1

Guilds—communities of any size created by Adventurers—were a system that played a central role in player interaction within Elder Tales. They were a continuous relationship contract created when two or more unaffiliated players joined up, establishing the guild. Adventurers affiliated with the same guild received various privileges, such as common safe-deposit boxes and the use of a dedicated communication function.

Guildhalls, one such privilege, were zones that guilds could own or rent.

For example, the guildhalls in Akiba’s guild center were roughly divided into four ranks: halls with three, seven, fifteen, or thirty-one rooms. Having a guildhall of a size that corresponded to that of one’s guild was plain common sense. The halls could be used to store various items that wouldn’t fit in members’ individual bank safe-deposit boxes, as well as to house equipment used in item production.

The biggest guilds sometimes used an entire external building to do this, instead of the guild center.

There was a theory that the world of Elder Tales was the future shape of the real world and the town of Akiba (the Half-Gaia Project reproduction of Akihabara) held many ruined buildings. Many of these ruins were uninhabited, and although they cost quite a sum, it was possible for guilds and individuals to buy or rent them.

By making changes on the Settings screen, anyone who purchased one of these zones could customize it by leaving items there, permitting combat, or setting entry and exit permissions for individual users. Enormous guilds, in turn, would purchase one of these buildings and transform it into their headquarters.

In guild center terms, the guildhall of the Crescent Moon League was a B-rank hall, one with seven rooms.

While it certainly wasn’t vast, it held sufficient facilities for a guild of their size: With four rooms, one workroom, one storeroom, and a midsized conference room, it was, in Marielle’s words, “handy.”

However, the conference room would be crowded with even fifteen occupants, and it certainly wasn’t large enough to hold a banquet for a group of more than thirty, including Shiroe and his companions.

For that reason, Marielle and the other guild members had decorated all the rooms in the guildhall, with the exception of the storeroom, for the party to celebrate Serara’s return.

The rooms were decorated here and there with modest fresh flowers, and a clean cloth had been laid over a table that was normally used as a manufacturing surface for small articles. The guildhall had been swept sparkling clean from corner to corner, and some rooms had been equipped with low wisteria-cane tables and lots of cushions so that guests would be able to sit in circles and chat. A temporary row of wisteria-cane chairs had even been set up in the corridor.

These weren’t expensive items: The Crescent Moon League’s craftsmen had manufactured the very best things they could make and brought them to the guildhall.

Marielle and the others had gone to the outskirts of town to meet Shiroe’s group, and as soon as they returned to Akiba after rescuing Serara, the travelers were jubilantly invited back to the guildhall. Since they’d been in touch via telechat nearly every day, the Crescent Moon League members had known full well for several days that Shiroe and the others were returning.

Having heard the secret of “real cooking” from Nyanta—also via telechat—the Crescent Moon League Chefs had spent those few days combining lots of ingredients and making food for the party.

According to Marielle, in order to get used to the new way of cooking they’d learned—in which Chefs cooked directly, without using the item creation menu—the Crescent Moon League Chefs had made scores of dishes over and over, barely even taking time to sleep.

Even the samples had been wildly popular with the Crescent Moon League members, who had been given only depressingly monotonous food up till now, and it had become another cause for celebration alongside Serara’s return.

Of course, it wasn’t as if there were no problems with this new cooking technique.

First, with the new method, one had to take the time to actually prepare the food. In the previous method, when cooking was performed from the item creation menu, even stews and pickles were done in ten seconds, but with the new method, one had to give stews time to stew and fermented foods time to ferment.

In addition, when making dishes from the item creation menu, the required ingredients were limited to five at most. Subtle seasonings, oil, and secondary ingredients had probably been left out of the game for convenience’s sake. However, with the new method, naturally, ingredients one didn’t have on hand wouldn’t be included in the finished dish: Curry made with only meat, potatoes, onions, and spices wouldn’t have carrots in it.

They’d also discovered that their cooking skills seemed to be reviewed when they attempted to prepare dishes that were over a certain difficulty level. If a Chef’s cooking skills weren’t at the required level, no matter what ingredients were used, the attempt would fail and the dish would turn into a weird blackened object or a slimy, sticky glob. The general trend seemed to be that using special cooking techniques such as frying, roasting, and steaming required more advanced cooking skills, but they didn’t completely understand the particulars yet.

There was an even more basic issue as well.

Up until now, if players used the same ingredients and selected the same target item from the item creation menu, a food item would come out exactly the same no matter who made it. It would look the same, of course, and the flavor would be the same as well (although it would be the characteristic soggy rice crackers flavor).

However, with the new method, since the item creation menu wasn’t used, the quality of the finished dishes varied widely, even if the Chefs who made them had the same levels and skill values. Even if a player’s cooking skills were advanced, it was the actual player who was doing the cooking. Cooking skills became a number that showed the difficulty of the dishes a player was allowed to make and no longer showed what sort of dishes the player could make.

The new method did have many limitations, but that didn’t mean it was worthless. On the contrary, the discovery had tremendous value. Viewed from the perspective of common cooking sense at home on Earth, the fact that it took time, the fact that it required a variety of ingredients, and the fact that flavors changed depending on who was cooking were only natural.

More than anything, the Crescent Moon League guild members were as sick and tired of the flavorless, factory-made, energy bar–like food items as Shiroe and the others had been.

“I tell ya, we let the food items break us, and we completely lost sight of the fact that livestock feed isn’t food! This stuff we’re eating right now? This is food!”

As the young Crescent Moon League magic user said during the banquet, until they’d chanced upon genuinely delicious food, they had failed to realize how terrible the food they’d been living on actually was.

The flurried dinner preparations and decorating had ended, and the guildhall to which Shiroe and the others were invited as the guests of honor was steeped in a festive atmosphere.

Shiroe and his group were shown to the great table that had been set up in the conference room and given aperitifs, along with the reassurance that “All the food will be completely ready in another hour!” Having changed out of their traveling clothes, Shiroe and his friends were each welcomed warmly.

Although Shiroe and the others enjoyed being entertained, the Crescent Moon League members who were entertaining them also enjoyed the banquet. It was the first boisterous gathering filled with food this splendid, luxurious, and—best of all—delicious to be held since the Catastrophe.

“We’re partyin’ today! Eat, drink, and be merry!”

To the players, who’d been discouraged by their life since the Catastrophe, Marielle’s cheery proclamation was the best possible encouragement.

For a while, the conference room was filled with words of gratitude. But then, suddenly saying, “I’ll just go take a look,” Nyanta stood. Serara hastily followed him. From the sounds that came after, the heartwarming pair had gone to the temporary kitchen that was currently taking up the entire workroom, where they had joined the Chefs of the Crescent Moon League and threw themselves into the party preparations like battle-scarred veterans.

When using the new cooking method, the list of food items registered on the item creation menu was useless. Each Chef could only use the dishes and cooking methods they personally knew, and this was greatly affected by the sort of cooking experience they’d had in the real world.

To that end, Nyanta and the Crescent Moon League Chefs compared their culinary knowledge, shared the recipes they knew, and created a festive banquet with even more flair.

The Crescent Moon League members who hadn’t been able to fit into the conference room found places in the other rooms, drinking and carousing wherever they liked.

Dish after dish was brought out.

Fried chicken, omelets bursting with tomatoes, a salad of corn and lettuce, seafood paella with saffron, an unleavened bread a little like naan, and spicy mutton soup. Roast venison flavored with rock salt and herbs. Fruits of all colors piled high on a platter, and delicate biscuits topped with lots of custardy cream.

Serara walked from room to room with platters of food, waiting on the guests. In every room, players told Serara, “This is a banquet to celebrate your safe return. Sit down and enjoy it!” However, Serara only laughed and told them, “You were the ones who saved me. Let me thank you,” and continued diligently serving.

This behavior was so touching that Serara’s fan base at the Crescent Moon League grew remarkably, and in every room, she was pressed into taking part in a toast—“Have this, at least”—until she grew quite drunk.

Shiroe and his friends were also in great demand.

Naotsugu was surrounded by younger players and was discussing battles with them.

The Crescent Moon League was still a young guild. Only a few members, Marielle included, were level 90. Even Marielle and the others were only level 90 and hadn’t seen what lay beyond.

“What I’m saying is, as long as you and your companions’ levels are similar, that’s enough. It’s what’s beyond the level that’s important, not the level itself.”

“Beyond the level… You mean the mysteries?!”

Shouryuu, a Swashbuckler whose red face might have been the product of intoxication, quizzed Naotsugu, who was wolfing down a skewer of sweet and spicy chicken. Shouryuu was a young player who was in charge of organizing battles and hunts at the Crescent Moon League, and he’d gone on several excursions with Naotsugu. To him, Naotsugu probably seemed like a hero.

“Mm. I mean—panties!!”

At Naotsugu’s forceful declaration, everyone in the room was taken aback for a moment and the atmosphere seemed to curdle. Even Shouryuu’s expression said, “What is this guy talking about?”

Possibly the atmosphere struck Naotsugu as dicey, too. He cleared his throat several times, then continued, as if trying to smooth things over.

“…Uh… Kidding. That was a trendy little joke. Now that I’ve got your attention… Let’s see… So, as long as you depend on level when you fight, whenever an enemy beats you, it’ll be because your level wasn’t high enough, right? So what happens if you play like that until you hit the highest level? If you’ve maxed out your level and there’s an enemy you can’t beat, you’ll never beat it, because you can’t boost your level any higher. See? If that happens, you’re through. There’s no way you’ll ever win. Despair city.

“To keep that from happening, you need to work with your friends and get a bit tricky. If you don’t do those two things, you’ll always lose somewhere in the end. It’s too late to figure that out once your level’s as high as it’ll go. A guy who’s never worked with his friends won’t be able to turn into a team player right off the bat just because he’s come up against an enemy he can’t beat. On the other hand, you can cooperate and use your head no matter how low your level is. Do that, and you’ll go straight to the top. It’s important to keep asking yourself, ‘Is there anything else I can do?’ Our man Shiroe’s an expert at that. I mean, he’s Machiavelli-with-glasses, y’know? The guy’ll use any cheap trick to win!”

That speech seemed to make a pretty good impression.

Of course, if Shiroe had been listening, he probably would have said, “Don’t use me as the punch line.”

After that, the conversation turned into a lively discussion of what sort of tricks to use when fighting a particular enemy and what should be done in this or that situation. For better or worse, the players in this world were gamers. Even if they’d been tossed into another world, once their souls had regained some of their energy, they wanted to learn.

Meanwhile, Akatsuki was being held captive in one of the rooms.

It was a room used by the women of the Crescent Moon League.

The room was decorated with potpourri and a vanity, and although simple, it felt neat, tidy, and somehow elegant. In its center, Akatsuki was surrounded by five women.

“All right, Akatsuki. It’s about time you resigned yourself, my dear.”

“I refuse.”

Akatsuki’s expression was, as always, so serious it made her look cross, but her eyes were flicking right and left, searching for some way to escape. However, she was completely surrounded, and she couldn’t find an opening.

“Don’t be afraid. We’ll be gentle.”

“Would you get it through your head that that’s a villain’s line?”

The leader of the women, Henrietta—a Bard with bright, elegant, honey-colored curls—was bearing down on her, flexing both hands menacingly. Frightened, Akatsuki took a step back…straight into the arms of the tall woman standing behind her, who caught and hugged her.

“You’re so little and cute!”

“Don’t say ‘little.’ I’m older than you are. Probably.”

The Crescent Moon League’s guild master was Marielle.

It was quite rare for a woman to serve as the head of a guild, and it meant that the Crescent Moon League attracted rather more women than most other guilds. Not a few of these players were, like Henrietta—the Bard who managed the guild’s accounts, absolutely crazy for cute things.

Akatsuki’s slight stature and sweet, doll-like face had won her many fans in the Crescent Moon League. There were, of course, guys with secret crushes on her, but the ones who were really enthusiastic and hard to deal with were her female fan club.

