Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 2

by Blitz Kiva

  Out of everything around her, that feeling was the one thing that wasn’t an illusion caused by electrical signals to her brain.

  ◆　◆　◆

  “That reminds me,” Iris said, stopping in the middle of her story. “What was it you had to do back then?”

  “Nothing of particular note,” Ichiro said. “The president of Tsunobeni asked me for some investment advice, that’s all.”

  “Is that a joke?” she demanded.

  “Nonsense. If I wanted to joke, I would say something outrageous.”

  Was he claiming that his boasting wasn’t outrageous? Iris felt exhausted, but judging by the unconcerned expressions of Kirschwasser and Felicia, who knew him in real life, apparently this was standard fare.

  Iris wasn’t very familiar with Tsunobeni, Inc. itself, but she knew that the president’s daughter, Megumi Fuyo, had founded her own fashion brand, and that she was one of the fashion designers Airi Kakitsubata respected the most. But now was not the time to bring that up.

  “But Iris, were you selling accessories the entire time before you met Itchy?” Felicia asked.

  “Yeah,” Iris responded. “I really wanted to design armor too, but Craft was the only skill I had really focused on grinding, and the only items you can make with that are accessories and such.”

  She hadn’t had much knowledge of the game at the start, so she had worked on increasing the wrong skill. Accessories were a lot less useful than weapons and armor, so no one was going to start buying them just because they had slightly original designs.

  That was the reason she had become so disheartened after retreating from the real world into the game, and still found herself unable to sell anything. That was why she had been so grateful for the young heir, who had appeared just then with appreciation for what she was doing. Even if he was a thoughtless, arrogant pig...

  “...It’s a point that’s been raising the ire of users somewhat,” Edward suddenly interrupted the conversation, and all eyes turned towards him. “There’s a service fee for converting original graphics into items. But the system isn’t set up for the requester to be able to pay that fee for the maker. RMT is prohibited in NaroFan, so the maker pays everything, and ends up on the losing side.”

  “Mr. Kirsch, what is RMT?” Felicia asked.

  “Real money trade,” Sir Kirschwasser, a walking encyclopedia of online game slang, answered immediately. “A system where you can sell in-game currency and items for real money.”

  “Well, there were quite a few players who adapted original designs onto armor and put them out in their booths, like Iris did,” Kirsch added to Edward’s statement. “At the start, anyway. But while they did sell, they were mostly bought by players who were never heard from again. Which meant the makers were spending 800 yen of real money to make something that a nobody player just walked off with. And in most cases, they probably didn’t recover its durability, and just let it break. So eventually, the designers realized that making original armor designs was a fool’s game.”

  “Ah, I think I understand,” said Iris. “I never sold anything, so I never even thought of that...”

  In that sense, maybe she had been right to make accessories, which didn’t have durability and thus rarely broke. Of course, since nobody had bought them, the point was moot...

  “So, was the finished design all that great?” Felicia asked.

  “Perhaps not from an objective point of view, but I quite liked it,” Ichiro said.

  It sounded like it was meant as a compliment, so Iris opted not to object.

  Ichiro’s fixation on the word “objectively” seemed to come from his refusal to be swayed by the viewpoints of the masses. At least, that was what Kirschwasser had told her.

  Sometimes his own opinions lined up with the objective perspective, and sometimes they didn’t. The point was that Ichiro didn’t lie when it came to things like this. If he said he liked it, then he did.

  “Hmm...” Felicia studied the clothing Ichiro was wearing.

  Iris was proud of it, but she still felt embarrassed seeing it scrutinized like this.

  At last, Felicia murmured under her breath, “Lucky...”

  Just that one word. It took a great deal of effort for Iris not to smile.

  Ah, but that was just a sign that she was too frivolous. Taking it as proof that she needed further resolve, Iris steeled her nerve once more. She had to get to the point where, when she received a compliment, she could just run a hand through her hair and say, “But of course!”

  It was foolish of her to act cocky just because the young heir liked them. In that respect, having Felicia’s approval represented a big step forward.

  As for how she had felt when the young heir had praised her...

  Iris wanted to drive it out of her mind, but the memories came back in a rush.

  ◆　◆　◆

  Airi Kakitsubata giggled madly to herself. She was 17 years old, and attending a clothing design trade school.

  She wanted to be an apparel designer when she grew up. But why was she looking so pale?

  The school that she attended brought together prospective fashion designers, so naturally, the standards of style there were generally high. Airi was no exception to this rule. The talent that had drawn her peers to declare her a fashion leader in middle school hadn’t changed at all since she’d become a second-year at her home economics specialty school. Of course, there were girls in her class more flashy than her, but in addition to her better-than-average fashion sense, she was quite attractive herself. What’s more, her self-confidence in this respect only served to make her even more so.

  But for some reason, today, she had lost some of her luster. Her skin was looking rough, there were bags under her eyes, and her hair was styled sloppily. On top of that, the smug little smile on her face led her to look a bit like a possessed demon, and she had a tendency to mouth off in ways that caused the adults around her to flinch.

