Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 2

by Blitz Kiva

  She was going to make armor. It wouldn’t be very strong armor, it wouldn’t be attuned to the young heir’s stats, and she’d failed and failed and wasted so much. But this was all that she could make. She just had to do it.

  Several hours later, at last, the full armor was complete.

  Glasgobara was unusually lively that night, the result of the quarrel between the Machina and the Dragonet several days before.

  The aggregate blog’s coverage meant that a great number of people learned about it without firsthand knowledge of what had happened. At some point, they had begun treating it like a major Glasgobara event. It had been over a month since the last Grand Quest, after all, and the players were itching for some action.

  There were also a lot of front-line achievers who relied on the Akihabara Forging Guild. The result was that main street was currently dotted with avatars dressed in the sort of high-level equipment you didn’t often see in the mid-level merchant town. They had returned there with a feeling of nostalgia.

  It had been three days since Edward had started the trouble at the Iris Brand guild house, which meant that today was the day Ichiro had said that his armor would be complete. The middle-aged knight had politely delivered a message to Glasgobara UDX Workshop that Tsuwabuki’s armor had been finished, and that had accelerated the situation even further.

  “You’re stupid. You’re so stupid...” Iris muttered.

  “When you say those words, it just sounds like ‘fine weather we’re having’ to me.”

  Needless to say, this exchange was Iris and Ichiro.

  It was taking place on the guild house’s second floor as the two of them watched the crowds forming on main street below. Spectators had surrounded the house, curious to see this new “armor” of Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s. The message boards had been full of posts in support of Edward, but in the end, most of the people here had primarily come to rubberneck. It was clear that their motivation wasn’t anger at Ichiro’s hubris, but pure schadenfreude: a desire to see him reduced to a laughingstock.

  There was no reason to take such mob mentality personally.

  Ichiro looked at himself in the vanity he’d set up in the room. He was covered from head to toe with the equipment Iris had designed. Its defensive values weren’t very high relative to Ichiro’s level, but it did offer him quite a lot of Skill slots. He could have gotten more Skill slots if that had been his priority, but to Ichiro, the design components had been what was most important.

  “We’ll be like lambs to the slaughter out there...” Iris muttered.

  “Nonsense, nonsense,” Ichiro said. “Such is the way of all works of art. And this really is very good armor. I liked it quite a lot in your design sketches, but it looks even better on me.”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. The young heir really did seem happy about it.

  “Now, Iris. Let’s go out there.”

  “Um, no... I-I think I really am too embarrassed, or... terrified...” Iris was cringing. “Couldn’t you just go out alone?”

  “I think it’s better to go out with the designer. I’d like you to explain the design, you see.”

  “Not a chance!” She didn’t know why she was so hesitant, but it brought feelings of shame and regret surging up from the depths of her heart. Somewhere in her mind were voices saying, “I thought you had confidence in your design,” and, “This is your chance to get everyone to acknowledge you,” but she wanted to smother them down.

  It was all my fault. Please don’t be so mean to me. I just have no self-confidence. I’m always on the verge of being crushed by the weight of my own pride.

  But the young heir’s encouraging smile did not falter.

  Yes, this was the proverbial “face of self-confidence,” Iris thought. He didn’t need a basis for it. He could be flipped over with one motion of a lever, and whether he ended up facing up or down, he’d always know he was still himself. Iris couldn’t be that way.

  But that was okay; she didn’t want to become insufferable.

  In this moment, though, she had no other choice.

  She let out a sigh. Her “luck” stat, which reset every time she logged in, decreased. If she had to go out, she would go. Grumbling about it wouldn’t change anything.

  She’d ride on the life raft of his insufferability. No matter what else, the young heir had acknowledged her. Even if all of humanity said no, as long as one unshakable yes remained, it was still worth sticking with.

  “If I become a laughingstock, will you take responsibility?” Iris asked.

  “Oh, certainly not,” he retorted. “If people want to laugh, let them laugh. Which has more value: the no of all of humanity, or the yes from me?”

  “I had a feeling you’d say that,” she said.

  Just then, the workshop door opened with a clack.

  “Well, is it all settled?”

  The stern Knight Kirschwasser entered with his usual impeccable timing. Iris had to wonder if he’d been spying on them. He was carrying a tray with a teapot, cups, and saucers on top of it.

  “Hello, Sir,” Ichiro commented. “How are the people outside doing?”

  “Well, they’re happy with their tea.”

  Had Kirschwasser been serving tea to everyone? She wondered where he’d found enough cups...

  “Mr. Kirsch, can I have tea, too?” Iris asked. “I’ll drink it before I go.”

  “Perhaps I’ll have a cup, as well,” Ichiro added.

  “I had a feeling you might ask.” Kirschwasser poured their cups of tea while balancing the tray on one hand. Anyone could perform the act with a high enough “Tea Ceremony” Skill, but Iris suspected Kirschwasser’s player was used to doing this sort of waiter-y stuff anyway. Even the act of handing the cup upon the saucer to her was done with perfect grace.

  The scent of mysterious herbs calmed Iris’s heart.

  She gave a small nod and brought the teacup quietly to her lips. Okay, I can do this.

  A large crowd of rubberneckers had formed in front of the UDX Workshop. The ever self-righteous Edward couldn’t understand why people were so curious about something that was none of their business.

  Bossman had said he would be on late that day because of work. It hadn’t just been that day; this had been going on for several days lately. Edward knew that Bossman ran a computer parts shop in the real world. Apparently, he’d managed to land a major account, and it had been keeping him rather busy.

  Edward used a PC in his own real-life job, and he had wanted to visit Bossman’s shop. But when he suggested it, he’d been laughed down with the words “Never mix RL and the game.” Yet, when he’d wanted to expand his memory and asked Bossman about estimates, Bossman had just said, “You’ve been working so hard lately, let me send you a good one.”

  Edward respected him deeply. Bossman had once told him with a smile that he’d never graduated from high school, yet Edward found him better a man than himself, who had worked so fervently to graduate from college. He wondered what Bossman would think if he knew what he was trying to do now, about the situation he had found himself in.

  He didn’t want to think about it. The boss would surely be mad at him — and that was the best-case scenario. He might even lose all respect for Edward.

  Ah, but he probably already knew about it. Whether in real life or in the game, Bossman was always checking the bigger message boards in his spare time. Even if he was only checking sporadically, he had surely already been informed about the current situation. Feelings of self-loathing swirled within Edward, but he didn’t know how to force himself to grow up. He could not forgive that man for what he’d done, and that was the fact of the matter.

  Edward had often been told that he was lacking in flexibility. But while he knew he needed to fix that, he wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. He didn’t know what that man had been looking for when he had asked to have armor made, but whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine how an Alchemist — who couldn’t even create low-level armor
— could be the one to make it.

  Things he couldn’t understand tended to hasten his displeasure.

  Edward stood in front of the UDX Workshop, arms folded, appraising the current circumstances. There was a Knight handing out tea to the crowd. He had come to offer Edward a cup, as well, but Edward had refused him. The Knight had looked slightly hurt by that.

  “You’re way too serious, Ed,” an Anthromorph guild member told him while sipping his own cup of tea.

  Though of the Anthromorph race, he was more like a “kemono-mimi,” a human with animal ears. The race options let them change their tail and claws, and choose from a wide range of eyeset parts. Anthromorphs also tended towards physical classes and combat-oriented stats, so it was rare to see players of that race choose crafting classes.

  “It’s only a game, so you should just take it easy,” the Anthromorph continued. “Like everyone else.”

  “Even if I take it easy, there are some things I just can’t let slide,” Edward said stiffly.

  “Yeah... I guess that’s just who you are. Ah, well.” The laid-back Anthromorph took a slurp from his teacup. “Oh, they’re coming out.”