“Ta-daaa! We’ve got three summer dress styles for you today.”

“Wait. What sort of fight would anyone wear those to?!”

Henrietta had begun to present the showy girls’ dresses, her cheeks flushed a bit in embarrassment—as though she had the wrong idea about something—but Akatsuki interrupted her almost immediately.

Since she was dealing with women, Akatsuki couldn’t respond with a physical attack of the sort she visited on Naotsugu. All she could do was kick and squirm. Not only that, but since the women thought even this was cute, Akatsuki was left without any way to fight or the energy to do it.

On top of that, the dresses they brought out—a violet cotton frock, an organdy dress frothy with lace and frills—were so young and feminine they made her dizzy.

“I am my liege’s ninja! I can’t wear frivolous clothes like that!”

“We have Master Shiroe’s permission. Come now. Give up.”

“I’ve been tricked! My liege! You set me up, didn’t you?!”

Going to her fate almost in tears, Akatsuki was mobbed by the crazed women.

2

The banquet reached its zenith, and the enjoyable time passed in a whirl of repeated thanks and congratulations, toasts and compliments on the feast.

They ate enormously, drank fantastically, and made merry.

It must have been about the time when the moon had set completely.

The Crescent Moon League guildhall, which still held a faint echo of the banquet’s heat, was wrapped in the unique atmosphere that follows festivals: a satisfied, slightly wistful, happy tranquillity.

The tables that had been set up here and there were littered with bottles of alcohol, plates of half-eaten food, and buckets of ice that had been used to chill drinks, like beaches after a typhoon.

The guild members lay all around the room, under tables, on sofas, or curled up hugging cushions.

Naotsugu was sprawled out on his back in the conference room, snoring, his arms and legs spread-eagled. Akatsuki, who’d been dolled up by Henrietta, the Crescent Moon League’s expert in all things feminine, had fallen asleep (possibly from exhaustion) on a large cushion that enfolded and nearly buried her.

“—Whoops.”

Shiroe caught a bottle that had been teetering on the edge of the table, then picked up a few more and tossed them into his rucksack together. The bag, a magic item that canceled out the weight of anything put into it, was also a powerful ally when cleaning up rooms.

Shiroe and Marielle were the only two awake in the conference room full of sleepers.

The table that had been pulled into the corner of the room still held a stack of several large plates and some leftovers, but everything that could have been bumped into and scattered across the room by a tipsy partygoer had been cleared away. Marielle, who’d been moving around the conference room laying wool blankets over her sleeping companions, put her hands on her hips and stretched. Then she spoke to Shiroe.

“Think this’ll do it?”

“Sure.”

Somewhere, he heard a small murmur, as though someone was talking in their sleep.

As Shiroe responded to Marielle, he smiled a little at the voice. Of course he kept his own voice low, so as not to wake anyone.

“What now? Are you gonna sleep, too, kiddo?”

“I’m not all that tired.”

“I see…”

Marielle came over to Shiroe, looking into his face as if she were seeing him for the first time in a very long while.

“…In that case, why don’t I fix us some tea? Let’s go to the guild master’s office. No sense in hangin’ out here.”

Beckoning to Shiroe, Marielle left the conference room. “Wait just a sec,” she whispered. As they went, she checked each of the rooms. In every one, sated from their feast, guild members slept on sofas, cushions, or right on the floor.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a big ol’ cleanup day.”

“I’ll help.”

“Now how could we let our guests help us clean?”

When Marielle looked at the guild members, her expression was warm and gentle. Just being able to see her like this was enough to make Shiroe glad they’d accepted the mission.

Tidying up only the bottles and platters that looked hazardous, the two of them made for the guild master’s office. It was the ultrafeminine room where, before their journey, they’d heard Marielle’s story and resolved to make the trip to Susukino.

Only the large work desk seemed suited to the term office. The rest of the space was coordinated in pastel colors to the point where it might as well have been Marielle’s private room.

“What’ll you have?”

“Anything’s fine.”

“All righty. Let’s see what we’ve got. …Hm…”

Marielle brought some black-leaf tea from the beverages that were left in the kitchen. Made with black tea leaves, the tea could be drunk hot or cold, and varieties blended with fruit had a particularly clean, brisk flavor.

The two of them sat on the sofa, finally relaxing for a bit.

Shiroe was always the last one to fall asleep after a commotion like this one. It wasn’t that he disliked parties; on the contrary, he loved them. It was just that the more fun he had, the more he felt that he wanted to watch over it to the very end, and it kept him from falling asleep. It was a very old habit of his, and Nyanta and the others had always teased him about it.

Marielle seemed to share that feeling; the way she’d looked lovingly at each of her companions as she’d covered them with blankets had made an impression on him.

From the guildhall, they could feel the sleepers’ presence and, quite faintly, hear the sounds of people turning in their sleep. It was far more reassuring than complete silence.

“You really saved us this time, and I mean that. Thanks so much.”

“Enough. We didn’t do anything that special.”

Still slightly giddy from the festive heat of the banquet, Shiroe’s mood was light as he answered. He hadn’t expected to be thanked this heartily. Well, to be completely honest, he’d assumed they’d be thanked, but he’d never dreamed that everyone would thank them this way.

He remembered the huge smiles of the good-natured Crescent Moon League guild members.

If anything, Shiroe tended to be shy with strangers. He thought he was probably hard to approach, unlike Naotsugu and Nyanta, but the Crescent Moon League members had even come to him, offering him food and expressing their gratitude.

I never thought we’d make them so happy…

In actuality, he’d been prepared to be told that they had been out of line: Outsiders poking their noses where they didn’t belong; who did they think they were?

He hadn’t been able to forgive the world for becoming what it had become, and he’d gone out of his way to undertake the long trip up to Susukino in an attempt to burn through that irritation… In other words, he’d done nothing more than push his own incredibly personal standards onto everyone else.

Shiroe was fully aware of how arrogant that had been.

I don’t regret it, but… I do know it’s nothing they should be thanking me for.

For that reason, being thanked so freely left him at a loss as to how to respond. He felt rather humbled and ashamed.

“If that wasn’t anythin’ special, I don’t know what is. We’ll have to think of a way to thank you.”

“No, really, don’t worry about it… How were things here while we were away?”

“Here, huh…?”

At Shiroe’s question, Marielle’s expression clouded slightly.

Shiroe didn’t ask her why. He only waited, swirling the tea in his glass.

“Akiba’s…settled down a bit, I think. It’s more settled than it was anyhow.”

“‘Settled down’…?”

“Yep. PKs are way down. And public order… It doesn’t seem bad to me. I guess it depends on what you’re comparin’ it to, but still. At the very least, it feels better than when it was real awful. All of that’s better.”

Marielle continued, searching for the words as she spoke.

“…Listen, though. This atmosphere’s no good. I can’t really say what bugs me about it, but… What I mean is… Hmm. I can’t tell you, ‘This or that is bad, and that’s what’s wrong,’ but even so, somethin’s broken somewhere. I’d like to do somethin’ about it, but there’s nothin’ to be done. I’m pretty sure it’s ’cos the rankings have been hashed out.”

Rankings.

There was something disturbing and sinister about the sound of that word.

“We’re a pretty small guild, y’know? Just under thirty of us. Plus, four of us are level ninety, and about half of us are level fifty or under. I’m not complainin’, mind, but as a practical problem, it’s a fact. It’s somethin’ objective, and we can’t change it. For instance, right now, D.D.D. is Akiba’s biggest combat guild. From what I hear, they’ve got over 1,500 members. I bet they’ve got more level nineties than we can shake a stick at. That’s another objective fact we can’t change.”

Marielle set her glass on the table and continued, kneading her fingertips together.

“Now I’m not sayin’ that’s bad. The big guys have their own big-guy problems; believe me, I know. But how should I put it…? Things like that are buildin’ up, and it’s gettin’ to the point where we can’t fix it… As you’d expect, the big guilds with all the equipment are doin’ well; that’s only natural. In some areas, places like that are settin’ the mood and the rules for the town. Like preferential use of the market, say.”

“They’re doing things like that?”

“These aren’t clear-cut ‘rules,’ mind. It’s just, with numbers like that… The big guilds are the ones who are actin’ all important. One way or another, see, they’ve got the power. If players that belong to those guilds act important to match, they get away with it, and they think that’s how it should be.”

Ridiculous.

Of course the big guilds had more members, and naturally they’d be more efficient at some things. For instance, the main source of income for fighting guilds was loot won from monster battles. In battles fought specifically to win loot, known as “hunting,” larger numbers were linked to efficiency. When it came to making efficient use of the materials won as loot, having lots of production classes and companions in-house let the guild develop many situations to its advantage. Still, that didn’t make each individual player who was affiliated with the guild any stronger, and it certainly didn’t make them more important.

She would probably have laughed it off.

She would have looked at the players who could do nothing but live huddled together in narrow-minded groups and laughed loud and long as she declared:

“You people aren’t even the teensiest bit cool.”

“Remember I said PKs were down? It’s the same reason. This guild here is tougher than that guild there. …Or weaker. With that hashed out already, there’s no point in fightin’ anymore just to make it clearer. Nobody who knows they’re gonna lose will go near somebody that could bite ’em. They just find another huntin’ ground. But most of those other huntin’ grounds are either far away or the huntin’s no good. Sure, PKs are down, but all it means is that the guilds have managed to segregate the zones they go to. The tough guilds have claimed the best huntin’ grounds as their turf. We can’t fight in town, so nobody’s lockin’ horns that way. Still, even so, these invisible territories are takin’ shape. That sounds like ‘rankings’ to me.”

He hadn’t been drunk to begin with, but Shiroe felt the center of his head growing cool and clear. This was even worse than the deterioration of public order he’d been imagining. True, it wasn’t the worst it could have been. PKs were down, apparently, and there were probably fewer quarrels as well.

But still, somehow… I don’t like this. It makes me sick…

It wasn’t the least bit cool, Shiroe thought.

A sense of revulsion churned inside him.

“I can’t tell you, ‘This or that is bad and that’s what’s wrong,’” Marielle had said. For example, occupying hunting grounds might not be an admirable move, but was it wrong? Not necessarily. At the very least, there were no laws in this world, which meant no one could declare it was illegal.

Patrolling a set area in order to gather items efficiently was a common method, and the more experience a player gained in an area, the more efficient they’d get. In other words, becoming an expert on an area wasn’t a bad strategy at all.

Not only that, but the big guilds were expending significant resources to implement that strategy: They were using their members to police their areas.

Shiroe had no intention of criticizing that strategy without hearing their side of the story.

If those without power were allowed to criticize that sort of thing, the result would be something like “reverse discrimination” by the weak, and so he understood just what Marielle meant when she said that no one in particular was wrong. No doubt this was just “the way things went.”

However, even then, he couldn’t quite reconcile himself to the idea.

In this lawless other world, was it all right for those with power to dominate those without? If asked whether it was okay for the answer to that question to be this uncool, the answer was no. However, Shiroe knew that if the argument were taken to the extreme, his only grounds for saying no were his own preferences.

“Didn’t the smaller guilds try to do anything about it?”

“Well… Yes. Over the past two weeks, for example, there was talk of the smaller guilds formin’ a liaison committee, holdin’ down some huntin’ grounds and handlin’ it that way. …It didn’t work out, though. Even with smaller guilds, there are slight differences in numbers, y’know? There were little differences of opinion that got people upset, and some couldn’t keep from bein’ selfish, and they fought, and things fell apart. Then several small guilds thought, If that’s the way it’s gonna be…, and they merged with the big guilds or with each other.”

They did, hm? Shiroe thought.

There was probably no help for that, either. It was easy to say “hold on to hunting grounds,” but whether a hunting ground was “good” or not changed depending on its level. No doubt there had been a nearly infinite number of ambitions regarding the hunting grounds each guild wanted to frequent, depending on the guild’s personality, its number of members, and their levels.