  Of course, she was only 17. Her desire to be acknowledged by someone was exceptionally strong, and being at a trade school where she could shoot for her dream just made her more so. Even if it was just in a fictional world, the young heir had given her a place to shine.

  He had selected one of the accessories she had made, told her to make a design that went well with it, then logged out. They had only spoken for about 30 minutes. Not long at all. Afterwards, Airi, a.k.a. Iris, had thought hard about his personal taste.

  Despite all her big talk, everything she had done so far — from giving fashion advice to friends, to looking into brands, to daydreaming designs — had been for women’s fashion. She had surprisingly little knowledge about men’s fashion. Therefore, even though it was late at night, she called her homeroom teacher to ask a few questions.

  Her teacher had certainly been surprised, but had seemed to be able to tell from the way Airi pressed the point that she was passionate about the subject, and so the teacher had answered her questions exhaustively.

  Alfred Dunhill, Giorgio Armani, Prada... Well, Airi couldn’t deny that the teacher’s own tastes were mixed in there somewhat, but it was still a useful reference.

  One night later...

  Inside the fictional world and unaware of the color entering the sky outside her window, Airi sent her finalized design to the one male player on her friends list, then proceeded to sleep like a log for the few hours remaining before school began.

  That she could enjoy the game not through battle or dungeon exploration, but through her biggest strength in the real world... that was the thing that made her happiest.

  That morning, she found an email in her inbox.

  “I’m glad I asked you.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  She had overslept so badly that she was nearly late to school, which meant her appearance was a mess. But she was so satisfied with her work that she didn’t care. She kept looking at her inbox and grinning at those five words. Even when she was with her close f
riends, she spent most of her time gazing off into the distance.

  The time it took Airi to get from school to her house was 30 minutes by train, 20 by bus, then 10 by bike. An hour in total.

  Normally, after school was over, she’d spend some time chatting with her friends, and only get home at 6:00 PM. She would enter the empty house (her parents would be at work), take a quick shower, and prepare a light meal. By the time she logged in, it would be 7:00 PM. She got sweatier in the summer, so her showers had been on the long side lately, but the one she took today was fast enough to scare a crow.

  She had also made do with fast food on the way home, so by the time she was ready to log on, it was only 6:30. She put on the Miraive Gear X — a gesture familiar to her by now — then lay down on her bed. She watched with impatience, this time, as the standard Pony Entertainment, Inc. title logo beamed slowly into view in her consciousness.

  Hurry, hurry, take me to that world!

  As Narrow Fantasy Online finally booted up, Airi Kakitsubata transformed into the Alchemist, Iris.

  When she opened her eyes, she was in her usual compact little workshop. She wondered whether, if she went outside, she would find the Dragonet man standing there smiling at her impudently once again. But naturally, perhaps, he wasn’t there this time. She felt just a little bit disappointed.

  Iris took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She knew that taking deep breaths did not mechanically offer a relaxing effect on the body in this world, but it still helped her to regain her calm.

  The Seller Avatar was programmed to answer basic questions about her, so the young heir would know that she usually logged in around 7:30 every night. He’d surely come by then. She found the name Ichiro Tsuwabuki on her friends list, and sent him a message to let him know she’d be waiting in front of her store.

  But what should she do until he came?

  She thought about making potions like usual, but was there something else she should give priority to? Oh, yes. She had to level up her Create Armor skill.

  Iris knew, secondhand, that there were two ways to make armor: with a recipe, and without. If you wanted to make something you knew would work out the way you wanted it, you chose the former. But it was also possible to just throw together components and an existing armor with the Alchemist-only Art “Alchemical Circle” to make something more or less workable.

  Having the sub-class Blacksmith, Iris could also use Iron Forge, but there was no real difference between the two Arts, aside from whether they pulled from the intelligence or strength stat. Her Arts level for Alchemical Circle was higher, as well, so there was simply no reason not to use it instead.

  Iris checked her money on the status screen, then began marching around the booths in the back alleys. She bought up practically free, seemingly useless component items, and random bits of old armor with barely any durability left, and returned to her own residence.

  She didn’t know how much higher she would be able to get her Skill level today, but she had to get it as high as she could. Iris activated her magic circle from her inventory, and threw the Medieval Chainmail, the Fieldgorn Horn, and the Vulture Wing she had bought into it.

  She could choose the finished design for the parts, but to save time, she just chose the default one. Then, she closed her eyes and focused her mind. The use of spellcaster Arts didn’t require much in the way of special equipment or actions. A powerful imagination was the most important thing.

  Her workshop darkened as a visual took shape, one of particles of light floating up from a circle. A crest made from light took shape above the circle, as well, shining even brighter. She could feel it. In her mind, she struck a forceful pose.

  Clunk.

  Doodly-doodly-doo.

  A cheap BGM sounded out, followed by a galling “You failed to make it.” message window. What sat above the magic circle now was just some kind of unidentifiable scrap. She picked it up, and saw a popup window this time that said, “Add Failure to inventory?”

  “Ugh, that didn’t go well...” she murmured.

  But she wouldn’t give up. It was okay to fail. It was true that successes would increase her level faster, but rather than taking time to figure out combinations that were easy to succeed at, it was faster for now to just keep failing and failing. Iris put the items and armor on top of the magic circle again, and imagined...

  Clunk. Doodly-doodly-doo.

  Clunk. Doodly-doodly-doo.

  Clunk. Doodly-doodly-doo.

  Clunk. Dat-data-dat-daaa!

  Clunk. Doodly-doodly-doo.

  In the end, out of dozens and dozens of trial and error combinations, only one of them succeeded. She threw the remaining Failures in the trash and looked at the one completed armor.

  By coincidence, it seemed she had managed to succeed at a special combination, which offered a unique graphic different from the leather armor it had once been.

  Leaf Armor. Defense Bonus +2. Skill Slots +1. Durability 5/5.

  Oh, come on! How exactly is this armor?! she thought indignantly. As far as she could see, it was just a single leaf! There was no fashion beast brave enough to try this on.

  Iris didn’t realize this, but the Leaf Armor was actually considered one of the new armor-maker’s best options, and it had increased her Skill points significantly. She was very lucky to have succeeded on the first try, but thanks to that, her Create Armor Skill had increased by two levels.

  The others were all failures in the end, but it was still quite fun. The hard work of creation was a different sort of enjoyment from that of thinking up designs. She was just following the rules built into the system to find the right answer, but successes still provided some of the ecstasy of solving a difficult riddle through trial and error. This was the primary way crafting classes enjoyed themselves in the game.

  But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by that. The young heir wanted her to make something for him. That was the one thing she mustn’t lose sight of.

  Just then, she heard an electronic “ding,” and a window opened to inform her that she’d received a new message.

  It was from Tsuwabuki Ichiro. The young heir!

  Not bothering to read the message, she flew out of the workshop. It was exactly 7:00 PM.

  The Dragonet stood there with the same cool smile he’d had yesterday. “Oh, hello.”

  “Thanks for coming. Um, is this a friend of yours?” she asked.

  Standing next to the young heir was a middle-aged Knight clad in heavy full plate mail. He had slicked-back silver hair, masculine features, and the wrinkles on his face told of a long history of battle. Of course, “long history” was just a turn of phrase. The game hadn’t even been around for a full year yet.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you,” the Knight said. “I am Kirschwasser, a Knight. I have served House Tsuwabuki loyally for generations...”

  “Ah, Sir,” the young heir interrupted. “Please, none of that roleplay right now. It’s nonsense.”

  The young heir’s interruption of the introduction caused the man named Kirschwasser to slump over slightly. “I see. Well, I see to the Tsuwabuki family in real life, as well. My master wanted to form a guild, and he needed another person.”

  He “saw to him”? Was this man a servant, then? Iris wondered. She knew that the young heir had money, so maybe having a butler wouldn’t be completely surprising.

  “That’s right. As I mentioned in my message, I saw your design sheet,” Ichiro said. “I’m impressed that you could come up with that in one night.”

  “Heh heh heh!” Iris sniffed proudly as the young heir brought up that subject. He had even said, “I’m glad I asked you.” She felt like that was certainly something worth being proud of.

  “Not to be arrogant, but it was pretty good, huh?” she asked.

  “Yes, quite good. I can see the influence from Dunhill and Armani and Prada, but for something made by a girl like you overnight, it’s quite good.”

  She could hear her self-c
onfidence harden and crack. And then the next thing he said...

  “From an objective point of view, I probably could have made a better design myself.”

  At the young heir’s side, Kirschwasser was cradling his face in his hands.

  Naturally, Iris turned scarlet and blew her top. The Miraive Gear’s brainwave scanner traced Airi Kakitsubata’s emotional state, and displayed the Alchemist Airi with a manga-style overreaction.

  Praise me to the sky, you idiot! She felt so ashamed she wanted to tear the Dragonet to pieces where he stood.

  “Then... then maybe you should have designed it!” she exclaimed.

  “Nonsense. I have no interest in things considered ‘objectively good.’ I decide what I believe is good.” But the man remained buoyant. “You worked all night to put together an original design for me. That effort is important. No matter what the rest of the world might say, I believe that this is good. I’m glad I asked you. That was no lie. I personally like this design, even if no one else does.”

  Why couldn’t he just compliment her in a way that would make her happy? Kirschwasser looked mortified, as well. He likely wanted to offer suggestions on parts that the young heir could trim from his statement. It was really just pathetic.

  Iris spoke again, trembling. “Next time, I’ll create a design that’ll make not just you, but the world gasp in shock...”

  “Yes, I do hope you will.” It was a bit eerie, hearing the young heir say those words, so Iris decided to leave it rather than pursue it.

  The bizarre war of words had left her strangely tired, even though she seemed to be the only one who saw it as an argument, or felt at all drained by it.

  The young heir’s expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. Like an Evil Toad hit with “Acid Ray.”

  “So, what are we going to do?” Iris asked. “Make a guild?”