Chapter 82: Professor Pencilgon's PK Laundering Class
Sunraku: "What was this again? It's a borrowed item, right?"
Pencilgon: "Right, right. I'd say it's one of the single best items in all of Shangri-La Frontier. After all, if you throw enough money at it, you can get power that surpasses even a Unique Monster."
Whether even an entire national budget could push it that far is debatable, Pencilgon muttered, as she began fiddling with the golden scales she'd pulled close — the Scales of Price, I think it was called.
Pencilgon: "Let's see... 'The Scales preserve balance. Turn experience into value. Return the proffered price'... No, that's wrong. Then... 'The Scales preserve balance. Turn the past into value. Return the proffered price'... This one. Silly me."
She'd been messing with a window that looked different from the usual — its frame was more ornate — and the moment she finished her operation, particles of light streamed out of Pencilgon's body and were sucked into the scales. After a brief flash, a small flower ornament and a single book appeared before her.
Pencilgon: "At the extreme, I'd steeled myself to not care if the Inventoria got taken. But since it's practically a cursed equipment that eats up an accessory slot, even the PKK penalty didn't confiscate it... Still, this one thing I absolutely didn't want to lose, so I... laundered it."
Sunraku: "Laundered?"
Pencilgon: "Hmm? Well, basically, it's a little trick to protect your belongings from the PK penalty."
When a player-killer gets killed — that is, gets PKK'd — all items they were holding at that moment transfer ownership to the person who killed them. Though if the killer doesn't collect them within a certain window, the items become ownerless. And at that same moment, all items belonging to the PK player that were stored in storage or the like are automatically sold off.
Pencilgon: "A player-killer's penalty is essentially twofold. First, your affection rating with nearly all NPCs hits rock bottom. Second, there's a fine that scales based on your crimes — basically, how much PK-ing you've done. The fine is equal to the bounty tied to a PK player's karma points, but that's not relevant here."
The troublesome part is the fine. Even though the total value of your sold-off items gets deducted from the fine, as long as any fine remains, every bit of money you could obtain through any means gets funneled straight into paying it off.
Oikatzo: "So how'd you buy that gear of yours, then?"
Pencilgon: "I threatened NPCs in Secondale and did barter trades with monster items."
Sunraku: "You're living like it's the post-apocalypse after civilization collapsed."
The technique used to protect your items from such thorough bankruptcy seizure is what's called "laundering."
Pencilgon: "But it's actually pretty complicated. Simply transferring an item to someone else won't cut it — it'll just get sold off like normal."
In other words, even if I'd received items from Pencilgon before she got PKK'd by Psyger-0, those items would've vanished the moment she was killed. It's like anything connected to a criminal gets seized. So the "just leave it with a trusted friend, problem solved!" approach won't work.
Oikatzo: "Then what about those scales? Why didn't they disappear?"
Pencilgon: "Because they weren't mine to begin with. Ownership belongs to an NPC organization called the Golden Scales. Even if I'd been holding them at the time, they probably would've just turned into an object — they wouldn't have become Psyger-0-chan's property."
And here's where the real trick of laundering comes in. Simply put, transferring an item isn't enough — it'll still be mercilessly sold off. But if the item was in a state of "ownership already completely relinquished" at the moment of PKK, it escapes the forced liquidation.
Pencilgon: "The 'Faraway Prayer Flower Ornament' was, until just now, in a state of being offered to the Scales of Price... meaning it was removed from my possession. I'd been receiving some extra Luck parameters as compensation for offering the flower ornament — in other words, I'd transferred its ownership to the Scales. And furthermore, items offered to the Scales, though returnable for a week by paying the counter-price, didn't physically exist in this world during that period. So they weren't affected by the item seizure."
Oikatzo: "...I see. And you just got it back with that operation now."
Pencilgon: "I burned forty past levels to get this and the 'Tome of Truth: Tombguard Edition' back though... Good grief, what an outrageous racket."
Sunraku: "Oh, the Tome of Truth's basically a spoiler-filled strategy guide, so it's almost useless."
Pencilgon: "Seriously?! Damn it!"
My condolences.
After clutching her head for a moment, Pencilgon pulled herself together. She stashed the Tome of Truth away, equipped the Faraway Prayer Flower Ornament, and continued.