Working together and occupying a hunting ground would take a large number of people who were able to curb their egos and cooperate. The larger guilds might be able to exercise control, but in a gathering of smaller, weaker guilds, debates were bound to break out, and the group would fragment.

Come to think of it, the influence of the frozen transport gates and the Fairy Ring trouble showed through in this issue as well. There were tens of thousands of zones on the Japanese server. With only about a thousand guilds, it was hard to imagine having a shortage of hunting grounds under ordinary circumstances.

However, now that the intercity transport gates were out of order and the Fairy Ring timetables were a complete mystery, the Adventurers’ movements were drastically restricted. Players with griffins, like Shiroe’s group, were extremely rare. Now that players had to rely on horses or their own two feet, the number of hunting grounds that were within a day’s journey of the town was more limited than it had been in the game.

There were about fifty zones that fit that description near Akiba. As far as hunting grounds were concerned, there might be three hundred or so. If those were ranked by quality of experience points, proximity to the town, and apparent safety, there would naturally be a scramble for the popular spots.

Since the Catastrophe, all zones had been made available for purchase. The zone prices were determined by factors beyond the Adventurers’ comprehension, but at the very least, one of those conditions seemed to be area. This meant that zones with enough area to be hunting grounds would be too expensive to purchase, but there was no need to buy them: Any guild with enough members could use their human resources to “occupy” them.

“…Plus. The Knights of the Black Sword are aimin’ for ninety-one.”

“Huh?”

Ninety-one. She probably meant the level. Since Homesteading the Noosphere had been introduced, the level maximum had probably been released, so that in itself was no surprise. If the level maximum had been let go, it should be possible to grow past level 90, the previous maximum level.

However, in order to do that, wouldn’t it be necessary to hunt monsters that were at or above level 85? Shiroe had his doubts about whether anyone could skate on ice that thin in the real battles of this other world.

“The big guilds are tough as things stand, but you know they can’t expect any new players to join up. So, it sounds like they think the issue of level height is gonna have a big effect on their power. That’s behind the player acquisition wars, too. And y’know the Knights of the Black Sword have always aimed for the top…”

Shiroe nodded, acknowledging what Marielle had pointed out.

Even in Akiba, the Knights of the Black Sword were a proud fighting guild, elitist to the point of seeming somewhat exclusionist. Not one of their members was under level 85. They didn’t even accept members under level 85. A pureblood combat organization: That was the Knights of the Black Sword.

“The Knights of the Black Sword still have that level restriction on joinin’ up. Of course they’re still a prestigious major guild, too. The Crescent Moon League can’t compare. But D.D.D. and its 1,500 members are keepin’ the Knights on the ropes. After the Catastrophe, D.D.D. snapped up several smaller guilds. Well, with that level restriction on entry, the Knights of the Black Sword can’t assimilate any smaller guilds. That’s why they’re workin’ to get past level ninety, tryin’ to beat out quantity with quality.”

“But how—”

That was the heart of Shiroe’s question. He understood the motive. He also understood the feeling and the strategy… But was there any way to achieve it?

“By usin’ EXP Pots.”

“—EXP Pots…”

EXP Pots were a famous support item in Elder Tales. They were potions that, when drunk, slightly raised a player’s attack power and self-recovery abilities and nearly doubled the amount of experience points won in battle.

Ordinarily, players couldn’t get any experience points from monsters more than five levels weaker than they were. A secondary effect of the EXP Pots was that, although it wasn’t much, players were able to gain a few experience points from monsters as much as seven levels below them.

The effects of the potions only lasted two hours, but as a result, during the time they were effective, it was far easier to earn experience points.

Although these support items were powerful, it wasn’t necessary to go through a large-scale battle or jump any other hurdles to get them. In fact, almost all players had used them at one point or another.

As a popular, long-running game, Elder Tales had continued to raise its level maximum over the course of its run. That made it difficult for newbie players who’d just begun the game to catch up to those who’d been playing longer. As a result, the administrators had given various assists to new players, and the potions were one of them.

In specific terms, players under level 30 automatically received one potion per day, free of charge. They were a present from the administrators, given in the spirit of helping players reach midrange levels quickly and enjoy the game.

“But those potions are—”

“…There’s this guild called Hamelin. They advertised themselves as bein’ out to rescue newbies, and after the Catastrophe, they attracted a lot of ’em. Everythin’ was a mess then, and it’s true that most weren’t in a place where they could’ve helped newbs. We couldn’t do anythin’, either. But Hamelin… They’re sellin’ off the EXP Pots they collect. Hamelin’s gettin’ rich, and the big guilds are workin’ to boost their levels with those potions. I dunno who’s in the wrong here; maybe nobody is. But that’s the way things are goin’, and there’s nobody who can stop it…”

3

The heat of the banquet was gone completely.

Even though it was early summer, the night wind was cool, and it blew strongly enough to set the tail of his tunic flapping.

Cloud shadows skimmed across the ground. The moon was so bright it cast shadows, even now in the dead of night. It was past midnight, and Shiroe walked through the streets of Akiba as if he was chasing the contrast between moonlight and shadow.

He didn’t have a particular destination in mind.

It was as if he were running from this mysterious, black emotion. Running from it or possibly trying to see it clearly. Even Shiroe didn’t quite understand what he was feeling.

He felt as if there was a huge, heavy mass in his chest. It was like the ocean at night, but nowhere near as refreshing; the mass was unidentifiable, so black and thick it could have been made of coal tar, and he failed to grasp it completely. He felt as if he had a huge amount of energy, but it wasn’t focused on anything. It was simply there.

…Although it’s only there.

Shiroe knew it, too.

There was nothing for him to unleash this emotion on.

There probably was a villain somewhere, of course. The Hamelin guild certainly wasn’t good. If he got the opportunity, Shiroe wouldn’t mind fighting them the way he’d fought the Briganteers.

Still, even if Hamelin was bad, they were just a small-time villain. Hamelin wasn’t behind Akiba’s current situation. All sorts of things that “couldn’t be helped” had piled up, one on another, to make the atmosphere in Akiba what it was. That atmosphere was what he couldn’t stand.

Besides, Shiroe was well aware that, if he turned that feeling on Hamelin exclusively, he’d be punishing them for something that wasn’t their doing.

Shiroe walked, holding his breath.

There was nothing cool about taking things out on other people.

He didn’t want to lash out at someone just to make himself feel better.

That left Shiroe unable to vent the pitch-black emotion inside him. To Shiroe, taking it out on Hamelin would make him even worse than they were.

But in that case…

In that case, he had nowhere to vent the feeling.

So Hamelin was a small-time villain. Fine.

Who was the main villain?

Who was in the wrong?

Was it the big fighting guilds, who must have had an inkling of how their EXP Pots were supplied, but were turning a blind eye to it in order to increase their power?

Was it the newbies, who were fully aware they were being exploited, but had relaxed into the fact that they were weak and let the idea of being “protected” hold them captive?

Was it the small and midsized guilds, who knew there was inequality between the guilds and had come together in order to do away with it, but had gotten distracted by their own interests, failed to cooperate, and could do nothing but squabble with one another?

Was it all the players who knew that the atmosphere in the town was deteriorating but just stood by and watched, irresponsibly acting as if it had nothing to do with them?

Yes. That was wrong.

They were all wrong.

Still, those “wrongs” were small ones; for the most part, the people in question were nothing more than foolish or self-centered. None of them was the mastermind that lurked on the far side of all that was wrong. There was no fairy-tale “evil” whose defeat would solve everything. This was nothing so simple or convenient.

Everything was warping, little by little, and it was frustrating. That was all.

Shiroe was there, too, in the midst of that distortion. Things were getting more and more uncomfortable in Akiba; a warped order was becoming established, and here he was, with a higher level and more equipment than the majority of Akiba’s citizens, and what was he doing? Nothing. He had a good grasp of the situation, and still he let the moments slip by, letting things pass without comment.

There was no difference between him and the “unconcerned citizens of Akiba” that he found so irritating. Add in the fact that friends of his were personally involved in the problem, and he might be even worse.

Although Marielle had said it had failed, they’d managed to start discussing an alliance of guilds. Shiroe himself hadn’t made it even that far.

The fact that he—he—was thinking that the smaller guilds who could do nothing but squabble with one another were in the wrong was so pathetic and laughable that he bit his lip almost hard enough to bite through.

I’m uncool. …I may be the least cool one here.

At some point, he’d reached the crest of a bridge. An old, mossy stone bridge built in a European style spanned the Kanda River. When he leaned on the railing, the scent of water and the sound of ripples spread under the moonlight.

…Then what should he do?

Without consciously putting that feeling to work, Shiroe thought. He had the sort of personality that felt compelled to think when it encountered a problem, and it was also a “job” he’d grown used to, thanks to the Debauchery Tea Party.

Story after story was set up and destroyed.

Shiroe’s right hand held the red card soldiers, and the black card soldiers were in his left. They crossed paths, sounding the notes of logic with spears of denial and swords of assent. Meaningless facts were weeded out, possibilities examined, and deductions flowed away down the dark river.

The answer wouldn’t come. How could it? He’d known from the start that there were no easy answers. Shiroe had been saddled with a handicap from the very beginning, one that was much too large. Not only that, it was a handicap he’d picked up by choice.

Even thinking of it as a handicap is presumptuous. It’s just a bill: what I get for having done nothing but run away. I’m a solo player because that’s what I wanted to be.

What would she have said? Shiroe lifted his gaze from the surface of the river to the moon. The pure white moon illuminated the predawn streets of Akiba with a luster like that of a highly polished fossil.

She was a dynamic person… And she wasn’t like me; she wasn’t a coward, and she didn’t drag regrets behind her.

He could picture her laughing with her big mouth wide open as she resolved everything with the force of a typhoon. He could also picture her tossing Akiba aside because it felt like too much work.

The most realistic was probably the scenario in which, after she’d rampaged around saying and doing everything she wanted, she dropped the situation into his lap as homework: “You figure out a way to clean up the mess, Shiro! That’s fine, right?! Got a problem with it? Of course you don’t! You’re one of the best, Shiro, so get things squared away ASAP!”

He called up the telechat function.

Those two names on his friend list.

Touya. Minori.

The twin siblings who were probably in Hamelin.

Right. He’d known as soon as he heard the story. Shiroe and the twins had gotten separated, and right now, they were probably caught up in this problem. …All because Shiroe had left them on their own. Because, in the instant the Catastrophe occurred, he had prioritized meeting up with his old friend Naotsugu.

He wanted to help them. He wanted to help, no matter what it took. However, this wasn’t like when they’d gone to rescue Serara.

For one thing, in the Crescent Moon League’s case, Marielle had been there. When Shiroe had rescued Serara, he’d done so as Marielle’s proxy. In other words, he’d been working for a client.

Of course he’d wanted to save the girl, but he knew that somewhere he’d had an excuse available: “I’ve accepted a request. All I’m doing is carrying it out.”

For another, although Shiroe wanted to rescue Touya and Minori now, even more than that, he wanted to do something about everything. He’d felt the same way during their escape from Susukino. Back then, although there hadn’t been many players in the same situation as Serara, there must have been a few others. On some level, Shiroe had felt bad about abandoning the rest of those players and rescuing only her.

However, there, too, he’d used the fact that his current mission was to rescue Serara as an excuse, closed his eyes to the rest, and returned to Akiba.

If he used a similar excuse again this time, Shiroe was sure he’d lose all ability to fight.

Rescue the twins, then, and abolish the tyranny of the big guilds, improve the atmosphere in Akiba and establish a new order… Could Shiroe do something like that? He was a solo player, not affiliated with even a tiny guild, let alone one of the big guilds… And so the answer was no, he couldn’t.

Not even affiliated with a guild, hm…?

The thought gave Shiroe a dull, penetrating pain.

Now that he thought about it, Shiroe had always considered guilds to be something people belonged to. He’d felt they were nothing to do with him. Guilds had always been “there,” and whether that was good or bad, whether they suited him or not—he’d viewed them as an outsider.

That attitude had been irresponsible.

That was what he thought now.

Wasn’t that just like the riffraff who talked about the current atmosphere in Akiba as though it was nothing to do with them, even though they lived there?

Up until now, Shiroe had never participated in a guild, and he’d never had responsibilities toward one. On top of that, he’d forced his own preferences and convenience on others… The arrogance of that attitude staggered him.

“Guilds. …Guilds, huh…?”

“Mew still dislike guilds, Shiroechi?”

Nyanta appeared from the shadow of a building; a few fragments of asphalt scattered, clicking, as he moved. He narrowed his quiet eyes in a smile, asking a question of Shiroe’s monologue.

“!”

Shiroe was startled, but he shrugged his shoulders and moved over slightly, making room.

“No, I don’t. …Or at least, I don’t think I do.”

Shiroe thought his hatred of guilds had probably stemmed from several unfortunate encounters. His relationship with the Crescent Moon League, both before and after the Catastrophe, had softened his obstinate prejudice.

At this point, he could even understand that he’d been arrogant.

However, on the other hand, he also remembered the PKs he’d met near Akiba and the gang of would-be bandits he’d encountered in Susukino. It was true that the guild system was easily corrupted. In the big guilds, where turf wars were the normal way of things, it was easy to imagine that morals would deteriorate.

“…Yes, those aspects may exist.”

Nyanta responded to Shiroe’s thoughts.

“On the other hand, though, incorruptible things aren’t to be trusted. Birth, illness, old age, and death are the underlying principles of the mewniverse. Anything born will rot. It will suffer from disease and pain and will grow old and weak. Someday it will die. That’s a painful thing, but if mew deny it, mew’re denying birth as well. I know mew know this, Shiroechi. Perhaps it was particularly comfortable ‘there,’ but that’s simply because we all tried to make it comfortable, and we did. Any treasure gained without cost or trouble is no treasure at all in the end.”

…Yes. He was right.

Everyone had put in effort as a matter of course, and the work had seemed so natural that they hadn’t even realized it was work. Now, though, he knew how precious that had been and how much unseen effort the cat-eared friend beside him must have invested.

It was the same sort of work Marielle did.

How much support did the Crescent Moon League gain from her smile? Did it not give the guild a strength, one that not even a wealth of rare items nor gold coins could hope to match?

That meant that if the town of Akiba had been comfortable until now, it had been because somebody somewhere was silently putting in invisible effort.

“Captain… What should I do?”

At Shiroe’s words, Nyanta looked up at the same moon.

In the wind, his black ears flicked, then went still.

“Mew should do the most incredible thing possible.”

“Incredible…?”

Shiroe looked at Nyanta. His expression was as calm as ever, but in the moonlight, he looked even more mature than usual.

“Mew hold back too much, Shiroechi.”

He’d heard those words before, at some point, from Naotsugu.

Shiroe chased their meaning, the meaning he had let slip past him back then.

He thought seriously about what the words would have meant if they hadn’t just been said lightly, in the moment.

What they meant.

What he’d done for Naotsugu.

What he’d done for Akatsuki.

In other words, those two had already known…

“I’ve been keeping them waiting?”

“That’s right.”

“And they did wait?”

“That’s right.”

“They stayed here with me, without going elsewhere…”

“That’s right.”

They were waiting for me to invite them to my guild?

Shiroe looked down. The lump in his chest, that black, ocean-like mass, rumbled and roared. The feeling he hadn’t been able to vent roiled under the lid he’d clamped down onto it, coming near to boiling over.

The sounds of the summer insects. The quiet noise of the water. The pale moonlight. Shiroe stood stock-still in the midst of it, clenching his fists, desperately suppressing everything.

They’d had expectations for him.

They’d bet on him.

They’d waited for him.

He had pondered and analyzed and worried, or he thought he had. Why hadn’t he seen it? Had he really been that slow-witted? Even though his distrust of himself and his sense of inferiority were as high as a levee, the frozen restraints were being washed away by happiness, and familiarity, and trust.

“Will I be in time?”

“Of course.”

“Captain Nyanta. You join, too. …It would make me really happy if you came with me. I need you there.”

As he delivered the invitation, Shiroe watched Nyanta steadily. Nyanta laughed a bit self-consciously and said, “I’d like a good veranda.”

“Sure,” Shiroe agreed. “We’ll build you one. We’ll get you a fine veranda.”

He wanted the most incredible thing. If he was allowed to want it. It came with a responsibility so huge that Shiroe couldn’t support it by himself, but he did have a plan.

If he had friends who would shoulder it with him, then…

4

The dark room was damp.

The uncarpeted floor was made of ancient concrete, and it absorbed heat like a sponge. This meant that even in early summer, at times like this, just before dawn, it was as cold as graveyard earth.

Wrapped up tightly in her drab, dirty mantle, Minori turned over. She’d done it so many times already she’d lost track of how often.

The night was long, and it felt endless.

Maybe it was because her “bed” was much too hard and cold, or maybe it was her anxiety for the future. Her weary body wanted rest, but her sleep was shallow, and she woke easily at the smallest thing.

Grinding pain was what she felt when her consciousness drifted up from the dark of night. All she could remember were indistinct dreams that grew vague and melted into the darkness, leaving only unease and regret.

She spent most of the day cooped up in a tiny room, being forced to work as a Tailor, and her hands hurt as if the muscles were dead wood. Today, no matter how often she stroked them with her chilled fingers, the pain refused to recede.

Her little brother Touya slept next to her, hugging his knees.

Nearly twenty of her companions were asleep in this room.

The guild Hamelin.

It was a midsized guild that had advertised mutual aid for beginners.

It was the guild Minori and Touya had joined.

After the Catastrophe, the town had been engulfed in confusion and a feeling of claustrophobia. The sudden disaster had left everyone dazed; no one had known what to do. Minori thought the reason the town hadn’t erupted into large-scale riots in those first few days was that most of the players hadn’t known how to take what had just happened and had been hoping it might be some sort of elaborate joke.

She and Touya had been the exact same way.

For the first few hours, they hadn’t known what had happened.

For a few days after that, although they knew what had happened, they hadn’t known why.

The “why” was still unclear. What they finally did understand now was that those first few days had been terribly valuable and that, while they’d been distracted by the question Why did something like this happen?—a question that had no answer—they’d lost that time forever.

Her memories of the days that followed were hazy.

She remembered being hungry. They hadn’t really known how to eat. She’d bought several food items at the market and shared them with her brother Touya. When they tried to leave the town, they were attacked, and before they knew what was happening, they’d been stripped of everything they owned.

By the time they remembered that Shiroe had advised them to leave all unnecessary items in a safe-deposit box at the bank whenever they left town, they were already penniless.

She had heard that many players were contacting their acquaintances and working to gather information.

However, she and Touya were newbie players, and they didn’t have anyone to turn to. There was just one person they could think of, and they hesitated to contact him.

They might have been able to contact him right after the Catastrophe. However, after spending several days in a stupor, they’d lost all their property, and in this world, they would have been far too much of a burden.

Minori felt that she and Touya got along well.

She’d heard it said that when they reached middle school, brothers and sisters often began to detest each other. The fastidiousness and sense of independence among their age group made siblings of a near age a target for strict exclusion. Her classmates said they couldn’t even stand to look at their siblings.

Maybe the rest of the world was like that, but not Minori and Touya. They were close.

They never even wanted to fight, and the desire to help Touya was never far from Minori’s mind.

There was a reason for this.

After an accident when they were small, Touya had lost the ability to walk. There was no problem with his legs themselves, but he had been left with nerve damage.

It wasn’t that Minori felt sorry for him, and thus didn’t fight with him. The accident had been a terrible thing, and she sometimes wished she could take his place, but there was nothing she could do.

Even to her, his older sister, Touya seemed to be cheerful and a hard worker. Even in his situation, he never got angry or irritated with the people around him. Life was challenging when a family member was disabled, and Touya was always trying to make things easier for their father and mother.

She remembered that when they took him to and from the hospital twice a month, she and Touya had only talked about silly, trivial things. He’d joke around about manga and the Internet like any other middle school boy. From what the doctor said, Touya’s exams were sometimes quite painful, but he never let it show.

Sometimes Minori thought that Touya’s childish ways of speaking and acting were really intentional, something he did out of consideration for others.

Minori thought Touya was a fine little brother. Of course, as his older sister, she also thought he was a dummy who acted like a little kid, got carried away easily, and didn’t think before he did things.

Still, fundamentally, she could count on him. Even if his legs wouldn’t work for him, and no matter what difficulties he ran into in the future, she was sure Touya would continue to be himself.

Since that was the case, even if she’d only been born a few hours ahead of him, she had to fulfill her duty as his big sister. She was Touya’s guardian. When Touya had to do something, she wanted to provide him with the necessary power.

A kind of respect—the sort of feeling that doesn’t grow easily between siblings, particularly when they are young—had made the two of them close.

They’d started playing Elder Tales for a similar reason.

After his exams, Touya was exhausted and unable to go out, and he’d shown an interest in an online RPG. The two of them were already tired of all the ordinary indoor games, and they’d wheedled their parents into letting them play the game (on the condition that they didn’t neglect their schoolwork).

It was a world where Touya could run around as much as he wanted, without worrying about anyone else. Touya had been thrilled and enjoyed himself immensely, and the game had excited Minori as well; it was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Almost immediately, they’d fallen head over heels for Elder Tales.

However, because of their situation, Minori was well aware that some things just couldn’t be helped.

Sometimes being a child was very hard.

It meant it wasn’t possible to make your thoughts and dreams come true just by doing your best.

Minori was a child, and that made her just as much of a burden as Touya with his damaged legs. Sometimes being a child was a handicap, and it put just as much weight on someone else.

For example, even if she wanted to take Touya to the hospital herself, Minori couldn’t drive. Since she was a middle schooler, this was only natural, but it meant that burden fell on her parents.

Her abilities weren’t enough. She couldn’t take care of herself. She couldn’t save anybody. She couldn’t make her wishes come true the way she wanted to. —All of these characteristics made the faces of people she loved cloud over. In other words, they made her a burden.

Here, in the world of the game, having a low level made you so much of a burden that it was almost considered a sin.

She’d seen Shiroe from a distance, just once, after the Catastrophe.

The moment she’d seen the tall shadow with glasses, she’d known it was him.

Yet she hadn’t been able to call out to him.

After all, next to that figure, grimy with blood and dust, were a heavily armored warrior, who seemed to be as much of a veteran as Shiroe, and a beautiful girl, like a fairy of the night.

Shiroe had his own battles to fight.

That thought kept Minori from approaching him. In this chaotic world, everyone had their hands full trying to protect themselves. How could she beg an acquaintance, someone who’d only played with them a handful of times, for help?

When she closed her eyes, a menu opened behind her eyelids.

Minori’s friend list was short: Her brother Touya. A few of the newbie players she’d met at Hamelin. …And Shiroe.

Shiroe’s name shone brightly, and she stroked it gently with an imaginary fingertip.

To Minori, who’d lost nearly everything she could call her own, it was a treasure no one could take away.

I wish we could have learned a little bit more from Shiroe…

She pulled her mantle closer around her chilled body. Tonight’s darkness seemed even deeper than usual. The dull pain in her chest kept her from sleep.

Suddenly, a soft bell-like tone sounded in Minori’s ear.

She caught her breath sharply and then was startled at how loud it sounded there in the dark room.

In her mind’s eye, Shiroe’s name—the one she’d just touched—was pulsing.

She was afraid she might have triggered the telechat function by mistake, but when she checked, that didn’t seem to be the case. Shiroe was calling her. At this hour, just before dawn.

The bell chimed again.

Minori knew from experience that only she could hear it. Still, if she spoke, the Hamelin members might notice, and she risked waking her companions who slept nearby.

Even so, it was hard for Minori to ignore the sound of the bell.

Using her mental menu, she answered in a tiny, nearly inaudible voice. “Hello?”

“Um… Good evening. This is Shiroe. Do you remember me?”

“……—”

It wasn’t just that the familiar voice was nostalgic. It seemed like a bridge to pleasant, distant days, and it made Minori’s heart spill over.

In her dark, damp bed, wrapped in a dirty woolen mantle, Minori sniffled quietly.

“…That is Minori, isn’t it?”

The flood of feelings that washed over her had made her nose begin to run a bit, and she didn’t register Shiroe’s words the first time. She couldn’t reply. If she spoke, the others in the room might be suspicious. Even more than that, though, she didn’t want Shiroe to hear her voice this way, cracked and damp with tears.

In her heart, she nodded dozens of times, but aloud, Minori could only murmur yes in a small voice.

“”

“……”

The sound of breathing flowed between them. Minori struggled desperately to keep her unreasonable nose from snuffling; she was frightened that Shiroe would be disgusted with her, and she was so tense that the inside of her eyes seemed to flicker. Why had he called at this time of night? Why her? The questions raced around and around in her mind.

“…Minori. Listen carefully. Cough very quietly; once for yes, twice for no. If I get something wrong or you have something to tell me, cough three times. …Understand?”

At Shiroe’s question, the realization hit Minori like a lightning bolt:

He knows. Shiroe knows all about this.

The situation she was in. The sort of place Hamelin was.

She felt her ability to think, which had been half-numbed by her days of monotonous forced labor, coming back to life.

I don’t want to cause trouble for Shiroe. Not for him…

Now that she was a part of Hamelin, she understood full well.

Beginners didn’t have any systematic knowledge of this Elder Tales world, even if they were ten levels higher than Minori and Touya.

In this world, “knowledge” was a powerful weapon, and the lack of it was what kept newbies chained to their status as beginners. The common sense Shiroe had taught them as they played had become the strength she and Touya used to survive in this other world. Even in Hamelin’s terrible environment, she and Touya were able to maneuver a bit better than the other newbies, and this was due in large part to the few scraps of knowledge Shiroe had shared with them.

Shiroe was their benefactor. Minori had always thought so.

She’d wanted him to be even more than that.

“If you understand, cough once.”

Minori scraped what little warmth she had together, moistening her throat ever so slightly.

She gave one tiny cough.

Her throat was drier and achier than she’d realized, and even she thought the sound she managed to produce was pathetic.

She was indebted to Shiroe. She had to repay that debt. As Minori thought this, she swallowed several times to wet her throat, listening carefully.

“You and Touya are in Hamelin, aren’t you?”

One small cough.

“You’re giving your EXP Potions to Hamelin.”

Another small cough.

“…Are you all right?”

“……”

A nearly palpable silence filled the dark room.

Having heard that much, Minori knew what Shiroe was asking and what he was trying to do.

However, precisely because she understood, she felt a pain that nearly crushed her heart. Minori had no idea how Shiroe was planning to do it, but the method wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Shiroe was very close to resolving to save Minori and Touya.

What sort of price was he on the verge of paying in order to do something about their situation? In this other world, where everyone had to fight to survive, what would it end up costing him to save the two of them, burdens that they were?

How much were they worth, really?

There was only one answer to that question.

We’re all right. We’re absolutely fine. …They feed us every day, and my Tailoring level is going up, little by little. Touya and I can get by here. I’m sure Touya would say so, too. …We’re fine…

As she admonished herself, her heart’s voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else. In order to shut the door she longed for, the one that was dangerously close to opening, Minori gave one small cough. Just one.

We’re fine.

“Really?” Shiroe asked again.

His voice was gentle, and it reminded Minori of one of the times they’d played together.

That time, Touya had charged at the enemy, she’d run in to provide backup, and their careless actions had ended up drawing enemy reinforcements.

While Shiroe had used a sleeping spell to render the reinforcements powerless, Touya had fought desperately, and she’d recovered both of them. There were hordes of enemies, and their HP displays were always dyed red. She’d exhausted her MP in the excitement, and again and again she’d thought, We’re finished! It’s all over! but in the end, although they were limp and exhausted, all three of them had survived.

She’d heard that in Elder Tales level 90 was the highest level there was.

If he’d died, he would have lost experience points as a penalty, but they’d made him wander the border between life and death right along with them, when they were barely level 10. She’d felt wretched and ashamed; she’d apologized desperately, and she’d hit Touya on the head with her fist and made him apologize, too.

We can’t let Shiroe damage his valuable experience points over the two of us, she had thought. …But Shiroe had only laughed, looking almost like a little kid.

“I had fun. It’s an adventure, you know? There are some skills you only learn when you’re in trouble. …I think you’re a little too proper, Minori. You did have fun, didn’t you? I liked it.”

His voice had been kind, and that kindness had saved Minori. She could sense the same kindness now, across the telechat’s invisible line.

…And so she coughed, just once more.

We’re fine.

If she did that, then the next time she met Shiroe, she might be able to smile and talk with him. Of course, she’d need a bit more time. Right now, she was filthy, and she looked like a street urchin. She hadn’t even bathed. It was so bad she felt she couldn’t even call herself a girl at this point.

There was a small, smoldering pain deep in her chest, but it had to be better than causing trouble for Shiroe. Even Minori was having a hard time believing that logic anymore, but she forced herself to listen to it.

“…All right. You’re fine; I understand. In that case, let’s play together again. I’d really like to. It was fun. So just…hang on for a little while.”

“……—!!”

But that meant he didn’t understand at all!

Or, no, it might be because he did understand everything…but even so.

Conflicting thoughts clashed in Minori’s chest, turning into hot tears deep in her nose and forcing their way up. Why was Shiroe so stubborn? And why did he say such kind things?

Frustration that her own attempt to be considerate hadn’t been understood; shame, confusion, guilt at having pulled him in… Sadness. And in equal measure to those negative emotions: happiness, kindness, joy, hope…and trust in Shiroe.

Those two contrary sets of emotions mixed, churning Minori’s heart like a washing machine. She had to say something. She just didn’t know what to say.

If she was going to stop Shiroe, this was her last chance.

She had to cough. How many times? Once for “save us”? Twice for “don’t”? In the midst of tears she’d been unable to hold back, Minori coughed once. Then she coughed two more times.

“What’s wrong? Is there something you want to say?”

……I coughed three times. I… No, I don’t want to say anything—Shiroe isn’t… He isn’t our mom or dad. He’s nice, but that doesn’t give us the right to impose! We’d only drag him down. There’s no reason for him to carry us!

But she couldn’t say the words.

In a musty, silent room in Hamelin’s guildhall, Minori tried desperately to keep her breathing, which sounded nearly asthmatic, from echoing.

“I said to cough three times if there was something you wanted to say, didn’t I? Okay. I’ll hurry, so I can hear what it is. I’ve already made up my mind, though. I’ll do what I can. I told you when Touya was with us, remember? ‘A vanguard that can’t trust their rear guard will pay for that crime with their lives. The same goes for a rear guard that can’t trust their vanguard.’ So, when you say you’re okay, I believe you. Believe in me, too. I’ll come to help you, I promise.”

With the small sound of a severed connection, the telechat cut off.

Minori curled inward, hugging herself.

Her nose wouldn’t stop running, and it was all Shiroe’s fault for being selfish and not understanding. Emotions she couldn’t put into words overflowed, and it felt as if there was a storm inside her ears; she didn’t understand herself.

Still, something warm and certain, something that hadn’t been there an hour ago, had begun to grow inside her.

5

When Henrietta opened the door, she saw that all the other participants were there already.

It had been two days since their raucous celebration, and after a day spent cleaning, the Crescent Moon League guildhall had regained its former calm.

“What’s happened? Your call was so sudden…”

“C’mon, Henrietta. Have a seat.”

Marielle, Henrietta’s guild master, motioned for her to sit.

The Crescent Moon League conference room—which, until yesterday, had been littered with bottles and the leftovers from their feast—was now neat and tidy, and the air felt fresh.

Four men and women were seated at the enormous table.

The Crescent Moon League was represented by its guild master, Marielle; by Henrietta, who was in charge of the accounts; and by Shouryuu, who handled combat and hunting. For all practical purposes, these three led the Crescent Moon League.

Shiroe sat facing them.

Oh… Master Shiroe.

“Mr. Shiroe says he has something he wants to discuss with us.” Shouryuu, who was younger, bowed to Shiroe as he spoke.

“We dunno what the ‘somethin’ is yet, either.”

Marielle and Shouryuu’s words aside, Shiroe’s expression was hard. His eyes had a tendency to seem sharp—or rather, he had a habit of staring—but even so, there was a quiet forcefulness about him today. His determination seemed so strong that those endearing round glasses failed to soften the effect.

Hm…

Henrietta filed that look away for later.

Even under ordinary circumstances, Shiroe was a reliable young man. However, this Shiroe seemed like another person entirely. Henrietta thought it might not do to lump them together.

“Thank you for your time. I’m the one who called this meeting today. …First, I want to thank you for the banquet two days ago. Both you, Mari, and everyone at the Crescent Moon League. Thank you very much.”

At Shiroe’s words, Marielle waved her hands wildly.

“Don’t you worry about that! It was nothin’ to write home about, really!”

Shouryuu also waved his hands, denying any need for gratitude. The banquet had looked impressive, and the food had been superb, but there hadn’t been much actual expense.

Above all else, the Crescent Moon League members had also enjoyed themselves immensely. The celebration had really been for them as well. The idea that they’d have to formally express their thanks someday was already being discussed within the guild.

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine. After all, I got to play with darling Akatsuki to my heart’s content.”

Remembering Akatsuki’s adorable reactions, Henrietta smiled dreamily. Never mind the fact that Akatsuki herself had had tears in her eyes.

“That aside, then, I’m here on different business today. It’s the opposite of last time: I’ve come to ask for your help.”

My, my. That’s… Hm.

Henrietta watched Shiroe from behind her smart, rimless spectacles.

She couldn’t deny that his request was somewhat unexpected.

From what she had seen, Shiroe was a strong player with a compassionate personality. He wasn’t the type who would hesitate to help an acquaintance in trouble… The way he had, as ashamed as she was to admit it, helped the Crescent Moon League with Serara.

On that expedition, Shiroe and his friends had been a fantastic proxy for the Crescent Moon League’s rescue party. No doubt they’d done dozens of times better than Henrietta and the others could have. If he felt he’d be useful and could do something well, Shiroe wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand.

But if it was the other way around?

To Henrietta, in addition to being sensible and compassionate, Shiroe seemed like an introspective and very…clumsy young man. He was far worse at accepting help from others than he was at helping them.

And now Shiroe was asking for help.

What sort of request could it be?

Of course Henrietta had no intention of using Shiroe’s reluctance to ask for help to her advantage and bargaining down their debt of gratitude. No doubt the thought was even further from Marielle’s mind. However, she really did find it odd that the man himself would clearly state that he wanted their help.

“Ask for anything, Mr. Shiroe!”

“Yes, he’s right. The Crescent Moon League is in your debt, Master Shiroe.”

Matching her words to Shouryuu’s, Henrietta gave a welcoming response of her own. Under the circumstances, she had to: The Crescent Moon League really did owe Shiroe a great debt.

However, at the same time, Henrietta was concerned about Marielle. Ever since Henrietta had entered the room, Marielle had looked rather tense.

Of course, she was acting friendly on the surface, and Henrietta didn’t have the least suspicion that her consideration or kindness would falter. She’d been friends with Marielle for a long time. She knew full well that Marielle could never dislike Shiroe.

