Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 1

by Blitz Kiva

  If Ichiro tried to counter with Strash, the winner would simply be the one whose command landed first... and by a matter of milliseconds.

  The various tricks one could use in the real world to shave down that timing were impossible in this inflexible system, making this less of a duel with swords, and more of a game of high-level rock-paper-scissors.

  Ichiro clenched his open hand into a fist and decisively executed a Weapon Guard with his bare hands. Even with the bonuses granted by Dragon Claw, he was not yet strong enough to fully block a hit from King’s sword. But he couldn’t afford to take the direct hit, either.

  While blocking the sword, he executed a Strash with his open hand.

  There was a flash. But King’s instincts were perfect when it came to timing the moment a hit would land. He flew away in that instant, escaping the attack. Space opened up between the two of them once more.

  Ichiro wouldn’t be able to land a hit that easily.

  He would have to change his strategy.

  King was trying to maintain an ideal distance, so it was clear he wouldn’t charge in right away. That gave Ichiro time to open and manipulate his menu window. He went from config to the microtransactions screen and selected the icon he’d tapped enough times before to leave fingerprints on it.

  He took the Monetary Blade Arondight in his hand. Having fought with him in the dungeon once before, King Kirihito likely knew how he would use it. The onlookers didn’t, and began whispering among themselves at the sight of it. An interesting but irrelevant reaction, as far as Ichiro was concerned.

  “That kinda thing’s in bad taste, old man,” Kirihito called.

  “Nonsense!” Ichiro responded.

  For the umpteenth time, a bit of light banter transitioned directly into another wild clash. Ichiro hefted the Monetary Blade and activated Breaker, but Kirihito countered with Bash once more.

  Weapon Guard would have been a safer strategy, but his choice showed he was focused on remaining on the offense — he wedged himself in the very instant before the hit landed and cut off Breaker’s activation.

  The Monetary Blade Arondight didn’t break, thanks to its high Durability, but the damage went through Ichiro’s arm and appeared as a number above his head.

  Yet Arondight did not break, and King’s cooldown time, short as it was, gave him an opening. Ichiro twisted his body and performed Spiral Blaze.

  At this close range, Kirihito’s response did not come in time.

  The swirl of hellfire hit the moment it was fired. If one couldn’t dodge in time, there was no choice but to take the direct damage. And so, King Kirihito took it.

  A noise of awe rose up from the crowd.

  Finally, a first hit.

  This was quite a grueling battle. Ichiro had never thought the day would come when he’d have to put such analysis into a situation. He found the corners of his mouth turning upward.

  The game was a fictional environment. It had nothing at all in common with reality; it was a mere illusion conjured up by the signals beamed to the brain. A tiny world that existed only within servers and databases.

  But... so what? Every person Ichiro had met in this fictional world had been stimulating. And the most stimulating of them all was now before him, holding a sword.

  Even if everything around him was all just a string of ones and zeroes, there was a real human on the other end creating it and manipulating it, and that person was currently fighting on his level. That was one thing he couldn’t call nonsense.

  Had he ever burned for victory this way? Whatever it took for him to win here, Ichiro Tsuwabuki would seize it, without hesitation.

  “What’re you smiling about, old man?” Kirihito asked.

  “The same thing you are, I think!” Ichiro called back.

  The knowledge that he was the strongest, the coolest. He had never once lacked it. Having someone to challenge that belief with all their power felt... No, even trying to put it into words was nonsense. It cheapened the feeling.

  In the fight up until now, Ichiro had been formulating a hypothesis. Kirihito’s prowess came from his consistent reflexes, and if Ichiro could find a way to bridge that gap between them, he could crush him.

  He didn’t have the time to test that theory, though — he would just need to judge the right moment and put it into action.

  This time, he didn’t ready his weapon. He prepared to launch into a magic battle.

  “Ah, there they go...” Felicia murmured.

  “You sound disappointed,” said the leader of The Kirihitters, Kirihito (Leader), who had appeared beside her at some point.