Pencilgon: "And on top of that, I dumped my entire fortune into the Scales for the Wethermon fight, so there's barely anything left that could have been lost anyway. What's more, my main weapon — which I deposited with the Golden Scales as collateral to borrow the Scales — is fully owned by Golden Scales until the Scales are returned. In short... you can dodge the penalty seizure by either letting items flow completely into the market, or by physically erasing them from this world."
Sunraku: "That's seriously dirty."
She'd been all "I'm washing my hands and starting fresh," but she'd quietly protected her main weapon and most important items all along.
Oikatzo: "So how much is your fine, anyway?"
Pencilgon: "Roughly five hundred million Mani."
Sunraku: "I'm not lending you money."
Pencilgon: "Not borrowing, not borrowing. It's not an amount I can't pay back if I work at it. My idiot little brother's probably in the trillions — he got carried away and spawn-camped tons of low-level players even from clans with nothing but newbies."
Ugh... A fine on the scale of a national budget? The servers might shut down before he ever pays it off. Although Pencilgon casually claiming she can pay back five hundred million is pretty nuts in its own right.
Pencilgon: "I realized something during this whole Wethermon fight... Unique Monsters are money-makers."
Oikatzo: "...You sure say it plainly."
It's undeniably true, though. Even selling just one of the items inside the Inventoria would probably pay off a significant chunk of that debt in an instant. And if Wethermon was this lucrative, the odds are high that other Unique Monsters will be similarly profitable.
Pencilgon: "And with that in mind, I have a proposal."
Sunraku: "Selling the stuff in the Inventoria is up for discussion."
Oikatzo: "Sunraku, letting her negotiate means defeat is guaranteed."
Pencilgon: "Let's have a nice long chat about it...? No, not that. My proposal is this: why don't the three of us form a clan?"
A clan. I'd been involved with them a few times, but it was something I'd long considered outside my concern. True, after only seeing clans on the scale of Ashura Kai or Schwarz Vulf — practically guild-level organizations — I'd kind of forgotten, but... a clan doesn't necessarily need a ton of members.
Sunraku: "Fine by me. I'm not particularly tied to anywhere else."
Oikatzo: "Same here."
Pencilgon: "Done! Thanks for making this so quick."
Alright, then. The three of us paused for a beat, and...
Pencilgon: "I'd like to decide the clan name. My nomination: 'Pencilgon and Her Convenient Gofer Boys.'"
Oikatzo: "Works for me."
Sunraku: "Clan 'Pencilgon-chan and Her Convenient Gofer Boys' is officially formed."
Pencilgon: "I'd really prefer you took that as a joke!!"
If you're gonna get embarrassed after it's decided, don't propose it in the first place... Good grief. Let's see...
Sunraku: "How about 'Trash Game Alliance' or something?"
Oikatzo: "Go do that by yourself. How about 'Outrage'? We're all no-good bastards anyway, so that sounds cool, right?"
Pencilgon: "If someone who claims to have washed their hands of PK was in a clan called 'Outrage,' I'd never trust them."
Sunraku: "Yeah, I wouldn't turn my back to that."
Too likely to get stabbed from behind over pocket change. Rejected. After that, a loop of various ideas being proposed and immediately shot down by the other two continued. Specific examples:
"Decapitation Gate" — since we defeated the samurai Wethermon... Too bloodthirsty, rejected. "Unique Hunter" — since we're the three who took down a Unique Monster... Simplistically lame, rejected. "Gold Rush" — since we're strapped for cash, and for good luck... You're the only one strapped for cash, rejected.
Pencilgon: "Gold Rush is good though..."
Oikatzo: "You're the only one drowning in debt..."
Hmm, let's see... Something that sounds cool and fitting... Let's try...
Sunraku: "How about 'Wolfgang' — as in traveling wolves?"
Pencilgon: "Doesn't that overlap with Schwarz Vulf?"
Sunraku: "We're the ones who beat a Unique Monster — we're ahead of them. A straight upgrade. Any grade-schooler can grind levels. Plus, this is German — it's way cooler. Totally different league."
I mean, in terms of combat strength, the gap is probably worse than a cold game... but I doubt there are many other crazies like Psyger-0 running around, and the name value of "Unique Slayers" should give us some standing. Not that I have any intention of picking a fight with Schwarz Vulf or anything.
Pencilgon: "I see... I like it."
With a strangely meaningful, wicked grin, Pencilgon approved my proposal. Oikatzo, having no particular reason to object, agreed as well.
