by Nikita Thorn
Yamura’s eyes widened. “Whoa, you mean it really exists?”
“Yeah,” the bandit said. “On Thursday nights.”
“Awesome.”
“Expensive, though,” said Houshiki, handing Seiki a torch and proceeding to light another one.
With a light source in hand, Seiki ventured a bit further down the tunnel, half-listening to Houshiki’s explanation that he had only been to the public hall and not the famed private chambers. Seiki had been down to the tunnels twice before, but both those times his main concern had been simply staying alive and he never had time to try to wrap his mind around how the tunnels worked.
The elevator continued its noisy operation, and one by one, four more bandits descended. The leaders came down last, with Chika jumping onto the elevator as Gin was already on it, almost crashing the device. They yelled mild obscenities as they slammed against the tunnel wall and almost fell off the swinging pan.
“If it breaks, you’re paying for repairs,” Gin muttered as he caught his balance after landing on the ground, ignoring Chika’s giggles. “Sorry, gentlemen, my assistant apparently has no understanding of weight limits on these contraptions, even when it clearly says ‘One person only, or an unlimited number of obake’, since those damn ghosts weigh nothing.” The man shrugged. “And can someone not have our guests carry torches themselves? Geez, what happened to our manners?”
“Where are we going?” asked Yamura as the low-level bandits took back the torches and the group started moving through the tunnel.
Gin let out a long breath. “Why, my humble abode, of course.”
“In the sewage? Don’t tell me you have a clan hall down here?”
“We’re a clan of thieves. Where do you expect our clan hall to be? In the Sakura Palace next to the Shogun’s private chamber?”
Yamura snorted. “A clan hall down in this stinking place?”
Like the last time with the houshi Akari, the group encountered several locked gates, which Houshiki or one of lower-level bandits opened with swift hand movements. Seiki was not sure if they were using skeleton keys or simply Lock-picking. In order not to get completely lost, Seiki paid close attention to the route through the winding underground maze, but after five or six turns, he realized something vital.
“These tunnels aren’t a real place, are they?” Seiki asked.
“What do you mean not a real place?” said Yamura.
Seiki looked over his shoulder. “The turns are… impossible.” The ground had been perfectly level, so if the maze had been spatially realistic, they would have already ended up back where they had entered, as well as walked through at least two walls.
“Ah,” Gin started laughing, his voice echoing down the tunnel. “The labyrinth is designed to trap stray travelers. You’re entirely at our mercy. Lose your way and you’ll never see sunlight again.”
“What the hell?” said Yamura.
Seiki glanced at the bandit. “These tunnels are instanced. The maze is designed to be endless.” This would perfectly explain why he and Fubuki had been unable to find their way out the first time until they ran into another player.
“Oh, you’ve got to have it all up here,” said Gin, tapping on his temple with a finger. “It takes years to have the map of the whole sewage system memorized.”
“No. I’ve been counting steps,” said Seiki. This habit had become second nature to him whenever he went somewhere new, as it was incredibly useful in helping him imagine the kind of space he was in. By now, he was very sure that this maze was simply an illusion. “So how does it work?”
Chika let out a short amused breath. “Someone’s done being gullible,” she observed.
“Ichikeya will do that to you,” said Seiki, quoting someone else, not sure if he meant it as a joke.
“Okay, you need an Underground Compass in one of your charm slots.” Chika finally decided to enlighten him. “And once you’ve visited a place, or read a ‘shortcut map’, you automatically add them to the places you can decide to go to. If you don’t have the compass, you’re stuck, and you get connected randomly to other players’ instances. But if you’re really stuck for fifteen minutes, an NPC pops up and shows you the way out, usually this dirty creepy guy with a mustache.”
“Or…” added Gin casually. “If you collect a full-body Tattoo of the Underworld through illegal achievements, you can see all the currently available instances. So you’ll always be able to run into the people you want to find and never be lost down here even without a Compass.”
Considering the amount of random lies the man had been conjuring up, Seiki was not sure if what he just said had the slightest kernel of truth.