In that case, though, what was the gravity in Marielle’s expression?

Does Mari know what Master Shiroe intends to ask?

Shiroe didn’t smile at Henrietta and Shouryuu’s words. He pushed his glasses up with a finger and went straight to the heart of the matter.

“Two young players of my acquaintance are…being detained by, or forced to be part of, a certain guild. I want to help them.”

Shouryuu nodded, responding to Shiroe’s words.

“It’s that sort of thing, is it? You’d just have to cancel their guild contracts, wouldn’t you? Do you want us to set up a diversion, so you can complete the procedures for removing them from the guild? That’s easy. …Oh. Or did you mean the other thing? Did you want us to take care of them after you’ve gotten them out? To leave them with the Crescent Moon League? Of course, they’re welcome here. The more the merrier; we’d love it.”

Shouryuu’s reply was cheerful.

However, at his words, Marielle’s face grew even tenser.

—I shouldn’t think that’s it. No doubt Master Shiroe could save those two without any assistance from us. He wants our cooperation badly enough to ask for it formally. What sort of request could it be…?

“It looks as though this unsavory guild is collecting new players and extorting EXP Potions from them. They’re most likely selling them off to bring in operating funds. I don’t think that in itself is unforgivable.—Not at this point, at least. If asked whether I like it, though, I’d have to say that I don’t.”

As he continued, Shiroe’s tone was mild, but Shouryuu had frozen.

Now, when it was too late, he’d finally registered what was being said.

“That guild… Is it Hamelin by any chance? You’re right; they certainly aren’t a…very good establishment. Not good at all. However, they have major guilds backing them…”

The doubt Henrietta expressed was only natural. If the guild in question was Hamelin, it numbered Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword among its customers. Both guilds were powerful in Akiba. In terms of combat guilds, they were in the top five.

“Yes, that’s right. I intend to have them leave.”

Shiroe said it quite plainly.

A heavy silence filled the conference room.

Marielle gave a small sigh.

So Mari did know, or she guessed…

That would certainly explain the tension in her expression.

“H-have them leave? Erm… Do you mean you want to destroy them? That’s— Really? In any case, is it even possible to force a whole guild out? Even if you player killed them right and left, well, you’d probably damage their pride, but I don’t know if you could destroy the entire guild…”

Shouryuu’s voice was timid.

Henrietta had that same doubt.

The only ways to disband a guild were for the guild leader to decide to disband it or for all its members to leave. That was how the system worked.

It was possible to kill player characters through PKs. However, this world took after Elder Tales: It was gamelike. Here, where resurrection from death happened automatically, killing couldn’t do any serious damage. It might be possible to affect the guild members’ morale or property, but it wouldn’t influence the continued existence of the actual guild.

That meant that Shouryuu’s doubt—“Is it even possible to force a whole guild out?”—was correct. Logically speaking, it wouldn’t be possible to bring that about through external interference.

It might be possible for a huge guild to use its abundant resources as bait to lure in all the members of a smaller guild, crushing that guild as a result. She’d heard of similar strategies around Akiba.

However, even if one poured resources into bribes and fund provision, there was no guarantee that the target guild would collapse. If the Crescent Moon League were targeted by that sort of acquisition maneuver, even if most of the members were lured away, as long as Marielle stayed there and kept fighting by herself, the Crescent Moon League would still exist as far as the system was concerned.

Destroying a guild was that difficult and that hard to pull off. It wasn’t a matter of picking a target and crushing them. If that had been possible, the current situation in Akiba would have been much different.

In any case, these words—“Destroy that guild, make them leave”—were the sort of things players yelled as insults or when picking a fight. They were a type of threat, not a genuine plan.

Shouryuu wondered if he should take Shiroe’s words as an expression of enthusiasm, a sort of goal. A declaration along the lines of “I’m gonna take you down!”

“No, I mean it literally. I’m going to have them leave Akiba.”

…But Shiroe denied Shouryuu’s idea point-blank.

His voice, nearly devoid of emotion, was so calm it was almost cold. Henrietta sneaked a glance at Shiroe’s expression. If she’d seen anger there, or irritation, or determination, Henrietta probably wouldn’t have felt so convinced.

However, the only expression on Shiroe’s face was a smile so faint it might not have been there at all. Although technically a smile, it only curled the corners of his mouth slightly, and it had nothing to do with amusement or delight. It was a hunter’s expression.

Shiroe’s mind was already made up to the point where determination was unnecessary.

Ah… Master Shiroe…

He was going to do it.

That was what Henrietta thought right then.

She also thought it would be pointless to try to stop him. They probably wouldn’t be able to overturn Shiroe’s resolution.

Henrietta’s father was a professional stockbroker, and she remembered him wearing a similar expression. He wore it when he took on a big gamble or when he was selling desperately in the midst of a panic that rocked the market. He wouldn’t come home for days on end, and when he did come home, it was only to take a quick nap and a shower before he bolted out the door again, and there, in the entry hall, before dawn, he’d smile this same smile. A tiger’s smile.

At the same time, Henrietta could also understand Marielle’s distress.

Hamelin was backed by several big guilds. Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword, its customers, were trying to use the increase in experience points from the EXP Pots to transcend level 90. It was a reckless method of growth that only A-class guilds with abundant capital could pull off, but it certainly might be possible to reach the next level that way.

From an ethical perspective, extorting EXP Pots from beginners and selling them off was a crooked move. It repulsed Henrietta, and if someone were to suggest doing something similar at the Crescent Moon League, she’d oppose it with everything she had.

However, she couldn’t categorically declare that it was an unforgivable crime.

Even if there had been heavy mental pressure or some variety of intimidation, the beginners had joined the guild of their own accord, and they were staying there. Since that was the case, the extortion and reselling didn’t violate the rules of the game. And, in this other world, that meant it wasn’t illegal.

Laws… Laws, hm…? They really are more ephemeral than a mirage on a summer morning. It’s difficult to tell whether they’re there or not. Besides—

There were feasibility issues as well.

Say that act—legal or illegal—was evil. Were there any people or organizations in Akiba who could take them to task over it? The answer was no.

The influence of the big guilds was vast, and no player was quixotic enough to go against them when there was no particular merit in doing so. The members of the big guilds were already using their guilds’ names to win preferential use of all the town’s facilities. Not only that, but their domineering, unkind treatment of players who belonged to smaller guilds was growing conspicuous.

Under the circumstances, sympathizing with Shiroe’s views would mean making enemies of the big guilds. Marielle’s Crescent Moon League might be small, but it was an organization, and she was its leader. Henrietta was beginning to understand what her severe expression meant.

Leaving aside the question of what was just, no one had the power, authority, or muscle to serve that justice. That made “justice” no more than pie in the sky. As a result, it didn’t matter whether it existed or not: Nobody even cared. That was the unvarnished truth of the current Akiba.

Mari…

Henrietta bit her lip.

She was indebted to Shiroe. She also liked him as an individual.

He was, with the qualifier “among men without a shred of cuteness about them,” a young man she wouldn’t mind having as a close friend. However, even so, there were some requests she couldn’t agree to.

She probably should have stopped Shiroe’s dangerous rampage with a heartfelt warning.

Still, when she saw that fearless resolution, the words wouldn’t come.

Shiroe was normally so introspective that it made him look reserved. This was the first time she’d seen him show fighting spirit. Was it all right for someone like her to interfere with it? When she asked herself that question, there was no way she could be confident in her answer.

Watching Henrietta falter this way out of the corner of her eye, Marielle hesitated several times, then opened her mouth.

“Kiddo… Look, I know how you feel. I really do, but… I… No, y’see, we’re…”

Her reply was probably meant to be an apology. She wasn’t going to make Henrietta and Shouryuu, the guild’s executives, do it. As the guild’s leader, she was going to turn Shiroe’s request down herself.

Henrietta knew that Marielle had been prepared for Shiroe to be displeased, or even to hate her, when she began to speak.

However, Shiroe interrupted her firmly.

“Mari. I’m sorry, but let me finish. I’m halfway through now. This is still only half. Hamelin is just a bonus. On its own, it’s nowhere near enough. It’s far too minor. A little thing like that is just a reward on the way. At this point, let me be blunt: I don’t like the town’s current atmosphere. It’s petty and uncool and ugly.”

As the others sat dumbfounded, Shiroe kept speaking, as though he alone had been convinced of everything from the start.

“…And so I’m going to clean up Akiba. Hamelin is just a side benefit. I’m helping Minori and Touya because they’re my friends, but even that—it’s secondary. There are a lot of other things that we need to do. We can’t waste time on this.”

Shouryuu, Henrietta, and even Marielle were as still as statues. Shiroe continued talking regardless.

“When did being a small guild become something bad, something that meant you had to creep and hide? Yes, Susukino was rotten. With only two thousand people, it’s no wonder the strong guilds swaggered around as if they owned it. But Akiba’s our hometown. It’s the main base for more than half the players on the Japanese server. The server’s biggest town. Akiba, uncool, with a nasty, uncomfortable atmosphere, and everyone looking down as they walk… Why should it be like that? That makes it seem as though we were all born to become losers. Occupying hunting grounds, the big guilds’ rapid advances, discord between rivals: I’d never say those things are bad, but I can’t stand to watch myself being strangled like this. Is any of it worth making newbies cry? We’ve been tossed into another world, and we have to work together to survive; is it worth kicking that whole situation to the curb? Sure, there are thirty thousand of us, but there are only thirty thousand of us. Aren’t we underestimating it?—We’re not taking this other world seriously. We’re not desperate enough.”

They had no words.

It was an outrageous speech.

From the fact that Marielle—not to mention Henrietta and Shouryuu—was frozen, she certainly hadn’t seen this coming.

Rescuing friends they could understand. However, crushing a whole guild to do it was already over the top. When, above and beyond that, the talk turned to changing the current trends and situation, it sailed past “over the top” and left the realm of sanity entirely.

However, when they heard what he had to say, what shook them more than the substance of his words was Shiroe’s voice. It was a calm voice, with no tension or excitement about it, but it held hidden steel. There was a sharpness to it that would cut on contact.

Cautiously, Henrietta let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She’d misjudged him, this young man called Shiroe. She’d thought he was strong and kind, but introspective and shy. …She’d been wrong. The essential part of this youth was terribly pure. He was single-minded regarding goals, and both his thoughts and methods were straightforward. He was efficient, and there was no mercy in him.

Fight and take it. This young man was faithful to that simple principle. He might hesitate for a long time before he made up his mind. The blade might be dulled. But when he decided to do something, he would do it.

“Miss…Mari?”

At Shouryuu’s query, Marielle bit her lip. Even the act of crushing one guild would place a huge burden on the Crescent Moon League, and the risk would be great. By that reckoning, she wouldn’t be able to agree to Shiroe’s proposal.

…But Shiroe had said he planned to change the whole town. That meant if they won this particular battle, the return would skyrocket.

That was the reason for Marielle’s hesitation. In this case, the return would be a rise in status for the smaller guilds. However, that wasn’t all.

It was also a problem of the soul.

“We’re…”

“Please help me.”

For the first time, Shiroe bowed his head.

“Master Shiroe? Where have your friends gone?”

Henrietta spoke up in an attempt to rescue Marielle, who was searching for the right words. By all rights, Naotsugu and Akatsuki could have been here as well.

“They’re investigating and making preparations. I apologize for the late introduction: I’ve formed a guild, with myself as guild master. Its name is Log Horizon, meaning the horizon of all we’ve documented. Its members are Naotsugu, Akatsuki, Nyanta, and myself, and this mission will be its first operation.”

“You…made yourself a guild.”

“Yes. I’m sorry; after you invited us to yours…”

“No, no…”

Marielle shook her head. The gesture was almost childlike.