Pencilgon: "Fittingly, the birthday cake turned out to be for the clan's birth."
Oikatzo: "It all worked out, but why did we even order a birthday cake...?"
Pencilgon: "Probably nothing more than a whim... Oh, here it comes."
Additional orders had been placed, apparently. Mugs of fruit wine — not a shred of non-alcoholic consideration — were handed out to each of us, and Pencilgon took the lead.
Pencilgon: "Well then, to celebrate the birth of Clan 'Wolfgang'... Cheers!"
Sunraku & Oikatzo: "Cheers!"
We downed the fruit wine from our wooden mugs in one go. One thought:
Sunraku: "Sloppily sweet."
Oikatzo: "It's like barley juice with fruit dumped into it?"
Sunraku: "What's barley juice?"
Oikatzo: "Beer with the alcohol removed."
So it's like a hot dog without the wiener.
Pencilgon: "By the way, on the subject of forming a clan, there's one important matter... Who's going to be the clan leader?"
Oikatzo: "...Rock first..."
???: "Jan..."
???: "Ken!"
Me: Paper. Pencilgon: Rock. Oikatzo: Paper.
Pencilgon: "Best of three!"
Sunraku: "Denied."
Pencilgon: "Dammit!"
Sunraku: "Well, do your best, Pencilgon."
Pencilgon: "Sunraku-kun, you're the one cursed by a wolf name-wise — you do it... Actually, there's no way I'm winning a reaction-speed janken match, is there..."
Only now she realizes? When Oikatzo started the janken, it was already two against one beneath the surface.
Oikatzo: "Fittingly, it ended up exactly like 'Pencilgon-chan and Her Convenient Gofer Boys.'"
Sunraku: "Ossu! Boss-lady Pencilgon!"
Oikatzo: "Boss-lady Pencil! Shall we go buy you a yakisoba bread?!"
Pencilgon: "Wha— don't say stuff like my little brother when he's trying to act cool, it's embarrassing!"
I felt a tiny shred of sympathy for Orcelott-kun, treated as a living embarrassment.
And with that, things were settled. Pencilgon set off on a marathon to Fifticia, saying "I'm returning the Scales and getting my main weapon back." She's apparently down to around level 50 now — what's she planning to do?
Oikatzo, irritated that "my level's lower than Sunraku's and it pisses me off," headed to a later area for both leveling and exploration.
As for me, I'm headed back to Rabituza for now, waiting for Emul so I can check whether the reactor can be repaired. Since Pencilgon's broke, I can't get my hands on any Magic Scrolls at the moment. So I'd set a time for Emul to meet me in Thirdrema. Yeah, I'm basically using her like a tool, but... the fact that SLF is so absurdly well-crafted that you can literally mistake NPCs for living, breathing players is the anomaly here. Game NPCs are supposed to be like this. I convince myself of that.
Sunraku: "Five more minutes until Emul gets here..."
???: "Um... are you Sunraku-san, by any chance?"
Sunraku: "No, you've got the wrong person. I'm 'Sasoraku.'"
???: "Oh, is that so... sorry about that..."
Sunraku: "Not at all."
I declared this with an utterly cloudless smile (mask notwithstanding), and the moment the player who'd approached averted her eyes, I bolted into a back alley at full sprint.
???: "...Wait, font-wise, it's definitely 'Sunraku,' not 'Sasoraku'... Hey, where'd he go?!"
Sunraku: "Think I lost her."
Good grief. Thanks to that grand GM announcement, I feel like a Hollywood star being chased by paparazzi. At this rate, I've memorized the Thirdrema back-alley map layout just from all the hiding. Emerging from behind a pile of rotting wooden crates, I thought about the player who'd approached me — a female player whose name I hadn't caught, but who didn't seem like the actively aggressive type.
Sunraku: "Still, that player... her gear wasn't at a level appropriate for Thirdrema."
She was a cleric-type woman with equipment clearly befitting a far higher level.
Up until now, I'd been "that player dragging around a talking Vorpal Bunny in clothes." But after defeating Wethermon, I'd gained the additional fame of "pioneering Unique Monster slayer." The frequency of other players approaching me is probably going to go up... In the end, this damn "curse" makes me stand out in the worst way. Damn you, Lycagon.
Sunraku: "Alright, what now..."
Well, Rabituza first, I guess.
Author's Note:
Essentially: