Paying to Win in a VRMMO: Volume 4

by Blitz Kiva

  “Leader!” Felicia cried.

  “No, that’s not me!” Leader’s shouted response came from directly below her.

  She looked down, questioningly, but indeed, Kirihito (Leader) was there, fighting the Shinobi Army alongside Edward.

  Which means, Felicia thought, raising her eyes... but Kirihito was there, too. In fact, there were now multiple Kirihitos on the field.

  “Sorry we’re late, Leader!” one of them cried.

  Kirihito (Leader) shouted out the name in joy. “Kirihito!”

  “I’m here, too!”

  “You’re not the only Kirihito here!”

  “Ahem!”

  A total of six Kirihitos had appeared from the rear line of the fight.

  “So this is the power of friendship!” Edward whispered.

  It was The Kirihitters. These seven Kirihitos, stranded in two different lands by the lack of Warp Feathers, were together once more. From the beach, the six Kirihitos had crossed meadows and volcanoes, traversing long distances to reunite with their comrade. The Kirihitos surrounded Sorceress. It was a dangerous sight.

  “Get out of here, witch!” Taker screamed. But Yuri pursued him, lashing out with a straight punch that hit the Anthromorph in his solar plexus.

  “Don’t call me ‘witch’!” Sorceress shouted.

  “Don’t argue with me!” Holding a hand to his chest, Taker tried to break out of the ring of Kirihitos. “We finally finished that damn goth loli outfit of yours! Don’t lose it to the death penalty! Get lost already!”

  “Taker!” Sorceress screamed.

  “We’d lost the minute we let Tsuwabuki and the others break through!” he yelled. “And these guys won’t make it in time for the vote, even if they start running now! We’ve held them up long enough!”

  Sorceress hesitated for just a moment, then gave a small nod and produced a Warp Feather. Immediately, her body became a ray of light soaring into the western sky.

  Felicia watched it all, dumbstruck. “Just who are those two?”

  “They’re mercenaries,” Matsunaga responded, having climbed Gobo once again.

  “I’m not asking what their job is,” she snapped. “They said they sympathized with Nem... that they took the side of people without talent. But they seem really serious about it...”

  “Hmm...”

  Yuri’s fists continued to fly, but Taker didn’t dodge this time. A clean hit landed a critical and dealt massive amounts of damage to him. Felicia watched Taker’s HP slip to zero, and his body shatter.

  Matsunaga’s army promptly surrendered, and the battle was over, just like that. The Kirihitos hugged and wept over their emotional reunion, while Felicia looked up at the sky.

  She hoped a model made it in time.

  She hoped Iris was fighting her hardest.

  She hoped Ichiro would get to see the battle play out.

  The next time she saw King Kirihito, she wanted to hear what he had to say about it.

  Narrow Fantasy Online contained what was called “gimmick equipment.” This referred to weapons or armors that would change appearance if certain conditions were met, such as the activation of special Arts or the engagement of certain passive Skills. It also included coats with special abilities like the Hide Coat and the Accel Coat. The Accel Coat that King Kirihito equipped, for example, had a unique speed-up ability that, when activated, caused geometric patterns to appear on its surface.

  As befitting their distinctive appearance, most gimmick equipment had special effects like that. Of these, the ones with the highest crafting difficulty were of the Insect Armor series. These couldn’t be acquired at NPC shops or as monster drops; they could only be created by a crafting class player with extremely high skill levels.

  Insect Armor used components from bug-type monsters that appeared in the depths of the Lancastio Spiritwood Sea, and it came with the gimmick “Emergence.”

  The apron dress that Yozakura’s maid-shinobi was wearing as her main piece was based on one type of Insect Armor. When she pressed the switch on the back of her hand and shouted the command word, the apron dress revealed its true form.

  Cast Off! Choriki Shorai! Cross Out!

  A bolt of lightning struck Yozakura’s body. At the same time, the polygons that made up the apron dress began to crack apart and scatter. She collected the lightning effect wreathing her body in one hand and tossed it aside, and Yozakura’s “emergent” phase was complete.

