Chapter 55: Putting Feelings Into a Moment, Part 3
Rakuro: "Nnnngh... I've been doing nothing but SLF lately. My body's gone soft..."
Jogging in a rolled-up track suit with zero fashion sense whatsoever, I struggled to get my ragged breathing under control. Gamers live and die by their bodies. The very nature of full-dive games makes your muscles atrophy, so if you slack off on managing your real-life stats, it bleeds into your gameplay. That's why, whenever I go shopping, I make a point of running all the way to the convenience store three stores farther down — even in blistering heat like this.
...Honestly, I'm starting to regret it.
Rakuro: "So... hot..."
The sunlight wasn't just beaming down — it was hammering the earth with blistering heat and glare, and the asphalt was firing heat right back up from below. You don't need to put up a fight, asphalt. Just lose. There's no point in heated flooring during summer. Feeling the moisture drain from my body like I was taking slip damage, I finally spotted the convenience store and dashed inside.
Rakuro: "Aaaaaah..."
Air conditioning is the greatest. Humanity should rebel against nature way more, seriously. Wiping sweat with my track suit sleeve, I started wandering the aisles. First things first: I'm almost out of energy drinks, and the next two weeks are going to be brutal. Better grab two dozen.
Rakuro: "Hm?"
I thought I caught a glimpse of someone who shouldn't be here. I turned around — magazine section. Rows of magazines spanning every category, but one caught my eye. On the cover was a young man with a bright, refreshing smile — the exact opposite of that usual smirk he wears when he's mocking people.
Weekly VR Full-Diver, feature story: "Exclusive Interview with Pro Gamer Uomi Kei."
An interview with Uomi Kei, aka Modor Katzo. I gotta wonder what they asked him about. The guy spews venom completely unconsciously and naturally — whoever had to edit that piece must've had a rough time.
Honestly, the only reason it caught my attention was the name of the friend I'd been strategizing with just hours ago in Unite Rounds — the two of us hashing out plans for the battle two weeks from now while he stuffed his face with tea sweets. I don't really care much about god-tier game news beyond that...
Oh.
Rakuro: "Shangri-La Frontier summer mega-update... so this is what Pencil Warrior was talking about."
Right. I'm playing a god-tier game now. I should really be reading magazines like this... More importantly, do they publish a Weekly Trash-Game Hunter? No? Didn't think so.
Rakuro: "Hmm... huh. I see — new area 'the Severed Sea,' the 'Pioneer Fleet,' an undiscovered 'New Land'... and a new job class, 'Rider,' huh?"
The article was packed with what looked like in-game screenshots — untamed wilderness untouched by human hands, strange silhouettes barely visible in the forest depths, a sea surface with something surging up from below. Photo after photo designed to stoke your curiosity, paired with tantalizing taglines. And rolling it out in summer — they know exactly how to pull in new players. Trash games always drop the ball on that kind of marketing... Huh, there are a few other fixes coming too.
Rakuro: "Let's see... whoa, hmm..."
Whoops — I got sucked in. I've got stuff to prep as soon as I get back. Gotta wrap up this shopping trip fast. I tossed two twelve-packs of energy drinks into my basket — clank, clank. Oh right, should grab some snacks too.
Rakuro: "Just these."
Clerk: "That'll be 8,930 yen."
I sacrificed one of the Yukichi-sans in my wallet and took my change along with a ridiculously heavy plastic bag. These days electronic money dominates everything, but I still prefer the feel of real cash changing hands. That sensation of a single piece of paper turning into something thousands of times heavier — there's something satisfying about it.
Rakuro: "Alright, time to head home..."
???: "U-um! You're Hizutome-kun... right?!"
Rakuro: "Hm?"
I can't imagine there are that many people with the surname Hizutome, so this was probably directed at me. I'd already stepped out of the convenience store, so I turned around — my body immediately assaulted by the sweltering heat — and there stood a girl in a crisp white dress. What's that hairstyle called again? It's named after someone... Bubbly Deb? No, that's not it.
Wait, forget the hair — the name. I've definitely seen her before. Somewhere... Oh, right. Same grade, I think... uh... Crap. Think faster, me.
Rakuro: "Uh... Saiga-san?"
???: "Y-yes! Saiga! Rei Saiga! Wh-what a coincidence, running into you here!"
Rakuro: "S-sure is."
Maybe it was the heat, but Saiga-san's face was bright red as she waved her hands around frantically, trying to... make an impression? Something about this reminded me of Emul. Anyway, it's coming back to me now. Rei Saiga — we were in the same class freshman year, and now I think she's in the class next door. When the new semester started, I remember some classmate wailing, "Why couldn't I be in Saiga-san's claaaaass?!" I was only half-listening at the time — too busy daydreaming about a new game from a trash-game developer whose screenshots alone reeked of disaster. Funny what sticks in your memory.
Rei: "I-it's, it's so hot today, isn't it!"
Rakuro: "Yeah, and it's only July. August is gonna be brutal."
I seriously don't want to go outside at all. Maybe I should just order energy drinks online... nah, that's kind of gross, right? But it's so damn hot...
Rei: "U-um, um... th-that looks really heavy! What did you, um, buy?!"
Rakuro: "Huh? Oh, energy drinks. I'm planning to basically hole up and game for about two weeks, so..."
Rei: "C-!"
...C?
Rei: "Could it be?! Shangri-La Frontier?!"
How did she know? I gave Saiga-san — who looked about ready to bounce right out of her sandals — a skeptical look. But then again, to anyone not deep into gaming, "video games = SLF" probably sounds perfectly reasonable these days. The game's got that kind of name recognition now.
Rakuro: "Uh... yeah, pretty much."