  “Yeah... I didn’t want them to do this, because one of them has to lose...”

  “I see. You’re an IRL friend of King, aren’t you, Miss Felicia?” Kirihito (Leader) nodded knowingly as he remembered what had happened in the dungeon the other day. “It can be quite awkward to run into an IRL acquaintance in-game. In an earlier MMO I played, I once hit on a female player who turned out to be my mother...”

  “Leader, no one wants to hear that story. Really,” another Kirihito said.

  “G-Good point.”

  The level-headed Kirihito’s advice spared Felicia from listening to any more of Kirihito (Leader)’s tragic tale.

  Kirihito (Leader) wasn’t the only one who had arrived to watch the fight between Ichiro and King. A large crowd had begun to form, including the Knights who had been defeated in the prior battle, respawning sans their lost equipment.

  “Tsuwabuki’s quite something. He even landed a hit on King...”

  “But the odds are still about 60-40 in King’s favor...”

  “How’s he gonna come back from this? Let’s watch!”

  “You think he’ll get even better during this battle?”

  The educated-sounding remarks came from the Knights, led by Stroganoff, who watched with folded arms. They had fully embraced their role as spectators, and seemed to enjoy the roleplay of commentating, though they didn’t actually offer up even a bit of useful analysis.

  They simply said things like, “Ah, that’s...” and, “Yes, of course...” and, “Impressive as always,” now and then, while the others nodded along as if they understood.

  Perhaps the air of dignity exuded by these powerful characters was gift enough to the watching audience.

  Whenever they were asked about which player was at a disadvantage, the answer was always, “Tsuwabuki. Tsuwabuki.” In the pool that was going on behind them, the odds were slightly in King Kirihito’s favor, as well.

  Yes, King was fighting well. With bated breath, Felicia watched the scene unfold.

  King Kirihito dodged between Ichiro’s magic blasts to unleash a Bash attack. Ichiro didn’t draw his weapon, but executed a bare-handed Weapon Guard instantly. After the damage calculation was finished, a three-digit number popped up over his head, and his health gauge went down again.

  But Ichiro didn’t have a moment’s peace before a second and third Bash assailed him. King’s trusty sword offered a high bonus to his ATK, and the direct damage it dealt was considerable.

  Ichiro quit using Weapon Guard as a defense and began to focus on dodging the relentless strikes. While dodging, he opened his inventory and equipped his Monetary Blade once more, intending to turn the tables.

  Felicia didn’t know this, but Ichiro was planning to strike the instant after the hit from Bash completed. In other words, stealing King Kirihito’s trick.

  As Kirihito turned over his sword and executed a fourth Bash, Ichiro instantly unleashed his Breaker. The slice gouged deep into King’s side.

  That was a second hit.

  The effect of the Dragonet-exclusive skill “Blowback” sent King Kirihito tumbling along the ground.

  Felicia gasped.

  Kirihito (Leader) looked at her sidelong and sighed. “Miss Felicia, I believe there is nothing to worry about.”

  “Um... because King will win?”

  “No.”

  The other six K
irihitos nodded in agreement with their leader.

  “You’re worried that King will lose and lose all his confidence, aren’t you?” Kirihito (Leader) asked.

  “Yeah...”

  It was true. Felicia knew the weakness behind King’s facade. She knew his fight with Ichiro here was just a way for Sera to become stronger. If King lost this badly in a public place, her friend might never recover again. This would be Sera’s last battlefield.

  Why, then, did Kirihito (Leader) insist that there was nothing to worry about?

  “Well, look at them, Miss Felicia. Both King and Mr. Tsuwabuki are enjoying themselves.”

  “Tsk...” King Kirihito got up again quickly. He readied his weapon again and was beginning to approach guardedly when Ichiro spoke up.

  “Right.” Ichiro readied his fists again. “I’ve decided on what I’m going to do. What about you, King?”

  “Don’t ask me,” King said with a smile.

