“What do you mean?”
“If the Legend Braves are trying to leapfrog their way up to the ranks of the front-line players, they’re not going to target those players for their scam. There’s no point trying to reach that rank if no one else trusts you.”
But then I gave voice to a suspicion that had just popped into my head.
Unless Orlando and his friends intend to cut Nezha loose.
After all, they might be friends in the same party, but the guild feature hadn’t been unlocked in the game yet. There was no guild emblem showing up on his player cursor to identify him, no proof that he was connected to Orlando and Beowulf. They might be forcing him to use his sleight of hand to bilk other players out of money and equipment, and if the word got out that he cheating customers, they could cut him out of the team and avoid any blowback.
“But...no...”
I dispelled that depressing thought with a sigh.
The camaraderie I had witnessed after trailing Nezha back to that bar did not signify a group that met in an online game for the first time. They seemed to have been friends since long before SAO came along.
So that theory was impossible...I didn’t want to believe it could happen.
I felt a gaze on my cheek and turned to see Asuna staring at me. If she was annoyed by my solitary muttering, she did not dig deeper for clarification.
“So I suppose that means they didn’t classify me as one of the top players, since they weren’t afraid of stealing my sword,” she said bitterly. I hastily tried to do some damage control.
“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. When I say front-line players, I mean organized parties like the guys in green and blue earlier. You can’t tell someone’s like that unless they have some visual identifier–I bet Nezha didn’t think I was a top player, either. And who’s to say he wouldn’t be right?”
“Are you kidding? Aren’t you getting ready to fight the next floor boss?” Asuna shot back. I nodded out of habit but needed to clarify a bit.
“W-well, I’d like to...but if Lind or Kibaou say they don’t want me, that’s that. In fact, I feel like there’s a high probability of that happening...”
Her eyebrows shot up at an extremely dangerous angle; fortunately, they soon returned to normal. Her voice was troubled, but fairly calm.
“I don’t know about Lind, but Kibaou has to understand how crucial your strength and knowledge are in defeating the boss.”
“Huh? Really?”
“He sent me a message after we beat the kobold lord. It said, ‘ya really saved my ass today.’”
I tried not to smile at her faithful recreation of his Kansai accent, and decided I should join in. “Yeah, but he also said, ‘I still can’t get along with ya. I’m gonna do things my own way...’”
“‘...to beat this game.’ If that’s his ultimate goal, then he won’t let his petty pride get in the way of beating a floor boss.”
“Let’s hope not,” I muttered, unable to shake the image of the chaotic, frantic scene at the battle against the Bullbous Bow.
I had only talked once to the scimitar-wielding Lind, leader of the blue squad, at the end of the kobold lord battle–and it wasn’t a conversation as much as an excoriation. But I could easily imagine what he wanted. He sought to lead his fellow companions of Diavel and raise them into the greatest force in the game. His strength of will was apparent from his fixation on scoring the LA bonus, even against mid-bosses. I had no doubt that when we reached the third floor, he’d be the first to complete the guild establishment quest and start his own guild, decked out in Diavel’s silver and blue.
The more complicated matter was Kibaou, who I’d spoken to on several occasions.
There was no doubt that the engine driving him was a hatred of all former beta testers. He’d singled me out as an enemy immediately and supported Diavel for taking charge as a non-tester. He might have even hoped to join Diavel’s party ranks after that boss battle.
But even if Diavel had survived, that wish would not have come true. Diavel was secretly a former tester himself. It was possible that Kibaou realized it when he saw Diavel’s drive to seize the boss’s LA bonus. And when the battle seemed on the verge of breaking down, it was I, with my “dirty” beta knowledge, who set things right again.
So Kibaou followed his determination not to rely on the help of testers, and started his own group, rather than seeking to join Lind and the other companions of Diavel. That team was the one wearing moss green. He must have put a lot of work into it, because they seemed to be about equal strength during the fight against the bull. But they would never see eye-to-eye.
The top two teams–let’s just call them guilds–would clash and compete, thereby raising the pace and power of all the frontier players, but that competition would also wreak havoc during the raid battles, when teamwork was paramount. It was just a question of whether the good would outweigh the bad. And the next question was how Orlando and the Legend Braves would affect the makeup of the front line...
“Oh, speaking of which,” I said to Asuna, who was watching the blacksmith work, “did Lind and Kibaou’s parties have names yet?”
“Um...I’m not sure about Lind’s. But I did hear a name for Kibaou’s group.” She grinned. “It’s kind of crazy. The Aincrad Liberation Squad.”
“W-wow...”
“In fact, they’ve got some grand plans.”
“Is that so?”
“He said they were going to set up base in the Town of Beginnings on the first floor and aggressively canvass for more members out of the thousands still down there. He’ll provide them with equipment, give them organized battle training, and hopefully increase the number of frontline players as a result.”
“...I see. So that’s what he means by his own way.” I nodded, and pondered this idea.
It was a valid choice. The more players there were advancing the front line, the quicker we’d progress through the game. But that also created a massive dilemma. An increased number of people also unavoidably increased the chance of fatalities...
“There’s something else that bothers me,” Asuna said suddenly. I blinked.
“Huh? What is it?”
“The term. Everyone has their own version: front-line players, frontier players, clearers. I get what they mean, but it’s all so arbitrary. Lind’s group were calling themselves ‘top players.’”
“Oh...yeah, it’s true. Argo likes to call them ‘front-runners’...Oh, crap!”
I hurriedly opened my window and checked the time. I was supposed to meet Argo the Rat in just two and a half minutes.
“Um, so...you’re coming too, Asuna?”
“Yes, I am. Why?” she responded coolly. I took one last look at the small blacksmith, swinging his hammer.
“Let’s make the visit with Argo as short as possible so we can watch Nezha a bit longer. Maybe we’ll figure out how his trick works.”
9
“Hmmm” said Argo.
“It’s not like that,” I replied.
If the unspoken parts of those statements were to be filled in, they would look like this:
Hmmm. Kirito the former tester and Asuna the solo player are working as a team. How much can I sell that nugget for?
It’s not like that. We’re only temporarily traveling together, and not as a team or whatever.
Of course, denying the intent or definition did not change the fact that we were indeed working together. And that activity had begun when we met at the east plaza of Urbus the previous afternoon–twenty-seven continuous hours of companionship.
I couldn’t blame her for assuming there was something deeper going on, but in my personal dictionary, a “party of two” and a “team” were very different things.
A party could come together spontaneously for the sake of a battle or two, then be disbanded and never return, but a proper team was designed to work together, each player fine-tuning their skills based on t
he presence of the other. This translated to choosing a particular equipment loadout and skillset that made up for the weaknesses of the other player so as to create attack combos that could take down difficult mobs–not so we could each attack our own targets (as Asuna and I did against the wasps).
It was only once you reached that step that I considered it to be a team, and by that definition, Asuna and I would probably never be a team. Even ignoring all of the beater baggage, Asuna put an incredible amount of craft and pride into her fencing skills, and I couldn’t see her abandoning that fine-honed technique to prioritize her teamwork with me.
I had no idea how much of that explanation–more like excuse–got through, so I sat down across from Argo with an innocent look on my face, waited for my temporary party companion to sit down, then ordered a black ale. Asuna ordered a fruit cocktail cut with soda water, and the NPC waiter left for ten seconds before returning with the drinks. With that kind of speed, it felt as though they should dispense with the employee altogether and have the glasses just appear on the table, but I supposed the game’s creator felt it was a necessary touch. NPC employees didn’t cost real money, anyway.
We lifted our drinks, as did Argo, who shot me an encouraging look. I cleared my throat and announced, “Erm...to reaching the second-floor labyrinth!”
“Cheers!”
“...Cheers.”
The enthusiasm was not quite shared by all, but at least we were on the same page. I drained half of my mug of beer–they called it ale in the game, but I didn’t understand the difference. It was the same sour, bitter carbonated drink I remember tasting at my mother’s permission in real life, but it was strangely satisfying after a long day of racing around the wilderness and dungeons. Though from what I understood, the adult players of SAO thought there was no reason for alcohol that didn’t get you drunk.
In that sense, it seemed obvious that Argo, who gulped down her entire mug of foamy yellow liquid and exhaled with satisfaction, was probably another teenager who wasn’t fixated on the alcohol part of the drink. But there was no way to be sure. In fact, it was nearly impossible to guess her age, even if there were no familiar whisker stripes painted on those cheeks.
Argo slammed her empty cup onto the table and immediately ordered another.
“Five days from the opening of the gate to reaching the labyrinth. That was quick.”
“Compared to the first floor, sure. Plus, we had lots of players over level 10 because it took so long the first time. The original level required to beat the second floor was more like 7 or 8, right?”
“Well...maybe from a numerical standpoint. But that’s just the point at which it becomes beatable.” She lifted the second mug of ale to her lips, and Asuna filled the silence.
“How many attempts did it take to defeat the second-floor boss in the beta?”
“Hmm. We got wiped out at least ten times, and that was only the attempts that I participated in...But the first time was pure recklessness. I was only level 5.”
I didn’t mention that I did it hoping to score the LA bonus.
“I think when we actually did succeed, the raid’s average level was over 7.”
“Ahh...But this time, it’ll be at least level 10.”
I checked the party HP gauge. I’d earned a level up thanks to our hunting of the minos–er, tauruses–in the labyrinth, so I was up to fourteen. Asuna claimed to be twelve. Most likely Lind and Kibaou’s teams, the main muscle of the raid party, would be about the same.
“Yeah...I bet it’ll be over 10. Statistically, that’s a high enough level...but floor-boss battles don’t follow the same rules as wimpy mobs.”
The battle against Illfang the Kobold Lord seemed like it had happened ages ago by now. Our average level was far higher than it had been during the beta test. Our leader, Diavel the knight, was level 12, just like me.
That did not stop the kobold king’s katana skills from draining all of Diavel’s HP. The sheer firepower of a boss’s attacks rendered the “safe range” of levels meaningless.