Rei: "I, um...! ......"
She froze. Like, completely locked up — I almost took a step back from the sheer frame-drop of it all. In-game, this kind of thing you can just laugh off. In real life? Genuinely kind of terrifying.
Rei: "I-I-I p-play... SLF... too..."
Rakuro: "Huh."
I'd heard she came from some old, prestigious family — the whole perfect Yamato Nadeshiko package. I figured her life was all flower arrangement and tea ceremony running in parallel. Didn't peg her for a gamer.
Rei: "I-if you'd like...! M-maybe... t-together..."
Oh, a message.
Rakuro: "Sorry, one sec."
Rei: "Eep!"
Yep, it's Pencil Warrior. Let's see... "Hurry up and get here"? Just how much of a slave-driver forced march is she planning to run? Let me shop in peace a little... Whoa, stop with the rapid-fire messages! My inbox is filling up with unreads at terrifying speed!
Rakuro: "Uh, sorry, Saiga-san. My friend's rushing me, so I gotta..."
Rei: "Oh, yes! I'm sorry for holding you up!"
So humble. It's not like she needs to apologize for anything. Then again, maybe that kind of thoughtfulness is what being a functioning adult is all about. I gave a small wave and broke into a run, heading home.
Rakuro: "Oh, right."
If Saiga-san plays SLF, I should've asked for her player name.
Slightly ticked off by the barrage of messages that bordered on harassment, I logged in and found myself in my bed in Rabituza.
Emul: "Good morning...wa!"
Sunraku: "Yeah, uh... morning."
I returned the greeting to the ever-energetic lop-eared rabbit, but my mind kept drifting back to what Pencil Warrior had said.
NPCs don't respawn, huh...
Respawning is a feature so fundamental to gaming that you take it for granted. A game you can only play once isn't really a game at all. Though, to be fair, there were games that deleted your save data on game over. You can guess how those were received.
I watched Emul — her expressions absurdly vivid for a game that prides itself on realism — and thought it over. What I'm challenging two weeks from now is a Unique Monster: Wethermon the Tombguard. It belongs to the same category as Lycagon the Nightslayer, and it doesn't take a genius to see that its power is on a whole different plane. If I bring Emul along, there's a high probability she'll die. And more to the point, since she's treated as a party member, adding another body would throw off Pencil Warrior's carefully laid plans.
Which means I should talk to her about this ahead of time.
Sunraku: "Hey, Emul — there's something I haven't told you."
Emul: "What is it...wa?"
Sunraku: "So, in two weeks, I'm picking a fight with something called Wethermon the Tombguard. When that happens, we might need to temporarily disband the party."
If I had to put Emul's reaction into sound effects, it'd be something like: "Byoh!" — "THUNK!" — "whump."
A few seconds of freeze-up — exactly like something I'd seen not long ago — and then Emul launched herself into the ceiling with cartoon-level jumping power, crashed back down onto the bed, and started writhing around clutching her head.
Emul: "Hwaaaaaaa...?!"
Sunraku: "Wh-whoa, you okay? Need an herb?"
Emul: "W-W-We... WETHERMONNNNN?!"
Sunraku: "Uh... yeah."
Emul: "I-I have to tell Daddy... waaaaa!"
Sunraku: "Whoa—!"
So much for her usual aversion to exercise. Emul practically tumbled out of the room. The fading echo of "...waaa... waaa... waaa..." bouncing down the hallway did get a small laugh out of me, but... did I just trigger some kind of flag?
Sunraku: "Hmm... I should probably apologize to Pencil Warrior... or Pencilgon in here — and Katzo, later."
Just a gut feeling, but I don't think I should skip this event.
About five minutes later, Emul came back.
Emul: "Daddy is calling for you...wa!"
She was still in full panic mode as she dragged me to Vash. When I arrived, Vash was wearing an expression more severe than I'd ever seen on him.
Crap. Did I step on a landmine? If I triggered some flag that tanks my affection rating, I'm blaming Pencil Warrior for this. Not my fault.
Vash: "Oi... I heard the story from Emul, but I wanna hear it from your own mouth... You're pickin' a fight with that half-dead bastard... That true?"
Sunraku: "Ah... yeah. Strictly speaking, I'm just lending a hand to a friend who's the one taking him on."
"Half-dead bastard," huh. I don't know much about Wethermon the Tombguard. That's exactly why I need to file away every word from Vash — just like with Lycagon the Nightslayer, he knows way too much about Unique Monsters.
Vash: "You get it, don'tcha? You're still weak."
Sunraku: "Yeah."
Level 31. If I charged in with zero prep time, I'd be dead in 99.9% of cases, no question. Wouldn't even qualify as a meat shield.
But this part is critical. Questions from NPCs have a high chance of affecting affection ratings and event flags. What this moment demands isn't some player-ish answer like "Two weeks is plenty to power-level and meta-game with research, so no problem." What I need here is role-playing grounded in this world's logic and my character's identity. That's the best answer for this situation.
So how do I play this? Let's assess the scenario: "Persuade the overpowered character who's trying to stop me from doing something that's essentially suicide." Good — this is a classic. The question is what to base my persuasion on and how to frame it...
Wait. Calm down, Sunraku. You're the man who survived the nightmare that is Fuckaria. Think about how much you had to kiss Faria's ass, how hard you worked to manage every party member's affection levels. Dig into your memory for the right words. Recall Vash's character. Remember your position here. The keyword is... Vorpal Soul!
Sunraku: "...It's not like I'm doing this because I'm sure I can win, aniki."
Vash: "Hoh?"
The words connected. The sentence formed. Time to show him my role-playing chops!