  Ichiro dashed along the ground again, but the move he executed with his Monetary Blade was neither Breaker nor Strash. He focused power in his open hand, and unleashed the fire-based attack spell, Sword of Surt.

  This hellfire sword, wielded by the guardian of the Kingdom of Flame, went far beyond low-level or even mid-level magic. Its flames could roast a horde of undead monsters in a single blast. Even its graphic visual far outstripped other high-level spells in terms of flashiness.

  And with that, his objective was clear.

  The impressive fire spell that Ichiro had unleashed was not intended to deal damage at all. It was just to distract him. The flashy visual diverted a lot of power from the image processor. Of course, if such a thing were enough to cripple him, he wouldn’t have the reputation he did... but it would be a way to slow his reaction time.

  Then, a beat later... the Breaker came!

  Kirihito tore through the flame graphic and countered yet again with Bash!

  The hits landed simultaneously. The numbers canceled each other out, leaving some numbness in each of their arms. In the brief time it took Ichiro to land, he opened up config and called up another Monetary Blade.

  “You’ve still got more?” Kirihito groaned.

  “I have as many as I need,” Ichiro replied smoothly.

  Then they rushed at each other for another clash.

  Blasts of air, streaks of light, roars of sound. Shattering fire, dancing lightning. And wherever the two shockwaves collided, no objects would be permitted existence. It was an extraordinary sight. It seemed unreal...

  Of course, it wasn’t real. That was a fact. But would any of those standing there, watching those two avatars locked in joyous combat, really agree? The spectacle was nothing but an illusion, a mirage created by lines of code. This was a truth that most people would readily acknowledge. But deep down in their hearts, would they really agree?

  The two greatest players on the Asgard Continent were colliding. Everyone was watching with bated breath.

  One, the Human Fighter, Kirihito.

  The other, the Dragonet Magi-Fencer, Ichiro Tsuwabuki.

  The battle had been raging for quite some time now. Each had chipped the other’s life bar down to nearly nothing, and the fatigue mounting on both sides was starting to confer negative modifiers and slightly laggy motion patterns on each. Even so, neither’s confidence had dimmed.

  King Kirihito’s strike sent Ichiro’s Monetary Blade flying, but the audience gasped as Ichiro opened up the menu screen and, with smooth motions, called forth yet another. As always, he bought as easily as he breathed; perhaps the gasps were really ones of envy.

  “Pretty bourgeois...” said Kirihito. If there was any player who could speak honestly what was on his mind, it was him.

  That was what Ichiro had thought when the boy had politely explained the reason why he used only Bash. That was why the Dragonet man had so quickly lashed out with the flashy visual of Sword of Surt as a smokescreen. The image processor of the Cocoon that Ichiro was using could easily process that effect.

  It was things like these that made rich people so disagreeable.

  “Nonsense,” Ichiro said. “It is true that I have a bit more money than you, but do you have a problem with that?”

  Kirihito raised an eyebrow in response. “Nah, not really.”

  “I thought not.”

  This had been their understanding from the start.

  Ichiro’s power came from the money he had earned through his own talents, poured into the game.

  King Kirihito’s came from his player’s inborn talent and lengthy time investment.

  Each had, in their own way, earned the game’s form of “strength,” and though the means differed, they had come to the same end. The only difference was the way that they invested their talents. Each was applying his own ability in his own way to compete to become the strongest on the Asgard Continent.

  Ichiro selected “Config” from his open menu window, switched to the microtransactions menu with a practiced motion, and bought a number of items whose price would make the average person swoon.

  The sudden influx of new items caused consumables to overflow from his inventory and crash to the ground. Potions bottles bumped into each other, but neither cracked nor broke apart. The items piled high, creating a clinking mountain of glass. The sight left even King Kirihito dumbstruck.

  “Hey, old man, ain’t you gonna use those potions? You shouldn’t waste ’em.”

