Chapter 192: Light a Damp Match, and the Wolf Grows Its Pack

Even before SLF, NPC AI had advanced considerably. Of course, it doesn't have the precision of SLF, where you can segue from talking about the weather to what you ate for dinner last night into "So, what monster are we hunting again?" and get a flawless answer with zero trace of AI-ness. But still, as long as an NPC can roughly grasp the meaning from specific words or the other party's speech and respond accordingly, that's perfectly normal. There are games where even that much is impossible, but let's leave those aside.

Sunraku: "You—do you understand what it means that this sword was held by the Ammone Knight... no, by that monster?"

Stude: "Huh...?"

And as technology advances, there are some who grow more and more lively the more intelligent AI becomes. Precisely because the AI is excellent—and precisely because it's still just AI—there exists someone who, in a certain game, once talked a king and princess into consenting to be used as trap components.

Sunraku: "I'm asking if you understand."

Stude: "I-I get it... I get it! It means Dad died here, right?!"

NPCs are human yet not human. Their complex, unfathomable humanity has been stripped away, leaving only simplified "attribute personalities." They neither possess nor can possess information beyond what's written in the script. A villain remains a villain to the very end. What kind of life the old man who dies in the prologue lived doesn't even qualify as a MacGuffin.

According to her, NPCs are "simple keyholes." With the right tools, unlocking them is easy. When it comes to controlling an NPC whose character elements have been defined, the selection of those tools is the crucial point.

Sunraku: "No good. You don't understand a damn thing."

Stude: "Huh...? Wh-what don't I get?!"

Sunraku: "Listen, bed-wetter."

Stude: "I didn't wet myself!"

You're only saved by game-rated expression. Without that, you'd have absolutely pissed yourself. Be honest. Well, fine. The target is "a kid whose heart is broken by fear." The goal is "to rouse him." The necessary elements—the tools—for this are "a great father" and "the subordinates left behind."

Sunraku: "Listen. In this Ruluiath, besides the hordes of rotting fish paste, there are four monsters. The one holding this sword was one of them. And those things basically never leave the towers at the city's four corners."

Stude: "S-so what...?"

At times like this, she—Pencilgon—uses "lies." Strictly speaking, she also uses lies, but what I'm using is "analysis." In her case, it's terrifying how she piles lies upon lies and eventually flips everything into truth, like flipping an entire row in Othello. Who the hell could imitate that?

Sunraku: "Your old man... he fought and died. And he went and challenged it himself."

Stude: "...!"

Sunraku: "You get what that means, right? So with that in mind, I'll ask you: what are you doing in a place like this?"

Good, good. This is working. The roleplay's going nicely. I'm used to buttering up NPCs. A persuasion technique that even worked on Vash—who's probably a Unique Monster—can't possibly be stopped by one shitty brat.

Sunraku: "Your father fought. Well, the fact that he died there means he probably wasn't all that strong... Ah, don't glare, don't glare. The story isn't over yet."

Use the outcome as a whip to beat him senseless. Use the process that led there as candy to bait him. Dead men tell no tales—so I'll use his cutlass and his death without a shred of restraint.

Sunraku: "When it comes to your own strength, you know it best yourself, one way or another. Your old man probably knew too. But even so, he challenged the Ammone Knight. Why he did that... you understand, don't you?"

Stude: "That's..."

Sunraku: "It was for you... No, not just you. For the subordinates waiting not here at the bottom of the sea, but back on that dim yet beloved Deadbeat Alley in Fifticia—that's why he gripped that cutlass. People call that 'resolve,' and they honor it."

Stude: "Resolve..."

Sunraku: "As it happens, you've stumbled into the exact same rut as your old man. But a child should surpass the parent. What is it you should be doing? Trembling under the bed? That's not it, is it? It's steeling your resolve and moving forward."

Stude: "Moving... forward..."

Sunraku: "Scared of walking through the darkness? Well, what a coincidence. We're the kind of 'pioneers' whose job is to jam a torch into that darkness and push forward for the sake of those who'll follow. I'll take the job of navigator. Sound good?"

I focus every ounce of my soul into a "read the room" aura with directionality, and telepathically beam it toward Rust and Mold. It seems to have gotten through. Though their ad-libbing is a little rough, the two of them follow my lead.

Mold: "Th-that's right! There are other comrades we can count on besides just us here!"

Rust: "...Either way, we have to fight to get out of here. One extra brat is nothing."

Stude: "Quit calling me a brat..."

You damp-match bastard. Still not catching fire? No—I've done the closest possible thing to a correct roleplay. The rest, time will handle.

Sunraku: "We're storming the landlord of this shit-hole city in two days. So find your own kind of resolve by then."

With that, I exit the house, Emul still perched on my head... by climbing up through the hole in the roof.

Way to ruin the cool exit, damn it!

Rust: "...So, what now?"

Sunraku: "I'd like to keep pushing ahead with taking down the Blockers as planned, but leaving the other players out of it would be a bit..."

There are boss drops and things to consider—that balance matters. That said, doing nothing at all would be boring in its own way...

