by Yuu Kamiya
Next, per Sora’s request, Emir-Eins prepared to shift.
“…You scrappy little doll.”
“Reply: Hen. Lösen: Asura-Apokryphon.”
As the two glared at each other with their parting remarks, Emir-Eins vanished.
Peace had been restored to the Annex of the Shrine—for real this time.
“…You… Just what are you bringing into my house…?” groaned the Shrine Maiden, now grasping the general gist of things.
“It’s not my— Okay, I guess it’s my fault… Sorry. We’ll go.”
“…Shrine Maiden…… We’re, sorry, okay…?”
Sora objected immediately, then shook his head. He and Shiro both slumped over and apologized. They were the ones who had come to the Shrine. From the Shrine Maiden’s point of view, all they’d done was cause trouble. To begin with, they’d come here in order to run from Ex Machina. And now that Ex Machina knew where they were, they’d probably be back in a jiffy… In any case, Sora and Shiro had better skedaddle. They’d better have Jibril shift them somewhere where, this time, they definitely wouldn’t find them—
“Ino Hatsuse. You brought them here, did you? Go help.”
“At your command, O Holy Shrine Maiden… But we have no duty to help them, have we?”
Just as Ino said, the Shrine Maiden had no duty to help Sora and Shiro. Even when they’d saved her friend—Holou—that was just a matter of using one another. The trust of a gamer, and all the more so that of an agent plenipotentiary, was by no means reliance—but—
“We haven’t, have we? Still, love, I’d hate to make enemies of those monsters.”
That’s right—it was because of a command based on a coolheaded “calculation” that Ino sat politely before Sora and Shiro.
“…Hmm. So, King Sora, they have mistaken you for the one they love. This is a most pitiable state of affairs.”
“…Uh, yeah… Never would’ve expected it, but I’m glad you understand…”
At Ino’s serious demeanor, Sora felt a seedling of friendship sprout in his heart, and then—
“Indeed… Ex Machina is truly to be pitied… What would anyone have to do to deserve this? Of all possibilities, to fall for a damned monkey like you…!”
Upon the next words Ino spoke, fist trembling, Sora cursed the illusion.
—Damn you, you old fart.
Sora almost said it, but instead only incorporated the tone of resentment into his next question.
“Let’s be straight, okay…? What can I do to resolve this peacefully?”
It really was no laughing matter. He didn’t want them to go extinct, and he was glad they said they were his allies, but even that was a mistake. If he slipped up and got on their bad side, in the worst case—so much for his all-powerful concert equipment.
“…A sleazebag like you must’ve had experience with misunderstandings resulting in stalking a few or maybe a thousand times.”
Sora would very much appreciate it if one of those experiences had furthermore resulted in stabbing. Regrettably, though, what with those Ten Covenants and all, the old fart was not dead yet. But if anyone had some idea of how to deal with stalkers, Ino Hatsuse should be the guy—not that Sora’s expectations were very high, but he was grasping at straws here.
“…King Sora, what has come over you? I should not expect this.”
However—Ino narrowed his eyes keenly.
“It embarrasses me to think how I have been consistently outstripped by one unable to recognize something so simple.”
“…………You…what…?”
—Simple?
That was Ino’s conclusion, his eyes brimming with a vague disappointment. He sighed at Sora, who was still befuddled, before spelling it out.
“Stop being a quivering little virgin and go get laid, you dumb ape.”
—So they’ve got the wrong guy. So what?
The man notorious for thinking with his lower half sneered, displaying his fangs as well as his true nature.
“Jibril, let’s go. This time, somewhere Emir-Eins and the others can’t—”
Sora and Shiro got to their feet and prepared to head home as if to say they’d been mistaken to expect anything for even a second.
“…Sir, could it be that you truly have not realized?”
Still, Ino’s voice, sincerely doubtful, deeply surprised, kept them.
“Do you not grasp that the Ex Machinas have a hardware lock that prevents them from reproducing with those other than specified?”
“Exactly! So how’s it gonna help for me to agree to make—?”
“In such a case, you may embrace them as you will. If you are not the man they seek, reproduction will be impossible.”
…
……
…………?
“—…Huh? Uh, whuhh…?”
Sora took a whole minute to mull over Ino’s words and then produced some foolish noises. What would happen if he agreed to make babies with them? He wasn’t the guy they were looking for. So the lock would stop him. There you go. Not the guy. Done.
…No, no, no… Wait, wait, wait. Calm down, Sora, virgin, eighteen!! It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, how could he have missed that—?!
—Something was wrong here. Meanwhile, amidst Sora’s confusion, Ino came in and packed it up.
“The mistake, moreover, originates from them alone. Mistaking you for someone from six thousand years ago.”
“…Uh, yeah… I guess…”
“You must only answer their demands. Who could possibly blame you?” Ino piled it on. “Once you prove that you are not the man they seek, they will have no choice but to accept that the man has passed. Their only option will be to wager the release of their lock in a game with you and lose. After all, it’s that or perish.”
…Uh… Huh? I—why did I say no, again…?
An onslaught of perfect logic assailed Sora, when—
“……Brother.”
—his little sister’s subzero gaze brought him scurrying back to his senses with a yelp.
“Hey! That’s the thing! I can’t expose Shiro to R-18—”
“Sir… Please consider the matter calmly. First of all, do you not realize that this is your only chance to experience sexual intercourse?”
“—Nice job implying that I’ll never have another chance, bastard.”
…Not that I’m denying it. Sora groaned, but Ino went on.
“I understand that you have your own issues, Sir. But do they justify allowing Ex Machina to perish?”
“Well, uh… I guess not. But I can’t be away from Shiro—”
“You could simply request of Miss Jibril that she block the light and sound, for Queen Shiro’s benefit.”
Ino kept settling the issues one after another.
“Is this not preferable to the guilt of having allowed an entire race to cease to be?”
And yet, Ino’s words made the vague unease within Sora rear its head further and further as if in inverse proportion.
—No. Something was wrong.
Ino’s assertions made perfect sense. Clear as day. Could it really be that he’d overlooked…something so simple? The way the Ex Machinas acted; the way they’d trapped Sora; the way they came on to him. So many things felt off. For instance—
“One final comment. They demanded that you choose one of them with whom to reproduce, as I understand. If this be so—you could very well do just as they recently proposed. I see no reason to refuse.”
Sora half listened to Ino’s words, brainstorming ideas and putting them in order. He struggled to identify what was wrong—and then, at last, he prostrated himself and came to a solid conclusion.
“Can you not engage them all in intercourse and select one for reproduction thereafter?”
“I gotta save the robot girls!! Bye, gotta go! Forgive me, O wise teacher!!”
—He’d just overlooked it!!
How could he have overlooked it? People overlook things!!
> “Sorry to impose on you, Shrine Maiden! Jibril, we’re going back to Elkia! Time waits for no one!!”
“…You really know how to impose, at that…”
“Yes, Master. Allow me to prepare for a long-distance shift.”
As he was bathed in the Shrine Maiden’s icy glare and Jibril’s sparkles…
“Maaaan! You know how it is! I’m totally not looking forward to this, y’know? But what can ya do?! Pretty girls say I have to go save them, I guess I’ll go and give the world a good saving! If heaven wills it, I mean!!”
…Sora’s head grew cool, cooler, coolest as he lamented. His folly was unfathomable… Why hadn’t he used common sense? There were twelve beautiful girls falling over themselves, begging him for it as they changed their appearance to suit his taste! Made-to-order maid robots coming on to him! Refuse? Who the hell did he think he was?! Sora, virgin, eighteen! Don’t get so full of yourself, cherry boy!
“…But, Brother, you’re not him… You’d be…deceiving them…”
Shiro pouted sullenly at her brother’s fierce self-flagellation. Normally, this would be enough to stop Sora, but today—
“I would… But if it’s what it takes to save someone, your brother will lie, cheat, and steal…” Sora answered, his gaze merciful, as if taking on mankind’s original sin. “Even if I am hated for it, even if I am blamed forevermore! I shall accept the responsibility…for all.”
As Sora spoke of love and benevolence for all things living without reward, his eyes sparkled with the anticipation of a filthy kickback for his base desires.
“Now, let us say adieu to Sora, virgin, eighteen! And sally forth to welcome Sora, non-virgin, eighteen!!”
Sora’s call to arms toward his future was met with a mumble.
“…Mm? Umm… Sir. I think you may be a bit confused?”
“Is that so, Teacher?! Then guide your foolish apprentice! Yeah!”
Sora tapped his foot as Ino pondered.
“Well… Sir, they are machines. Not only that, but presenting themselves on the basis of your pornography…”
“That is so! Have you no objections?!”
While noticing that Jibril seemed to be taking much longer to prepare for a shift than usual, Ino carefully mentioned the hypothesis he’d formed to address this difficult question.
“Might they not be considered…a mere masturbation aid…?”
……
“Well. How do I put this? King Sora, a non-virgin? …Ha. Impossible.”
……
Then, all of a sudden… All the threads, all the missing pieces—Sora felt them all come together.
“Ah… I see… That’s what it was…” He spoke softly, with a smile of an ascetic who had just achieved nirvana. “Jibril… Sorry for the trouble—can we change our destination?”
“—Eh? Ah, yes. Well then…where shall we set our course?”
At last he could see everything, what was behind all those countless weights. The true nature of Ex Machina’s words and actions, and most of all—
“Anywhere… Just as long as they can’t find us, anywhere…”
In short: Tee-hee-hee! Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. Why hadn’t he thought of such a simple solution?
—It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it. Deep down, he knew.
“…If it sounds too good to be true… Ha-ha… I knew it…”
Sora, the virgin eighteen-year-old, knew it wouldn’t be happening to him any time soon. Shedding a tear for the binding nature of the world—the self-correcting nature of history—Sora and his crew leaped through space.
The red moon shone on the island of Kannagari. Sora and Shiro walked a residential area on the outskirts. They were very near the house of a little Werebeast girl they knew, Izuna Hatsuse.
“…This is pretty close to the Shrine… Is Ex Machina really not going to find us here?” Sora had totally thought that they’d be warping to the other side of the world.
“N-no… It’s like what they say in your world about being right under one’s nose—” Jibril was beaming confidently, but appeared exhausted. “I made a long-distance shift intentionally to a nearby location, and I severed the crack in space. Even Ex Machina is incapable of reopening severed space, and little could they expect that we used this much power to go three hundred kilometers.”
—Not that Sora or Shiro had any idea what she meant by “severing space.”
“…To think that even you get this worn out shaking off Ex Machina… Damn.”
“Well, they may be worn-out ancient rubbish, but they are my acknowledged enemies who slew Artosh, god of war.”
Jibril sounded weirdly excited, but Sora thought:
—Really?
They were some kind of bullshit, you could say. Rank Ten, my ass—the system’s gotta be rigged. According to Jibril’s records, it had been because they couldn’t use magic—but, d00d. They’d designed virtual spirit junction nerves—those taillike cables—and made equipment to murder spirits like gasoline to produce the same effects as magic. Apparently, it wasn’t technically magic. But that brought them neck and neck with Jibril. Such bullshit. And then the Ten Covenants counted Elementals among the “sixteen seeds,” so Ex Machina couldn’t kill spirits anymore. Magical shit be damned, they shouldn’t even have been able to operate after that—but here they were.
—They’d adapted. They’d realized they couldn’t use gasoline anymore and adopted renewable energy. Probably in a flash. These guys were so OP it wasn’t even funny—but. If Sora had faced these OP hacks—and they’d really slain Artosh—
“…By the way, Master, is it really all right? That is, not to return to Elkia?”
Sora, who’d been lost in thought, twitched and stopped.
“Ah— Oh no! Of course, Master, I have no intention of interfering in your decision!”
Seeing this, Jibril hurriedly descended from the air, folded her wings, and knelt—
“It is my sentiment that, considering how preposterous it would be to bequeath your noble chastity to these poor imitators of my service to you, it would be more appropriate for you to use your first slave first, that is, your humble servant—”
“…That’s not…the point…! Jibril, freeze…”
Jibril was sliding sideways from an apology to an entreaty, starting to remove her clothes, when Shiro halted her process. But both the frozen Jibril’s gaze and that of the Shiro who froze her asked the same question.
—Why’d you give up on the hanky-panky?
Meeting their gazes, Sora smirked…heh.
“Is it all right, you ask? Ha-ha… Like hell it’s all right! Shit!!”
The very rude and inconsiderate scream that echoed through the entire neighborhood caused Shiro to swing her hands over her ears.
“To what extent must I be cockblocked?! Just how far does this world intend to test me, huh?!”
The floodgates had been broken, and his rancor could not subside. In tears, Sora thought:
—Okay, fine, whatever! So there’s no sex? Sure, that’s cool, too!! I get it, already!! I’ve got enough culture not to demand hardcore smut out of a cheesecake game!! But, d00d!
“Why you gotta bait me?! You put in hardcore assets, the characters, the art, the whole damn scene, and then you say there’s no way to trigger it—you corporate assholes have a bug in your brains!!”
Debug your damn game! Sora was about to scream next—but wait. The debuggers and programmers aren’t to blame, he corrected himself, shaking his head.
“Yeah. I guess it is possible if you want to. I could go back to Elkia right now and have a harem.”
You could trigger the scene. You could play it.
“But if you do it, you can’t win?! Is this trolling or what?!”
But if you did, you were stuck. No possibility of a do-over. So whose fault was this shitty design? The producer’s? The director’s? The writer’s—?!
“……Brother… Calm down…”
“You can’t w
in…? What do you mean?”
His little sister’s chilling command and Jibril’s consternation were just enough to rein him in. Sighing so deeply as to expel his soul, Sora sat on the road with a thump.
“…What do I mean? Just what I said…”
Ino’s story? If they knew he was the wrong guy, Ex Machina would release their lock and reproduce.
Why? Because otherwise they’d perish. It should go without saying.
—But that was wrong.
“Even if they know I’m the wrong guy, they won’t reproduce—they’ll choose to go extinct.”
Thus, the cockblock was assured. They looked doubtfully at him.
“…You mean…Ex Machina…wants to go extinct…?”
Shiro flopped into Sora’s lap as he rested his back against the wall of the alley.
“I dunno about that… If they actively wanted to, they probably would’ve died out a long time ago…” Sora put his hand on the head of his sister who had taken her comfortable default position. “But I can say, in the worst case, these guys don’t care if they go extinct.”
The other two looked at him for proof. But it was simple; Sora answered.
“If that wasn’t the case, they wouldn’t threaten to go extinct. It wouldn’t work.”
If you don’t do what I want, I’ll kill myself! That only worked when they were really ready to kill themselves. Sora couldn’t say for sure that he understood the feelings of machines. Still—the Ex Machinas’ eyes as they used the threat of their extinction to force him to play chess…were serious. It had been with a foreboding close to conviction that Sora had accepted—and.
That’s what was eating at him.
“…Look… Ex Machina was the race that triggered the end of the war, right…?
Then they were the makers of this world where everything was decided by games. Why would they be willing to sacrifice their race? Why—
“Why are they so willing to break this game…?!”
He didn’t get it. He didn’t get why they would mistake him for someone from six thousand years ago. He didn’t get any of this.