  “Nonsense. I decide what’s waste and what’s not. This mountain of potions is not wasted... Not if I use them to beat you.”

  Felicia couldn’t hide her groan at watching Ichiro’s shameless wastefulness. “This is disgusting, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Kirihito (Leader) agreed, nodding.

  It was an expensive investment for a cheap provocation. As they watched, they could see the potions continue to pile up behind Ichiro, higher and higher. It was a sight to make an Alchemist — the class that spent day in and day out creating potions — go mad.

  “I believe Mr. Tsuwabuki must have considerable respect for King,” Kirihito (Leader) murmured with an expert’s air. “After all is said and done, he is his polar opposite. Still, summoning all those potions there... what on earth is he thinking?”

  But, Felicia thought, he’s right.

  Sera Kiryu had been dealt a meager hand in life, yet was fighting to the utmost with that limited selection of cards. By comparison, Ichiro Tsuwabuki had been dealt a large hand, and could fight while holding many other cards in reserve — a quality that, ironically, meant that he could never hope to imitate Sera’s way of doing things. Maybe he really did respect her friend, and this was just a sign of that.

  But it was still disgusting.

  The atmosphere among all those assembled — both the fighters and the spectators — was stretched taut. Kirihito adjusted his grip on his sword and held it at eye level, glaring at Ichiro.

  Stroganoff whispered as he gazed at the two, “Looks like they finally intend to finish it.”

  It seemed plausible. Their HP and fatigue bars were nearing their limit. As they’d continued trading blows and slinging mud at each other, the result had become less certain. A single hit might finish it on either side.

  Ichiro seemed to be thinking the same thing. He charged up magic power in one hand, and held his Monetary Blade in a reverse grip in the other.

  Were they simply going to hit each other with all the power they had?

  Given the way King Kirihito had constantly blocked the Monetary Blade Breaker, that would put Ichiro at a slight disadvantage. But the young heir’s smile did not fade.

  An audible gulp rang out among all assembled.

  A moment later, something tore through the air.

  Kirihito had been the first to charge forward. His speed was incredible. Ichiro was late out of the gate.

  Just as the crowd realized he had manipulated something in his inventory, items began dropping around him, one after another. In addition to the contents
of the microtransaction packs he’d been buying, Monetary Swords came raining down from the sky. Ichiro then released the magic he had been charging up into the ground. There was a visual of flying rubble.

  Kirihito’s movements visibly slowed.

  But it wasn’t just Kirihito’s. Nearly everything in the area had slowed down. It was likely that very few of the players assembled knew for sure what was going on. But Felicia thought back on what Amesho had said back in the dungeon...

  “VRMMOs are just like mobile games, huh? With lag and slowdown and stuff... Going through that in virtuality is no fun!”

  Slowdown.

  Yes, this was slowdown.

  Having a large number of items pop up, combined with the rendering of the flashy rubble and sand effect, required significant graphics processing that was inflating the data bus and burdening the server. It wasn’t enough to completely lock up the game, but it was more than enough to produce lag.

  And what effect would the explosion and the flying rubble and sand have on each warrior’s ability to fight?

  Ichiro could see King flying through the sand, the point of his sword slashing through the air, cutting down all in its path.

  The moment his opponent had produced all those items, Kirihito had known what he was planning. He’d been more or less expecting something like this. His opponent had seen what he could do, and it was likely that he might see his weakness and how to exploit it. But the way in which he’d done it was utterly outrageous.

  Ichiro had dumped all the items to overtax Kirihito’s image processor. There were already a ridiculous number of potions on the field, and more kept coming. Any further graphical burden or inflation of the data bus would produce unavoidable lag.

  As sacrilegious as the strategy was, King couldn’t be annoyed — a good thing, as excess emotion would just increase the data bus. He would navigate his way through the bps and FLOPS, as though threading a needle.

  Clutching the hilt of his straight blade, King took a step forward from his swiftest stance. In the same instant, Ichiro hit the ground with his magic blast.