Mold: "Ah, how about gathering materials?"

Sunraku: "I'm about to hit around one gross of drop items..."

Rust: "One gross?"

Sunraku: "The state of one dozen having one dozen."

Mold: "144... That won't fit in your inventory, will it?"

Sunraku: "Well, you see, I pulled some strings here and there."

Rust: "Pulled some strings."

All hail Inventoria. More valuable than powerful weapons or armor, this thing. It's so absurdly convenient I'd accept it even if they patched it someday. An unlimited inventory with no weight to consider is already broken, and on top of that, it's useful as an escape method. Hell, as long as you can secure the bare minimum MP, there's not even a usage limit.

Sunraku: "Ah, right. Rust, what about over there?"

Rust: "Over there... Ah, yeah. I've definitely been wanting to stop by at least once."

I prompt them to continue with my gaze and presence. Sounds like they've got some interesting info.

Sunraku: "Now this is... how do I put it? Simply incredible."

Mold: "It's like something right out of a picture book."

On the outer edge of Ruluiath, at the outskirts of town, in a place that was probably originally a sandy beach—a massive collection of shipwrecks. Rust and Mold had found it during their earlier area survey, but were attacked by fishmen partway through and had to leave it. This... this mountain of treasure chests piled up with a kind of brainless glee, this tastelessly gaudy glittering gold—that's what greeted me when the two of them led me here.

Rust: "Even just one of these could fetch a pretty decent sum."

Mold: "We figured we might as well grab as much as we could."

Sunraku: "Is it okay? Me getting a share of this too?"

Mold: "Well, inventory-wise, we can't exactly carry it all either."

Well, for normal players, sure. But I have Inventoria. This hoard—piled up inside a room of a shipwrecked galleon by someone unknown—if fully cashed in, could probably build a small castle. Taking it all would be a bit much, though... But then again, leaving leftovers would be a disservice to the items. Hmm... Ah, right.

Sunraku: "Now that I think about it, I forgot to ask. You two are free right now, yeah?"

Rust: "Free?"

Sunraku: "Not affiliated with a clan, right?"

Mold: "That's right."

Right. I'd already talked through all the details with those scumbags back at the after-party. Just remembering that moment threatens to unleash a chain reaction of sealed-away memories, so I clamp the lid down tight... Ugh, chugging lemon squash from a beer mug... Root Vegetable Carnival... Gah, keep your heart strong.

Sunraku: "No, I mean, with the robot thing and all, I was thinking of asking if you'd join our clan."

Rust: "...If there are quotas or anything, no thanks."

Sunraku: "Ah, we don't have that kind of thing. Basically, being in the same clan is all—we don't even have a base."

I've got to repay the favor for providing the Unique that led to Ctarnidd, and being in the same clan would make things easier on that front.

Sunraku: "I explained this before, but we in 'Wolfgang'—current membership three—co-own the robots. From what I've heard, we can make them clan-owned assets."

Rust: "...So if we join this Wolfgang whatever..."

This is the final push. I'll summon all four Tactical Machine Beasts right here!

Sunraku: "It's not like handling these things would be all that diffic—"

CRASH! SNAP! CRUNCH! KABOOM!!

Sunraku: "..."

Mold: "..."

Rust: "..."

Yeah. Thinking about it now, of course if you pull out machines bigger than human-size inside a rotting, probably moldy ship, the floor's going to give way and you're going to fall through.

Sunraku: "Oh, shiiiiit—?!"

Mold: "Th-the robots...!"

Rust: "If we make that much noise, the fishmen are gonna come!"

Emul: "Actually, I can already hear them getting closer, waa!!"

Sunraku: "Dammit, we'll retrieve the robots later! I'm taking every last piece of this treasure!!"

Consideration for others? Shut up! You only get to think about that kind of thing when you've got the bare minimum of breathing room yourself!! Money! I need money! Repairing and upgrading my weapons costs money too!! Especially the repair costs on Togetsu — Moonblades: Waxing & Waning and the Gilta Brille gauntlets...

Akitsu Akane: "Good evening! So everyone's here! ...Wait, you all look really worn out. What happened?!"

Sunraku: "Well, we had a little... Great Ruluiath Marathon..."

Akitsu Akane: "I'm not really good at long-distance running, but I can do about 2500 or so!"

Rust: "Sunraku, you moron. Moron."

Yeah, I've got no excuse... Ah, right.

Sunraku: "Akitsu Akane, are you in a clan right now? If not, any interest in ours?"

Akitsu Akane: "Wow, this is the first time I've ever been invited to a clan! Absolutely!!"

That was fast.

Suzaku: "Hello, Suzaku here. I specialize in flight capabilities and surprise attacks with my heat sw—gwaaaahh!?"

Seiryu: "Hello, Seiryu here. I was the very first to be activat—gwaaaahh!?"

Genbu: "I was the heaviest to begin with, so—gwaaaahh!?"

Byakko: "I hadn't been mentioned even once until just n—gwaaaahh!?"