  He was right. The door to the guild house across the way had opened. The commotion among the onlookers died down, and magical lamps began lighting up with a loud Pop! Pop! A tune began to play, sounding like light jazz, and the man of the hour, the Dragonet Magi-Fencer, appeared from within. There was even show smoke billowing out of the door.

  What on Earth? Edward’s mouth dropped open, while the Anthromorph man by his side started laughing his head off.

  “Ha ha ha! What the hell is that?”

  A similar feeling was disseminating through the crowd. The unexpected showiness of his entrance had prompted a chain of laughter that seemed self-perpetuating. The Elf Alchemist walked out behind the Dragonet man, eyes downcast and face bright red.

  Of course, Edward could not have predicted this development, either. This was... This was almost like...

  Edward shook his head and squinted at the man’s equipment. As far as he could tell, these weren’t existing game graphics. They weren’t just superficial textures pasted on to the surface of existing graphics, either. They were completely unfamiliar models.

  “It’s just ordinary clothing,” his Anthromorph guild companion said, aptly.

  Yes, that was right.

  Slacks and a jacket. And beneath the jacket, a vest and dress shirt. There was a bit of blue in the coloring, but what was really eye-catching was the luminous sheen on both pieces, like the smooth luster of an insect.

  Faint yellowish speckles ran down the shoulders to the chest, mimicking the markings on a butterfly’s wings. A blue butterfly brooch was pinned to his chest.

  Reactions from the onlookers ran the gamut, from “What the hell” and “That’s not armor” to “So that’s it” and “It’s certainly unusual.” There was also an opinion that came mostly from other crafting class players: “Wait, did he spend real money on that?” But their comments rolled smoothly off the Dragonet’s back.

  The crowd parted as he walked, and the Elf Alchemist continued to follow timidly behind. The Dragonet Magi-Fencer Ichiro made a beeline for Edward.

  Once he was before the rigid man, Ichiro asked him, with a smile, “What do you think?”

  “Wh-What do I... think?” As Edward stammered, the guild member beside him burst out laughing again. “S-Stop joking around... Is this... are you... are you trying to hold a fashion show?”

  “I don’t think I am,” Ichiro said. “I am. I’ve never walked in a Paris collection, of course. But when you add the design together with my own charm in wearing it, I believe it to be on par with any top brand.”

  What in the world was he talking about?

  Her eyes still downcast, the Elf girl opened Config in her menu window and called up a text file. “U-Um... it’s, well... I-I wanted to incorporate... th-the unflappable mood of the client, Ichiro Tsuwabuki, and... the... the image of... insects... which he really likes...”

  Even Edward felt embarrassed at hearing her haltingly spoken lines. It was like she was being put up for public humiliation. Ichiro’s expression of satisfaction as he listened just made him feel for her even more. She must have gone through a lot to get this far. Maybe that, by itself, was worth respecting.

  But just as he was on the verge of giving in, Edward recovered, and cut the girl off midway. “Enough! What do you think you’re doing? I didn’t come here to watch this farce!”

  “I think it’s pretty fun, myself,” commented his guild companion.

  “Would you shut up?!” Edward shouted, reproaching the unwelcome interruption. Then he took a step in Ichiro’s direction. “How exactly is this armor?”

  “It is armor because the system recognizes it as such,” Ichiro said. “It could be better in terms of capabilities, but it was clearly the right choice to use Radiant Morpho for both the tops and the bottoms. Look! It’s original graphics, yet it shines even in the dark!”

  “Th-That wasn’t what I meant!” Edward exploded. Ichiro’s gleeful explanation just grated on Edward’s nerves even more.

  “Nonsense.” Ichiro dismissed even this anger with calm. “I believe it should be clear now why I turned down you and Bossman and had Iris make my armor instead. Of course, if I’d told you that, perhaps you would have thought of the same thing... But I wanted someone who had a passion for original designs from the outset.”