  Her skin, as white as porcelain, shone beneath the sunlight. That curvy, feminine silhouette contrasting with long, slender limbs was a truly dazzling sight. The pastel green cloth offered precious little coverage, revealing Yozakura’s body for all to see. A scarf covered the area from her mouth to her neck and then trailed into the wind, and the way it concealed her expression despite the extreme exposure of the rest of her body left her feeling extremely unbalanced.

  Naked! In the all-ages world of NaroFan there were limits to how much you could expose, yet it was clear to all assembled that Yozakura was wearing nothing but a swimsuit and a scarf! Each part of it—bikini, panties, and scarf—had just enough of an insect wing motif to them that the purpose could be identified. Indeed, it did look a bit like an insect spreading its wings.

  “Ah, the motif is the mayfly,” Iris began, though Yozakura knew that nobody watching would care. It was true that the way it forced your eyes to wander without ever settling anywhere was evocative of the transience of the mayfly.

  “Now that is amazing!” Stroganoff shouted.

  “I’m so impressed!” Parmigiano cried.

  It was extremely likely that they spoke for most of the people currently in the audience. Even if Yozakura was a fictional avatar, her perfectly balanced proportions were still being laid bare, with only a thin cloth separating them from the outside air. The air passing in and out of their lungs (even though breathing meant nothing in this game) was the same as that touching Yozakura’s skin! The feelings of the silent, frenzied spectators were united.

  They are so creepy! Yozakura thought disgustedly.

  “How vulgar.” Those words, said by Nem with a scowl, were also true.

  It was vulgar. It had artistic appeal, but it was still vulgar. Saint Tiramisu, in the judges’ seats, was likewise shocked. There was a clear difference in the reactions of men and women. Amesho alone praised Yozakura’s “courage” and smiled and clapped her hands.

  “King, what do you think?” she asked.

  “I-I-I-I d-don’t c-c-care... I-It’s pandering, and um...”

  The king did not even try to meet her eyes. He was innocence incarnate.

  Even if it wasn’t really her own, Yozakura had no illusions about what would happen if you exposed your body to a crowd.

  Still, what was with this audience reaction? Even taking into account that most of them were men, the result was greater than she had ever expected. She wasn’t getting whoops like Amesho had up on stage, but the responses were largely positive.

  The power to compete with Amesho’s popularity! The angelic campaign girl had been right to use the gimmick. Their votes in the straw poll were rapidly rising.

  “It’s a bit of a mystery, though,” Stroganoff proclaimed in his usual grandiose manner from his place in the judges’ seats. “No matter how freely you can customize your graphics, there is no ‘naked’ in this game. The underwear graphics are always there under everything else you wear, and they aren’t as revealing as this. Besides, she was originally wearing chain mail under the apron dress, wasn’t she?”

  It was a truly gamer-ish perspective, a question about how it worked within the system. He was right: it was impossible to throw off all your clothing in this game and stand completely in the buff, and the underwear that all characters wore underneath everything was not as revealing as her Mayfly Bikini.

  However, this was where Iris held her head high. “If I may spoil the trick, Yozakura’s body itself is part of my design. She’s still wearing the chain mail underneath.”
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  “Aw, it’s just a flesh-colored leotard?” Amesho complained.

  “I don’t like that way of putting it.” Iris scowled at the comment, but she didn’t deny it.

  Yes, Yozakura wasn’t naked at all. It was clothing designed to make her look naked. Iris’s original plan had been to not even include the bikini, but fearing reprisal from the devs, she had added polite covering around the chest and crotch.

  Still, that fact was cold comfort to Yozakura. If her avatar looked naked, it meant she was naked. The argument “you’re wearing clothing, so it’s fine” was nonsense when the body being exposed wasn’t Sakurako’s real one to begin with. If that fact had been enough to cheer her up, Yozakura wouldn’t be so upset to begin with.

  “I-It’s vulgar,” Nem whispered once again.

  Yozakura slumped a bit, as if it was she herself that was being labeled vulgar.

  “Iris, don’t you think it’s a bit overly pandering?” Nem asked.

  “I don’t see the difference between catering to the needs of the market and pandering,” Iris said. “Nem, the market in this place is a little different from the world you exist in, the one I’m trying to reach.” She wore a serious expression now, different from the one she had assumed when they were trash-talking each other. “All I did was pull out all the stops to beat you. You know, this ‘naked’ equipment... it was really hard to make! You know what a physics engine pawn is? I incorporated one! Though I won’t say where I did!”

  “It’s the scarf,” Yozakura said.

  Iris’s words weren’t a lie. You could say she was pandering overly much, but if this was the result of her earnest attempts to appeal to the market, she had no regrets whatsoever. What really hurt Iris’s pride as a designer was when she cut corners to compromise with herself.

  “I feel no shame over this, only pride!” Iris declared.

  “That’s right, because I’m the one bearing your shame for you, Iris!” Yozakura shouted.

  Nem couldn’t help but fall silent in the face of Iris and Yozakura’s cries. She brought her thumb to her mouth to chew on the nail. What could be going through her mind at the moment? Was she ruminating over Iris’s words, or scorning her for them? Perhaps she was tying it to “designs Ichiro likes” and performing some mental arithmetic based on that.

  The clothing Nem had designed was wonderful. It was no exaggeration to say that in Yozakura’s mind. Amesho, clad in those simple pastel colors, was a formidable enemy. She’d love to wear the clothing Nem designed in the real world. But Nem’s common sense did not apply to the world of the game.

  “Nem, it’s okay.” Amesho tugged on Nem’s sleeve as the woman seemed to fall deep into thought. “Iris worked hard, and Yozakura’s very cool, but we’ll still win.”

  There was no trace of panic in the young Anthromorph’s voice. She seemed the most relaxed of everyone on the stage, beaming with easy confidence and a smile that caused her fans to whisper “angel.” Her grace in the face of Yozakura’s overwhelming nakedness belied her supposed 15 years of age. But was she really lying about her age, or was it simply some otherworldly charisma? Well, Yozakura hoped it was the latter.

  “You have a lot of confidence, but not a lot of basis for that confidence,” Yozakura said.

  “Yozakura, are you the sort of person who needs basis to have confidence? People like that tend to fold very easily,” Amesho said with a grin. “We’re gonna win. Nem’s clothing combined with my charm makes us the best. What basis do we need besides that?”

  “We’re not going to lose, either,” Yozakura declared. “I gave it my best, bared all, and now we just have to wait for the results!”

  The two models glared at each other on the stage, listening to the noise from the crowd grow even louder. From the judges’ seats, the Knights began offering up some color commentary, as if bored.

  “This is quite the competition...”

  “I thought the choice would be obvious, but...”

  “They’re both pretty appealing, huh?”

  “But if one or the other has to win...”

  “Yeah, it’s obvious.”

  As usual, none of it had any substance at all.

  King Kirihito, despite fervently averting his eyes, cast the slightest glance at Yozakura. It was to the point that she was worried about creating a significant impediment to these young men’s mental development.

  Then, just as the tension in the hall seemed to be reaching its breaking point, Stroganoff finally took the mic, and said in a grave voice: “Well, let’s start the voting.”

  It was finally time. The judging time of destiny.

  Yozakura gulped, and Iris narrowed her eyes. Nem did the same. Amesho was the only person still smiling happily. A grand figure in a small package—she was a truly remarkable person.

  The numbers from the straw poll reset, and panel windows appeared in front of the spectators again. Yozakura gazed at the large display above the stage as if she was praying.

  The tabulations began silently, without any prelude. Iris Brand and MiZUNO: both of their totals started surging. Iris Brand’s votes were rising far faster than they had the last time.

  We might just make it, Yozakura thought, clenching her hands into tight fists.

  But of course, MiZUNO and Amesho had a steady base of support. Their numbers, rising with even greater force now, were every bit as impressive. At last, the movement on the count for each slowed and became sluggish, and it was clear to see that they were neck-and-neck.

  Yozakura’s thoughts of Reach them, reach them had by now turned into Beat them, beat them. And then, mercilessly, the tabulation stopped.

  Everyone in the hall, with various thoughts riding on it, read out the the numbers on the display.

  “MiZUNO, 2,331 votes! Iris Brand... 2,331 votes!”

  “It’s a tie?!” someone in the hall shouted above the din. A tie. Unbelievably, it was a tie.

  “What do we do in a situation like this?!” Yozakura whipped around, the physics engine pawn responding as it should.

  “There’s no one in the arena who hasn’t voted... Which means it’ll come down to a judges’ decision.”

  They were going to talk it out, then? Their team might be at a slight disadvantage here, Yozakura thought, biting her lip. Tiramisu held a lot of sway among the judges, and she had likely voted for MiZUNO, as had King Kirihito. The only one who was clearly on their side was the Knights’ playboy, “Shooting Star” Parmigiano-Reggiano, and he couldn’t necessarily be counted on.

  But Nem seemed to think this put her at a disadvantage, too. In fact, she was looking slightly ill. It was true that from her point of view, the only clear allies she had were King and Tiramisu. The “cast off” strip gimmick aside, there was a real possibility that gamers like Stroganoff might prefer the in-game functionality of the maid-shinobi costume.

  “Though if just one more person votes, that will tip the balance,” Stroganoff whispered, and with those words, it was as if he was predicting the future.

  It started with a stir among the spectators. The little ripple quickly spread, and soon, everyone in the venue was pointing towards the sky.

  In Manyfish, the seaside resort town, the sky was blue. The air was clear. Anyone could see the point of light in the azure sky above, rushing at them from a great height, at great speed. The players onstage all immediately knew who it was. The only ones that didn’t notice were probably Nem and the judges.

  “What is that?!”

  “A bird?!”

  “A plane?!”

  “No...”

  Even as they were talking, the point of light picked up speed, and dropping dazzling visual effects, it made a beeline for the stage at a sharp angle. It was like a beam of light had been released. It slid across the stage, leaving a charred visual in its wake, and then slowed to a stop.

  “Hey, it’s me,” said the young heir, Ichiro Tsuwabuki, as he folded his Dragon Wings.

  So late! It was one thing to be fashionabl
y late, but here, the deadline for voting was about to close!

  The reactions around the venue were varied, but the majority opinion seemed to be, “I thought it was too quiet around here.” The judges seemed to share a similar opinion.

  Despite being a member of Iris Brand, as neither a presenter nor a model but just a “mere player,” Ichiro had the right to vote as long as he was in that hall. As if to convey that, the panel window appeared before him.

  “Master Ichiro...” Yozakura murmured.

  “Y-You’re late...” Iris said.

  Those were the only words they could muster.

  “Ichiro...” Nem said quietly.

  “Meow-ho, Tsuwabukiii!” Amesho cried.

  Nem immediately averted her eyes, as if vexed by his timing. Why had he had to show up now? Perhaps that was what she was thinking. If her vote total had been more overwhelming, maybe she could have faced him. Even knowing that her superiority in the voting meant nothing, perhaps she wished to use that as a shield to stand tall in front of Ichiro.

  The victory was as good as decided. Who would have expected that the clinching vote would be cast by Ichiro’s hand?

  Ichiro looked at the display on the stage, then at the panel window before him, then at Yozakura, then at Amesho, lingering for a while on each. Yozakura found herself wanting to wrap herself up in her scarf.

  After seeming to understand the circumstances, more or less, he opened his mouth. “May I vote?”

  “Rules are rules. By all means, choose the winner,” Stroganoff said with a shrug.

  Ichiro scrutinized Yozakura and Amesho’s clothing one more time, then reached for the panel window. Everyone involved gulped as they watched where his finger would go. And then, he said: “Mm, I’ll go with this.”

  MiZUNO: 2,332 votes. Iris Brand: 2,331 votes.

  With that, victory was decided.

  6 - Epilogue

  Airi Kakitsubata was a 17-year-old girl attending a design trade school. She wanted to be a fashion designer when she grew up... but right now, she was a zombie.

  “I... I thought you fought very valiantly, myself,” Airi’s companion said.