“No, that’s nothin’ to apologize for. …Well, well. Kiddo… Congratulations. You made yourself a guild. You did, kiddo. You made a home for yourself.”

Marielle smiled. There were tiny teardrops at the corners of her eyes.

Shiroe, who’d always avoided joining a guild, had created a place for himself to belong. Henrietta couldn’t accurately gauge the implications, but she understood what Marielle’s tears meant. Henrietta’s friend, with her simple, genuine tendencies, was wishing Shiroe the best from the bottom of her heart.

“Guild master. …Would it be okay if we at least heard him out? I’m interested. We do a lot around town, and I’ve felt the bad atmosphere Mr. Shiroe mentioned. I was worried Akiba might stay this way forever. It’s been bothering me for a long time.”

Shouryuu voiced his opinion briefly.

As the Crescent Moon League’s combat team leader, he understood the circumstances, too. He knew he might make trouble for Marielle if he stuck his oar in unnecessarily. Still, in that sense, it spoke to how obviously torn Marielle herself was between wanting to help and wanting to protect the guild.

Henrietta put in a few words of her own.

“Yes, whether we can help or not will depend on the method. You know we couldn’t commit ourselves to a plan with no real prospects, Master Shiroe.”

Beaten to the punch by her two subordinates, Marielle—who must have felt that she should be the one to take the brunt of any unpleasantness—seemed a bit embarrassed. Almost immediately, though, she added her own encouragement. “Go on, kiddo. Talk.”

At those words, Shiroe seemed to take half a moment to put his thoughts in order. Then, abruptly, he cut to the chase.

“We need capital. Five million gold coins, to start.”

“That’s an impossible sum!” Henrietta shrieked. As the person in charge of the Crescent Moon League’s vault, she had a pretty accurate grasp of the guild’s assets.

The funds in the Crescent Moon League’s guild account came to about sixty thousand gold coins. If they sold off most of their stored items, they could probably pull together as much as 100,000 coins. If the individual property of each and every guild member was sold, they might be able to reach 500,000.

…But that was the limit. Even if they poured in all their members’ assets, they couldn’t scrape together more than 500,000 coins. Henrietta, a level-90 player, had about twenty thousand to her name. Considering the fact that an individual with fifty thousand was quite wealthy, five million gold coins was an astronomical amount.

“How’re we supposed to pull together a fortune like that?! I know I shouldn’t be sayin’ stuff like this myself, but we’re… We’re a tiny guild, y’know?”

“M-m-money?!”

As expected, Marielle and Shouryuu groaned in despair.

If it was a question of combat power or labor, they could have given it their best effort. However, supplying funds probably struck them as an impossible demand from the start.

“What do you think, Miss Henrietta?”

“Me?”

“In the old world, you’re an accountant with a master’s in Management Studies, correct? I think it’s possible. Everyone’s still underestimating things in this world, you see. It isn’t that big a deal. All we have to do is pull it in. Money is just the first step. It’s nowhere near the biggest obstacle.”

“……Pull it in…?”

Henrietta’s consciousness expanded.

Ripples spread out from Shiroe’s words.

We’re not taking this other world seriously. We’re underestimating it.

Why would Shiroe say a thing like that? What did he think they were underestimating? This was the world of Elder Tales. Yes, it was another world, but there was also no world they knew better.

“You don’t need to think too deeply about what sort of capital it is or who it might belong to. The other guys have no intention of following the rules, either. Am I wrong? …This is a place with no rules. There’s no need to voluntarily straitjacket ourselves.”

In a way, it was absurd.

However, for that reason alone, Henrietta understood. She was probably the only one who did. Right now, she and Shiroe were the only ones in the room. I’m the only one who’s really hearing Shiroe. Henrietta was inexplicably sure of it. As that was the case, she needed to weigh decisions within that territory in Marielle’s place.

What Shiroe was saying was:

“Make rules that will attract money”…

Henrietta felt dizzy. Shiroe had practically said they’d strike down all who opposed them. In other words, he was telling them to takeit.

The word take wasn’t limited to violence. Not only that, there was no need to act illegally or use atrocious methods. Even when the world was operating in perfect legality, this “taking” happened on a daily basis. Hadn’t Henrietta felt the world was that sort of place when she watched her father?

On the contrary, she knew instinctively that it would be foolish to invite ill will. Illegal methods and methods that left mental discord in their wake were a card to be played only as a last resort, when there were no other options. Preferably, their “rules” would have people cheerfully handing them their money.

“…I think we…can.”

Henrietta nodded.

“We can collect that capital.”

“Huh?”

“What?!”

Henrietta answered Marielle and Shouryuu’s startled cries with thoughts that were still a bit vague. She was currently making fine mental corrections to the plot she’d hit upon, fleshing it out.

“Pulling together five million coins won’t be the end, will it? What do you plan to do after that?”

If Henrietta’s instincts were correct, the young man in front of her had something truly stupendous in mind.

The feeling she was picking up from him was that of someone who’d burn down a house to get rid of the rats or buy up a garment manufacturer because he wanted a T-shirt.

No matter how preposterous a road it was, if that was the only road that led to his goal, Shiroe would take it.

“Collecting five million is the first step. The hardest part comes after that. It’s…everyone’s good will and hope. If many of the guilds that live here in Akiba don’t care what the town turns into, then we’ll lose. However, if that happens, there was no help for it. If that proves to be the case, I’ll feel no regret over losing that sort of town. That said, I believe it won’t. There must be more players who like Akiba than players who hate it. It’s a bit late for me to say this now, but I have no intention of demanding your cooperation as payment for Serara’s rescue. I came to you, the Crescent Moon League, because I need your help. I came because there are things I want you—Mari, and Miss Henrietta, and Shouryuu—to do. I’ll ask again: Please help me.”

Shiroe bowed his head deeply.

Shouryuu gave a small nod. On seeing it, Marielle examined Henrietta’s expression.

Shiroe was serious. He seriously thought this could be done, and he seriously intended to try. That was what had made Shouryuu want to hear the rest of his idea and what had made Marielle hesitate to make a decision.

This young man was capable of risking himself for somebody else. However, wasn’t it harder for him to say, “Please help me,” than it was to put himself on the line?

Henrietta thought that will was noble.

If Shiroe was serious, then even if his opponent was all of Akiba, and even if the strategy was outrageous, he might be able to find a way to win.

Henrietta’s severe financial executive’s instincts were telling her so in a whisper.

“Yes, Mari. Do as you please.”

“I, uh… The Crescent Moon League…”

Marielle squeezed her hands into fists, answering Shiroe with the expression of a guild master.

“The Crescent Moon League will cooperate with your plan, kiddo. …We’d like this town to shape up, too. It feels like, if this keeps up, we’ll end up losing somethin’ critical. B-but listen… We aren’t a real prosperous outfit, so… Don’t go pullin’ a midnight disappearin’ act on us, all right? Even then, though, I guess we’d have to help. If we just keep on pretendin’ we don’t see, we’ll rot away inside; that’s a problem of the soul, after all. So, we’ll take that risk, too. …C’mon, kiddo. Tell us how. If there was somethin’ we could do and we didn’t, I think we’d regret it forever.”