  Ichiro’s words weren’t easy for Edward to accept. They was fundamentally opposed to the armor-making philosophy he had taken as gospel up until now. He could understand caring about design. That was why, when creating armor, he combined parts in original ways, and chose his colors carefully. It was one reason why his armor was so popular.

  But... but still... come on! You couldn’t completely ignore function in favor of an original design! If you could, then what was the point of the equipment that he and Bossman had been creating up to that point?

  “Better to be unique than great?” “Our differences are what define us?” How could you say that in an MMO, a place where numbers ruled all?

  “Hmm, I see,” the Dragonet said in the same tones as before, despite having no way to know what Edward was thinking. “You said you wanted to pound the armor Iris designed into powder, didn’t you? Would you like to try?”

  “What...”

  “I assume that your weapons and armor were all made by you,” Ichiro said. “Why not try it? You’re confident in their abilities, aren’t you? Even so, you made somewhat flexible equipment to suit your own goals. If you claim you won’t acknowledge my equipment, it’s the only recourse.”

  Edward immediately realized what he was saying.

  The guild member who had stayed quiet before out of politeness now raised his voice in concern. “Hey, Ed, you may be strong, but you’re a crafter. He’s a proper combat class, isn’t he?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Edward said. “I have the weapons and armor I made myself. I can’t lose.”

  He didn’t fully believe those words. It would be hard for a crafter to beat a combat class. Not impossible, of course...

  The truth was that Edward had defeated far more mobs than most combat class players of the same level who didn’t put the same care into their builds that he did. He often protected his own guild members from etiquette-breaking PK gangs outside the city limits. But this was on a completely different level. Anyone would admit that, when facing a combat-class player backed by a premium pack and numerous pay-to-download services, he’d be at a distinct disadvantage.

  Even so, he couldn’t take back what he’d said.

  It was true that he had absolute faith in the armor and weapons he had made. Their abilities were surely superior — he would never say that, but it showed in his manner. To back off now would be a betrayal of that self-confidence. Not only that; it would be a betrayal of Bossman, who had taught him all he knew.

  “Don’t be stupid,” is what
Bossman would probably tell him if he heard that. But Edward would still say it...

  To back off now would be a betrayal of Bossman, who had taught him all he knew.

  A message window popped up in front of Edward. “You have been challenged to an in-town duel by Ichiro Tsuwabuki. Do you accept?”

  Naturally, he touched “Yes.”

  A large magic circle appeared around them, a massive battle arena created by the system. The audience, who had been excited by the fashion show, immediately let out a cheer that far dwarfed any noise they had been making before. They cleared out of the magic circle, leaving the two combatants to glare at each other.

  “Incidentally, I do like you,” Ichiro said.

  Upon hearing Ichiro’s words, Edward realized something. His desire to avenge the insult dealt to Bossman had been the impetus that started all this. But now he could say one with confidence:

  “And I hate you!”

  The two stood on either side of the duel ring, facing each other.

  The Dragonet Magi-Fencer, Ichiro Tsuwabuki.

  The Machina Blacksmith, Edward.

  Of course, Iris and Kirschwasser stood among the spectators. Iris watched over the young heir Ichiro with an expression that couldn’t quite be called concern. It was more of a “that idiot’s really done it now” kind of face. The look on Kirschwasser’s face was likely similar.

  A combat class versus a crafter class. It was the combat class Ichiro who had initiated the duel, so the results were all on him.

  “So, who do you think will win?” Iris asked, feeling like a side character in a battle manga.

  “What is there to say?” Sir Kirschwasser asked. “Perhaps it’s a ‘the righteous will triumph’ situation.”

  “Then the young heir’s going to lose,” she said.

  The two focused their attention on Edward — or more precisely, on his equipment.

  The full plate armor he was wearing was class-restricted, which meant Edward must have had Fighter as a subclass. As a Blacksmith, he had probably focused on increasing his strength stat and various related abilities, which were probably well compatible with a physical DPS class. His fighting style was probably that of a heavy warrior, and the two swords that hung on his belt were likely his preferred weapons.