Iris who tilted her head in confusion. “What constitutes ‘play’?”
“Put simply, attempts to look cool,” Matsunaga answered. “Our physical abilities here are greater than they are in the real world, and we can make impressive visuals happen. Since we all like anime and video games, we inevitably end up imitating them to try to look cool.”
“The way that boys in elementary school used umbrellas to imitate Jump manga?”
“Precisely. For instance, Yuri, you do karate, yes?”
Yuri looked up, surprised at having the subject turned towards her.
“You employ stylish motions that give more power to your strikes. That’s what we mean by ‘play’ in the world of the game. You gain Arts, strike a pose, then execute your technique... Even if in reality, employing more focused motions and subtler strikes would be more efficient and leave you less open to counterattack.”
There was no such “play” in how Duplichiro fought. His motions suggested an intimate familiarity with the game system, with no preconceived notions about “doing this will add more power” rooted in the physical laws of the real world. But at the same time, the player didn’t seem very accustomed to the game itself.
“Almost like a machine,” Nem whispered.
Iris tilted her head. “But you said he was childlike, didn’t you?”
“A sentient machine, then, perhaps.”
“You’ve gotta be joking...”
The High Elf Philosopher Tomakomai interrupted their argument, a small, quiet smile on his face. “Well, it’s not impossible.”
The whole group fell silent at the words of the hero who had not logged out once since the service began. Everyone had assumed that tale was an exaggeration, but the more he talked, the more inscrutable this Tomakomai became.
“Hey, Tomakomai,” Amesho asked casually. “I’ve always wanted to ask... are you an AI?”
In that moment, it was Amesho’s observation, even more so than Tomakomai’s pronouncement, that got the blood running cold.
But the High Elf just smiled and shook his head. “I am human, Amesho.”
“Wow, so you’ve never logged out?”
“I have not.”
What on Earth was he, then?
There was a moment of silent tension. No one could think of what to say next, so it was Tomakomai who ventured forth first.
“Whether Duplichiro is an artificial intelligence, or controlled by a human... well, the fact that reactions are on the level of those of a program could indicate a nervous system connected to a terminal, merged directly with a CPU.” The technology he was talking about was way beyond anything any of them knew. “Whatever he is, we can hypothesize based on Taker’s description. The fundamental motivation behind his actions is ‘display my power to the weak.’ He has a small child’s self-consciousness, which would explain why he fled from King Kirihito once he judged him to be ‘better.’ Thus, the ‘childlike’ assessment seems extremely appropriate.”
“What about the idea that he wants to imitate Tsuwabuki?” Stroganoff asked.
Tomakomai nodded. “That also seems reasonable, and the fact that he may have willingly removed his ‘Immortal’ status in response to King Kirihito’s challenge suggests that it must be the case.”
Everyone fell silent at Tomakomai’s words. Even Amesho had closed her message windows. Hearing the Philosopher talk so loquaciously was, in itself, an unusual thing, and her face had “Has Tomakomai ever talked that much?” written all over it. Whether this was because of the game’s excellent expression writing, or Amesho just having an easy personality to read, was hard to say.
Tomakomai nudged up his thin-rimmed glasses and continued. “First, why don’t we send him a provocative friend message? If he takes the bait, we could set up an ambush and lead him to it.”
The room burst into surprised applause.
“It’s a good idea,” Matsunaga agreed. “Just waiting for him to take action could leave us with beginner and mid-level players mixed up in it. I’d rather not see that happen.”
Probably only a small portion of the game’s top-level players knew the facts of the account hacking incident. Since there had been no official announcement from the devs, there was no way for beginners and intermediate players to know what was going on. Rumors were certainly spreading via message boards and SNS, but with no proof, they were being almost completely ignored. Taking those circumstances into account, Tomakomai’s strategy was a sound one.
“So, we need to figure out who can send the provocative message,” Kirschwasser murmured.
All eyes turned to the same place: the sole designer for Iris Brand, the red-haired Elf, Iris.
“Huh? M-Me?!” Iris clearly hadn’t expected to be the one singled out, so she was genuinely flustered.
“I see. Iris, eh?” Stroganoff nodded. The other Knights seemed to agree.
> “Iris would indeed be perfect for it.”
“Yes, it’s got to be her.”
“I can think of no better choice.”
With Tiramisu, Gorgonzola, and Parmigiano all ganging up on her, Iris stood up and fought back. “Wait a minute! Why me? I mean, I know I’m pretty quick with an insult, but I’m not even that smart, and... writing a provocation is kind of... Right, Nem?”
“I agree that Iris is perfect for the job!”
“Nem!”
Nem’s mysterious face seemed to sparkle as she clasped her hands over Iris’s. A powerful reverence came into her emerald green eyes. Even though they were over ten years apart in age, the friendship and trust that they shared was ironclad. “I remember every word and line from the scorn you heaped upon me before our fashion show the other day! I just know you can dig deep down into their heart with provocations that might... no, that most certainly would make anybody doubt your humanity!”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Iris shrieked.
“Yes! It is!” There was no malice in Nem’s words whatsoever.
A little ways away, Taker whispered to Sorceress, “You’re pretty good at provocation, too,” but Sorceress merely lifted a teacup elegantly to her lips and responded, “Not as good as her.”
“All right. Those who agree with having Iris send the provocative message, please applaud now.”
Thunderous, unanimous applause broke out from those assembled in the guild house.
Iris, having been unremarkable since the day she was born, had never been on the receiving end of such applause on a stage, and was defenseless when her brain (misunderstanding the situation) began pumping out dopamine. With a bashful, satisfied expression, she found herself saying things like, “R-Really?” and “Well, if you really want me to...” She was truly vulnerable to peer pressure.
Soon after that, Iris started working on her message. Other players gathered around her to watch, going paler and paler at each word being typed. While they did, a shadow approached Kirschwasser.