“So you guys are like an underground version of Ichikeya?” asked Yamura.
“You hurt my feelings again, mister ryoushi.” Gin sounded genuinely wounded. “Comparing us to Ichikeya? Ichikeya’s only half-shady, considering they have a front selling low-quality dango and all that. We, on the other hand, are a hundred percent shady. Even our clan hall is called The Hall of Shadiness.”
Seiki had to admire how the man was keeping an entirely earnest tone through all this.
Gin then stopped and gestured ahead. The narrow ceiling of the tunnel had opened up into a large circular underground chamber, lit by dying torches. On one side was a large wooden door, painted dark red and reinforced with gold metal studs. The half-broken sign over the door, of course, did not say ‘Hall of Shadiness’, but ‘The Red Dragon Cave’.
“Welcome to our Hall of Shadiness,” said Gin grandly, unfazed by his own nonsense. A silent second passed, and the man sighed. “Okay, can someone please notice the cue and open that door? Yes, I know you’re holding a torch, Houshiki. So anyone else?”
The moment two grumbling low-level bandits pushed the red door open to admit them, Seiki found himself looking down a long and refined polished wood corridor, brightly lit with warm-glowing paper floor lamps on both sides. Two pairs of female Red Dragon Cave Attendants in tight-fitting long dresses bowed in unison, chanting, “Welcome back, Gin-sama!”
At the end, the walkway opened into a full-tatami hall much larger than any clan hall he had seen up until now.
If this was the bandits’ lair, it was nothing like the dark sewage labyrinth that preceded it. The contrast was so stark that Seiki really had to look back just to make sure they had not been teleported anywhere else.
Gin smiled. “After you, gentlemen.”
You have entered the East City Bandits’ private territory. Custom combat rules apply. PVP status: enabled.
Stepping through, Seiki was glad that mud and dirt automatically faded, or he would have been ashamed to leave a trail of footprints on such well-kept wood flooring. Along the corridor, a few NPCs marked Red Dragon Cave Guards eyed them warily, but scurried out of their way as they passed through.
“This is like going to some five-star restaurant,” muttered Yamura, perhaps trying not to be impressed. “You’re missing some water features and some koi fish.”
“This place used to belong to the vicious Touzokugumi gang, but after extensive underworld battles, we managed to capture it, treasures and all.” Gin shook his head dramatically and sighed. “But, alas, not without the loss of many of our dear brothers and sisters.”
“May their outlawed souls rest in peace,” Chika played along solemnly.
Again, Seiki doubted any of it was true, but the place was indeed something to behold. Despite being underground and having no windows, the hall at the end was spacious enough not to be at all claustrophobic and could have easily accommodated at least five hundred guests.
Unlike the luxurious and graceful White Crane Hall, however, Seiki soon started to notice a slight dampness in the air, and a faint smell that was not foul but not entirely fresh. Under his feet, the tatami floor rose and fell slightly, as if the hall was built into an existing underground cavern. He was also surprised to spot the occasional weapon mark on one of th
e many dark wood pillars spaced throughout the hall, some deep and glaring but carefully painted over, giving the feeling of a place that had witnessed its share of dirty struggles.
“Nice touch,” Seiki commented. He suspected that, like public spaces scattered throughout Shinshioka, this was one of the public clan territories players could claim, and it was rather surprising that there was one built underground perhaps especially for robbers. “Do you really have, uh, special illegal quests?” he asked, wondering if this lawless aspect had been built into the game and not solely created by role-players.
Gin did not answer him but pointed to a corner. “That’s where we finally killed the gang leader,” he said grimly. “He fought like a maniac.”
Chika shuddered. “I still carry a nasty scar from his hooked hand.”
Gin glanced at his companion. “You know that’s just clichéd.”
“But I cannot show you where, since it would be indecent,” Chika continued with a grimace.
Gin chuckled. “Better.”
“But…” Chika said with a smile. “If you’d really like to see…” she trailed off and winked at Seiki.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Gin cut her off.
“I want to see,” Yamura declared.
The bandit leader laughed. “Our treasures, you mean? Of course!” He gestured toward the low decorative wooden platforms that lined both walls at regular intervals.
Raised several inches off the floor, each of these featured a single item, mostly labeled [treasure] or [antique]. Seiki counted about twenty pieces on display. From where he was, he could perceive several paintings or Calligraphy scrolls, a few vases, plus a minimalistic flower arrangement.
“Feel free to look, but don’t touch,” Gin instructed them.
“Like Yoshiwara’s rule,” said Chika, again with a wink.
As they walked further down, Seiki had time to quickly inspect a tiny purplish crafted ceramic piece labeled Metsushi Bottle and was surprised that it came with a grand-sounding Effect: potions stored in this container have 12 charges. An adjacent platform showed what appeared to be a metal-tipped arrow displayed on a slim wooden holder. It was labeled Kakunera, with an Effect: applies -45 dodge on your target. Considering the fact that Seiki did not even know such effects existed, he was not sure what his reaction should be, but he suspected that they were all of incredible value.
Yamura was openly gawking. “Where did you get all these items? And a named arrow?”
Like named weapons, named arrows could probably be retrieved by their owner, but Seiki could not help thinking it would be quite a hassle to have to go pick it up after every shot.
“Some bought, some gifted, some stolen,” said the bandit leader. “Our kind of business can be rather lucrative.”
Yamura frowned. “How? No way you make that much money robbing noobs who happen to wander into East City.”
“Of course not. We rob clan territories,” said Gin without the slightest hint of guilt. “If people don’t want to get robbed, they can pay a bit of protection money and they’re safe for a month.”
“That’s straight extortion,” cried Yamura.
“Hey, look at our clan name. We never claim to be the good guys.”
The ryoushi shook his head. “Okay, that’s bullshit. I don’t believe that my clan leaders are paying you to stay off our clan hall. And we never get invaded by anyone.”
“Oh, no, not the Honor Warriors,” said Gin, with a tiny smirk. “It’s not like they have anything worth stealing. You’d expect the largest clan to be more prosperous, but, no, you look in their clan box at the Hall of Eternal Summer and what do you find? Nothing but low-level monster organs put there by their million members.”
Yamura opened his mouth to protest, but could not come up with anything, perhaps because what the bandit had just said did have some truth to it. Gin took this chance to continue. “The big fish are actually too big for us right now. But, hopefully, not for long.”
Seiki grimaced. “So you only extort money off smaller clans?”
“Only for now, like I said. And if it makes you feel better, we actually keep PVP down among the smaller players. You gather your clan mates to go invade another territory? Well, you can be sure we’ll pay your unprotected clan hall a visit. Our existence makes people think twice before they engage in violent activities against fellow men, you see? So their five hundred gold a month doesn’t only give them protection from our robberies, but from their neighbors as well.”
Seiki choked. “Five hundred?”
“For a clan,” Gin said, with emphasis. “That’s only a couple of people doing their weekly territory quests.”
Yamura narrowed his eyes. “How many clans are paying you?”
The bandit thought for a moment. “Let’s see. All the other seven in East City, of course.” He counted his fingers. “Three out of eight in North City. Five out of eight in West City. South City is non-PVP and it’s just a bunch of Social Guild people with their RP tea shops, so naturally we can’t touch them.”
This confirmed that the Red Dragon Cave was indeed a public territory. Seiki wondered why he had never pieced it together there were exactly eight public territories in each part of Shinshioka. He had no idea if Gin was bluffing, but if it was true, the East City Bandits’ sphere of influence was indeed alarming.
“That’s 7,500 gold a month!” cried Yamura in shock.
“Economy of scale,” said Gin, perhaps intentionally misusing the word. “Hey, don’t give me that look. I assure you it’s a win-win agreement most clans elect to enter into willingly… I mean, with minimum coercion. Five hundred gold also includes safe access to the Black Market, you see. People can drop me a bird that says ‘Hey, Gin. I’m in need of a cleared run for, say, Togatsu Village. Can you get it for me?’ and I go ‘Sure. There are these ones up for sale. I take 5% off the seller and 5% off the buyer on the final price.’ And I have the invite delivered right to their door without them risking being conned by some shady merchants down in the Black Market.”
Seiki had no idea what the illegal-sounding invitation was all about, but he had a feeling Gin was actually taking an opportunity to advertise and did not want to fall into the trap of asking for an explanation. He was starting to really comprehend now why Ippei preferred freelancing, since clans seemed to come with all sorts of complications.
Yamura suddenly gasped. “Look.” The ryoushi pointed to one of the platforms. Among the valuables on display was a gigantic bow, almost in a half-circle, carved out of thick wood and gleaming pitch black.
“No way!” Yamura said. “The freakin’ unique bow, the Arc of the Eclipse?” He dashed off toward the piece and let out a loud delighted curse as he unceremoniously grabbed it from the wooden display stand, before turning toward Gin, eyes wide. “You have it? And the Society thinks it’s with some clan out in the mountains out the East Gate.”
Several of the bandits tensed as they saw their unique bow so carelessly manhandled, but Gin shook his head and simply chuckled.
“Arc of the Eaten Sun,” the bandit leader offered the official translation as he led the rest of them over to join the over-excited ryoushi by the display. “A bit useless, though.”
Seiki did not remember exactly where he had heard the story, but he had a vague impression that you could use this particular unique to play pranks on public war runs.
Nisshoku no Enko. [Unique] +17 attack. +11 speed. The Eaten Sun temporarily dampens the spirit and vigor of the populace. Effect: arrows that fly from this bow apply a sphere of darkness over their whole trajectory, stopping the replenishment of energy of those within the sphere for 10 minutes. The bow can only be drawn once every 12 hours.
As he reached Yamura’s side, it came to Seiki’s attention that his bag charms were now down to four charges. Yet, somehow, he no longer cared. This whole place was indeed eye-opening, and the experience of seeing these treasures all in one spot was arguably worth a h
undred gold—especially now that he glimpsed on the next display platform a hemp-colored charm labeled Woven Shimenawa Strands + 12 defense that allegedly showed locations of kodama spirit trees.
Gin seemed pleased that his collection was having the desired effect on his guests. “So, about that audition, mister ryoushi,” he began nonchalantly.
Yamura grunted. “Not interested,” he said, a little weakly, since he could not tear his eyes off the ryoushi-specific unique weapon whose weight he was carefully testing in his hand. “But, damn, a unique.”
“The only unique bow in the game,” said Gin.
“Can I try?” asked Yamura unabashedly.
“Go ahead.”
The ryoushi immediately dropped his equipped orange-tasseled bow and raised the unique Arc of the Eaten Sun into position. “Do you need a special arrow?”
“No,” said Gin.
Grabbing one of his own arrows, Yamura nocked and aimed at the other side of the hall, drawing the gigantic bow back as far as he could. The metal bowstring let out a low hum as the ryoushi released, almost like an ancient gong. Trailing behind the arrow across the space was first a strand of dark smoke, which appeared as a thin curved line, before it started expanding outward like unfurling black gauze to cover most of the reception room. With a faint thud, the arrow lodged itself into the wooden wall on the opposite side of the hall above some expensive-looking vase on display, leaving the sphere of darkness hanging in midair.
Seiki waited for his mind to comprehend the unnatural visual effect as he carefully reached out toward the shaded air. Under the shadow, his hand felt like it was moving through water, with a bit of added sluggishness like that of Slight Fatigue. Since he was not standing directly under the shadow, however, he did not seem to be otherwise affected.
“Weird.” Yamura lowered the bow to look at the result, unconsciously allowing Gin to take the unique bow off his hand.
“A bit underwhelming, especially for the only unique bow,” said the bandit as he put the Arc of the Eaten Sun back on the display platform. “Compare this to something like the unavoidable sure-to-kill-you eight-fold cut from the Ire of Izanagi?” Gin pouted. “It’s clear they made this game for swordies.”