Asuna and I thought in silence as Argo emptied three quarters of her second mug and said, “Plus, this boss is more about having good equipment than a high level.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing,” I agreed with a sigh. The second-floor boss had a special sword skill called Numbing Detonation that wasn’t primarily about dealing damage. But because of that, increasing the player’s HP wasn’t an adequate defense. Careful raising of debuff prevention via equipment upgrades was crucial.
That would all be covered in the next edition of the info dealer’s strategy guide series, no doubt. All the front-line players would eagerly delve into the upgrading system, and Nezha would do a booming business here in this town.
“...Ugh...” I grunted without realizing it.
What if Nezha hadn’t moved from Urbus to Taran in order to wait out the storm...but because he foresaw that there would be high demand for his services here? He might bilk players out of their hard-earned rare gear without a care for his reputation, making the Legend Braves the top guild in the game, surpassing even Lind and Kibaou’s teams. And what would happen to Nezha the blacksmith?
“...Argo.” I brushed off the crawling sensation going up my arms and opened my window over the table. “Here’s the map data for the first and second level of the labyrinth.”
I turned it into a scroll and plopped it down before her. She picked it up and made it disappear faster than a parlor magician.
“Thanks again, Kii-boy. Like I always say, if you want the proper value of this information...”
“No...I’m not trying to make a business out of map data. I couldn’t sleep at night if I knew players were dying because they couldn’t afford maps. However, I do have a job with a condition I want you to do for me in return.”
“Ohh? Why don’t you tell Big Sister what you want?”
She casted a sidelong glance at me. I could feel some kind of waves radiating off of Asuna, but I was too afraid to look, so I focused my eyes on Argo.
“I’m sure you’re aware of them already...” I lowered my voice and looked around the bar. The entrance was at the end of a narrow alleyway, and no other players had come in. “I want info on a team called Legend Braves that took part in this morning’s fight against the Bullbous Bow. All their names and how they got together.”
“Ahh. And...your condition?”
“I don’t want anyone to know that I’m looking for information about them. Especially the people in question.”
The scariest thing about Argo the Rat is that not only did she not practice client confidentiality, she actually made it her motto that every buyer’s name was another product to sell. So normally, there was no way I could buy information on the Legend Braves in total secrecy. Argo would follow her own rules and go straight to the Braves, asking if they wanted to buy the name of the person snooping into their business. Of course, I could pay her more than what they offered in order to keep my name out of it, but it would still let them know that someone was asking about them. That was what I wanted to avoid.
My condition was that I wanted her to collect information on the Braves without making any kind of contact. It was in direct conflict with Argo’s motto and principles.
She twisted her curly hair with a finger as she mulled it over, then shrugged and said okay with surprising ease. But my relief only lasted a split second.
“Just remember this: Big Sister prioritized her feelings for Kii-boy over her rules of business.”
Again, I felt a burning sensation emanating from the right, and froze solid. Argo never let the smile leave her face.
“Now, what did you want with me, A-chan?”
Ten minutes later, Asuna and I were back at the eastern plaza of Taran.
As a village, the scale of Taran was much smaller than the main town of Urbus. However, it shared the same basic construction in being carved down out of a flat mountaintop, with only the outer w
alls left standing. Therefore, it had at least twice the vertical space of any village built on flat plains.
The circular plaza was no exception, surrounded by tall buildings in every direction. But most of them were not NPC shops like inns or item stores, and there were no player-owned homes yet, so anyone could walk in or out.
More than a few players used these empty houses as squats instead of paying for an inn. The biggest difference was that an NPC-run inn offered full system protection on its rooms.
Of course, while it was impossible to hurt anyone in one of these places, there was always that uncertainty about sleeping without a lock, and the beds were painfully hard. I’d tried them out a few times when trying to skimp on expenses, and barely got a wink of sleep–I bolted to my feet every time I heard a noise inside the room or outside in the street. It was truly unfair; my real body was probably in some safe, sanitized hospital, with all of my senses disconnected from their external organs, but I was still terrorized by awful beds and outside noise in this virtual world.
After I’d suffered enough, I finally swore off of such frugality, and had been staying in proper inns or NPC homes ever since.
But there were other uses for an empty home than just sleeping. You could have a meeting in private, divvy up loot–or spy on someone.
“This is a good angle,” Asuna said from the chair in front of the window, looking down at the plaza below, but careful not to get too close.
“It’s probably the best spot you can get. Straight behind him, the angle would be too extreme to have a good idea of what’s happening. I’m gonna set the dinner down here.”
I placed four steamed buns of uncertain filling I’d bought from a street vendor on top of the round table. Their skin was the usual milky white, and nothing seemed out of order with the scent of the rising steam. In fact, they looked good. The official item name was “Taran Steamed Bun.”
Asuna turned away from the source of the clanging outside and casted a doubtful look at the steamed buns.
“What’s...inside of those?”
“Dunno. But it’s a cow-themed floor, so I’d guess it’s probably beef? By the by, in western Japan, when they talk about streamed meat buns, they mean beef. It’s in eastern Japan that the generic term means pork.”
Sword Art Online Progressive - Volume 01 Page 10