1Guildscommunities of any size created by Adventurerswere a system that played a central role in player interaction withinElder Tales. They were a continuous relationship contract created when two or more unaffiliated players joined up, establishing the guild. Adventurers affiliated with the same guild received various privileges, such as common safe-deposit boxes and the use of a dedicated communication function.Guildhalls, one such privilege, were zones that guilds could own or rent.For example, the guildhalls in Akiba's guild center were roughly divided into four ranks: halls with three, seven, fifteen, or thirty-one rooms. Having a guildhall of a size that corresponded to that of one's guild was plain common sense. The halls could be used to store various items that wouldn't fit in members' individual bank safe-deposit boxes, as well as to house equipment used in item production.The biggest guilds sometimes used an entire external building to do this, instead of the guild center.There was a theory that the world ofElder Taleswas the future shape of the real world and the town of Akiba the Half-Gaia Project reproduction of Akihabara held many ruined buildings. Many of these ruins were uninhabited, and although they cost quite a sum, it was possible for guilds and individuals to buy or rent them.By making changes on the Settings screen, anyone who purchased one of these zones could customize it by leaving items there, permitting combat, or setting entry and exit permissions for individual users. Enormous guilds, in turn, would purchase one of these buildings and transform it into their headquarters.In guild center terms, the guildhall of the Crescent Moon League was a B-rank hall, one with seven rooms.While it certainly wasn't vast, it held sufficient facilities for a guild of their size: With four rooms, one workroom, one storeroom, and a midsized conference room, it was, in Marielle's words, handy.However, the conference room would be crowded with even fifteen occupants, and it certainly wasn't large enough to hold a banquet for a group of more than thirty, including Shiroe and his companions.For that reason, Marielle and the other guild members had decorated all the rooms in the guildhall, with the exception of the storeroom, for the party to celebrate Serara's return.The rooms were decorated here and there with modest fresh flowers, and a clean cloth had been laid over a table that was normally used as a manufacturing surface for small articles. The guildhall had been swept sparkling clean from corner to corner, and some rooms had been equipped with low wisteria-cane tables and lots of cushions so that guests would be able to sit in circles and chat. A temporary row of wisteria-cane chairs had even been set up in the corridor.These weren't expensive items: The Crescent Moon League's craftsmen had manufactured the very best things they could make and brought them to the guildhall.Marielle and the others had gone to the outskirts of town to meet Shiroe's group, and as soon as they returned to Akiba after rescuing Serara, the travelers were jubilantly invited back to the guildhall. Since they'd been in touch via telechat nearly every day, the Crescent Moon League members had known full well for several days that Shiroe and the others were returning.Having heard the secret of real cooking from Nyantaalso via telechatthe Crescent Moon League Chefs had spent those few days combining lots of ingredients and making food for the party.According to Marielle, in order to get used to the new way of cooking they'd learnedin which Chefs cooked directly, without using the item creation menuthe Crescent Moon League Chefs had made scores of dishes over and over, barely even taking time to sleep.Even the samples had been wildly popular with the Crescent Moon League members, who had been given only depressingly monotonous food up till now, and it had become another cause for celebration alongside Serara's return.Of course, it wasn't as if there were no problems with this new cooking technique.First, with the new method, one had to take the time to actually prepare the food. In the previous method, when cooking was performed from the item creation menu, even stews and pickles were done in ten seconds, but with the new method, one had to give stews time to stew and fermented foods time to ferment.In addition, when making dishes from the item creation menu, the required ingredients were limited to five at most. Subtle seasonings, oil, and secondary ingredients had probably been left out of the game for convenience's sake. However, with the new method, naturally, ingredients one didn't have on hand wouldn't be included in the finished dish: Curry made with only meat, potatoes, onions, and spices wouldn't have carrots in it.They'd also discovered that their cooking skills seemed to be reviewed when they attempted to prepare dishes that were over a certain difficulty level. If a Chef's cooking skills weren't at the required level, no matter what ingredients were used, the attempt would fail and the dish would turn into a weird blackened object or a slimy, sticky glob. The general trend seemed to be that using special cooking techniques such as frying, roasting, and steaming required more advanced cooking skills, but they didn't completely understand the particulars yet.There was an even more basic issue as well.Up until now, if players used the same ingredients and selected the same target item from the item creation menu, a food item would come out exactly the same no matter who made it. It would look the same, of course, and the flavor would be the same as well although it would be the characteristic soggy rice crackers flavor.However, with the new method, since the item creation menu wasn't used, the quality of the finished dishes varied widely, even if the Chefs who made them had the same levels and skill values. Even if a player's cooking skills were advanced, it was the actual player who was doing the cooking. Cooking skills became a number that showed the difficulty of the dishes a player wasallowedto make and no longer showed what sort of dishes the playercouldmake.The new method did have many limitations, but that didn't mean it was worthless. On the contrary, the discovery had tremendous value. Viewed from the perspective of common cooking sense at home on Earth, the fact that it took time, the fact that it required a variety of ingredients, and the fact that flavors changed depending on who was cooking were only natural.More than anything, the Crescent Moon League guild members were as sick and tired of the flavorless, factory-made, energy barlike food items as Shiroe and the others had been.I tell ya, we let the food items break us, and we completely lost sight of the fact that livestock feed isn'tfood! This stuff we're eating right now?Thisis food!As the young Crescent Moon League magic user said during the banquet, until they'd chanced upon genuinely delicious food, they had failed to realize how terrible the food they'd been living on actually was.The flurried dinner preparations and decorating had ended, and the guildhall to which Shiroe and the others were invited as the guests of honor was steeped in a festive atmosphere.Shiroe and his group were shown to the great table that had been set up in the conference room and given aperitifs, along with the reassurance that All the food will be completely ready in another hour! Having changed out of their traveling clothes, Shiroe and his friends were each welcomed warmly.Although Shiroe and the others enjoyed being entertained, the Crescent Moon League members who were entertaining them also enjoyed the banquet. It was the first boisterous gathering filled with food this splendid, luxurious, andbest of alldelicious to be held since the Catastrophe.We're partyin' today! Eat, drink, and be merry!To the players, who'd been discouraged by their life since the Catastrophe, Marielle's cheery proclamation was the best possible encouragement.For a while, the conference room was filled with words of gratitude. But then, suddenly saying, I'll just go take a look, Nyanta stood. Serara hastily followed him. From the sounds that came after, the heartwarming pair had gone to the temporary kitchen that was currently taking up the entire workroom, where they had joined the Chefs of the Crescent Moon League and threw themselves into the party preparations like battle-scarred veterans.When using the new cooking method, the list of food items registered on the item creation menu was useless. Each Chef could only use the dishes and cooking methods they personally knew, and this was greatly affected by the sort of cooking experience they'd had in the real world.To that end, Nyanta and the Crescent Moon League Chefs compared their culinary knowledge, shared the recipes they knew, and created a festive banquet with even more flair.The Crescent Moon League members who hadn't been able to fit into the conference room found places in the other rooms, drinking and carousing wherever they liked.Dish after dish was brought out.Fried chicken, omelets bursting with tomatoes, a salad of corn and lettuce, seafood paella with saffron, an unleavened bread a little like naan, and spicy mutton soup. Roast venison flavored with rock salt and herbs. Fruits of all colors piled high on a platter, and delicate biscuits topped with lots of custardy cream.Serara walked from room to room with platters of food, waiting on the guests. In every room, players told Serara, This is a banquet to celebrateyoursafe return. Sit down and enjoy it! However, Serara only laughed and told them, You were the ones who saved me. Let me thank you, and continued diligently serving.This behavior was so touching that Serara's fan base at the Crescent Moon League grew remarkably, and in every room, she was pressed into taking part in a toastHave this, at leastuntil she grew quite drunk.Shiroe and his friends were also in great demand.Naotsugu was surrounded by younger players and was discussing battles with them.The Crescent Moon League was still a young guild. Only a few members, Marielle included, were level 90. Even Marielle and the others wereonlylevel 90 and hadn't seen what lay beyond.What I'm saying is, as long as you and your companions' levels are similar, that's enough. It's what'sbeyondthe level that's important, not the level itself.Beyond the level You mean the mysteries?!Shouryuu, a Swashbuckler whose red face might have been the product of intoxication, quizzed Naotsugu, who was wolfing down a skewer of sweet and spicy chicken. Shouryuu was a young player who was in charge of organizing battles and hunts at the Crescent Moon League, and he'd gone on several excursions with Naotsugu. To him, Naotsugu probably seemed like a hero.Mm. I meanpanties!!At Naotsugu's forceful declaration, everyone in the room was taken aback for a moment and the atmosphere seemed to curdle. Even Shouryuu's expression said, What is this guy talking about?Possibly the atmosphere struck Naotsugu as dicey, too. He cleared his throat several times, then continued, as if trying to smooth things over.Uh Kidding. That was a trendy little joke. Now that I've got your attention Let's see So, as long as you depend on level when you fight, whenever an enemy beats you, it'll be because your level wasn't high enough, right? So what happens if you play like that until you hit the highest level? If you've maxed out your level and there's an enemy you can't beat, you'll never beat it, because you can't boost your level any higher. See? If that happens, you're through. There's no way you'll ever win. Despair city.To keep that from happening, you need to work with your friends and get a bit tricky. If you don't do those two things, you'll always lose somewhere in the end. It's too late to figure that out once your level's as high as it'll go. A guy who's never worked with his friends won't be able to turn into a team player right off the bat just because he's come up against an enemy he can't beat. On the other hand, you can cooperate and use your head no matter how low your level is. Do that, and you'll go straight to the top. It's important to keep asking yourself, Is there anything else I can do?' Our man Shiroe's an expert at that. I mean, he's Machiavelli-with-glasses, y'know? The guy'll use any cheap trick to win!That speech seemed to make a pretty good impression.Of course, if Shiroe had been listening, he probably would have said, Don't use me as the punch line.After that, the conversation turned into a lively discussion of what sort of tricks to use when fighting a particular enemy and what should be done in this or that situation. For better or worse, the players in this world were gamers. Even if they'd been tossed into another world, once their souls had regained some of their energy, they wanted to learn.Meanwhile, Akatsuki was being held captive in one of the rooms.It was a room used by the women of the Crescent Moon League.The room was decorated with potpourri and a vanity, and although simple, it felt neat, tidy, and somehow elegant. In its center, Akatsuki was surrounded by five women.All right, Akatsuki. It's about time you resigned yourself, my dear.I refuse.Akatsuki's expression was, as always, so serious it made her look cross, but her eyes were flicking right and left, searching for some way to escape. However, she was completely surrounded, and she couldn't find an opening.Don't be afraid. We'll be gentle.Would you get it through your head that that's a villain's line?The leader of the women, Henriettaa Bard with bright, elegant, honey-colored curlswas bearing down on her, flexing both hands menacingly. Frightened, Akatsuki took a step backstraight into the arms of the tall woman standing behind her, who caught and hugged her.You're so little and cute!Don't say little.' I'm older than you are. Probably.The Crescent Moon League's guild master was Marielle.It was quite rare for a woman to serve as the head of a guild, and it meant that the Crescent Moon League attracted rather more women than most other guilds. Not a few of these players were, like Henriettathe Bard who managed the guild's accounts, absolutely crazy for cute things.Akatsuki's slight stature and sweet, doll-like face had won her many fans in the Crescent Moon League. There were, of course, guys with secret crushes on her, but the ones who were really enthusiastic and hard to deal with were her female fan club.Ta-daaa! We've got three summer dress styles for you today.Wait. What sort of fight would anyone wear those to?!Henrietta had begun to present the showy girls' dresses, her cheeks flushed a bit in embarrassmentas though she had the wrong idea about somethingbut Akatsuki interrupted her almost immediately.Since she was dealing with women, Akatsuki couldn't respond with a physical attack of the sort she visited on Naotsugu. All she could do was kick and squirm. Not only that, but since the women thought eventhiswas cute, Akatsuki was left without any way to fight or the energy to do it.On top of that, the dresses they brought outa violet cotton frock, an organdy dress frothy with lace and frillswere so young and feminine they made her dizzy.I am my liege's ninja! I can't wear frivolous clothes like that!We have Master Shiroe's permission. Come now. Give up.I've been tricked! My liege! You set me up, didn't you?!Going to her fate almost in tears, Akatsuki was mobbed by the crazed women.2The banquet reached its zenith, and the enjoyable time passed in a whirl of repeated thanks and congratulations, toasts and compliments on the feast.They ate enormously, drank fantastically, and made merry.It must have been about the time when the moon had set completely.The Crescent Moon League guildhall, which still held a faint echo of the banquet's heat, was wrapped in the unique atmosphere that follows festivals: a satisfied, slightly wistful, happy tranquillity.The tables that had been set up here and there were littered with bottles of alcohol, plates of half-eaten food, and buckets of ice that had been used to chill drinks, like beaches after a typhoon.The guild members lay all around the room, under tables, on sofas, or curled up hugging cushions.Naotsugu was sprawled out on his back in the conference room, snoring, his arms and legs spread-eagled. Akatsuki, who'd been dolled up by Henrietta, the Crescent Moon League's expert in all things feminine, had fallen asleep possibly from exhaustion on a large cushion that enfolded and nearly buried her.Whoops.Shiroe caught a bottle that had been teetering on the edge of the table, then picked up a few more and tossed them into his rucksack together. The bag, a magic item that canceled out the weight of anything put into it, was also a powerful ally when cleaning up rooms.Shiroe and Marielle were the only two awake in the conference room full of sleepers.The table that had been pulled into the corner of the room still held a stack of several large plates and some leftovers, but everything that could have been bumped into and scattered across the room by a tipsy partygoer had been cleared away. Marielle, who'd been moving around the conference room laying wool blankets over her sleeping companions, put her hands on her hips and stretched. Then she spoke to Shiroe.Think this'll do it?Sure.Somewhere, he heard a small murmur, as though someone was talking in their sleep.As Shiroe responded to Marielle, he smiled a little at the voice. Of course he kept his own voice low, so as not to wake anyone.What now? Are you gonna sleep, too, kiddo?I'm not all that tired.I seeMarielle came over to Shiroe, looking into his face as if she were seeing him for the first time in a very long while.In that case, why don't I fix us some tea? Let's go to the guild master's office. No sense in hangin' out here.Beckoning to Shiroe, Marielle left the conference room. Wait just a sec, she whispered. As they went, she checked each of the rooms. In every one, sated from their feast, guild members slept on sofas, cushions, or right on the floor.Tomorrow's gonna be a big ol' cleanup day.I'll help.Now how could we let our guests help us clean?When Marielle looked at the guild members, her expression was warm and gentle. Just being able to see her like this was enough to make Shiroe glad they'd accepted the mission.Tidying up only the bottles and platters that looked hazardous, the two of them made for the guild master's office. It was the ultrafeminine room where, before their journey, they'd heard Marielle's story and resolved to make the trip to Susukino.Only the large work desk seemed suited to the termoffice. The rest of the space was coordinated in pastel colors to the point where it might as well have been Marielle's private room.What'll you have?Anything's fine.All righty. Let's see what we've got. HmMarielle brought some black-leaf tea from the beverages that were left in the kitchen. Made with black tea leaves, the tea could be drunk hot or cold, and varieties blended with fruit had a particularly clean, brisk flavor.The two of them sat on the sofa, finally relaxing for a bit.Shiroe was always the last one to fall asleep after a commotion like this one. It wasn't that he disliked parties; on the contrary, he loved them. It was just that the more fun he had, the more he felt that he wanted to watch over it to the very end, and it kept him from falling asleep. It was a very old habit of his, and Nyanta and the others had always teased him about it.Marielle seemed to share that feeling; the way she'd looked lovingly at each of her companions as she'd covered them with blankets had made an impression on him.From the guildhall, they could feel the sleepers' presence and, quite faintly, hear the sounds of people turning in their sleep. It was far more reassuring than complete silence.You really saved us this time, and I mean that. Thanks so much.Enough. We didn't do anything that special.Still slightly giddy from the festive heat of the banquet, Shiroe's mood was light as he answered. He hadn't expected to be thanked this heartily. Well, to be completely honest, he'd assumed they'd be thanked, but he'd never dreamed thateveryonewould thank them this way.He remembered the huge smiles of the good-natured Crescent Moon League guild members.If anything, Shiroe tended to be shy with strangers. He thought he was probably hard to approach, unlike Naotsugu and Nyanta, but the Crescent Moon League members had even come to him, offering him food and expressing their gratitude.I never thought we'd make them so happyIn actuality, he'd been prepared to be told that they had been out of line: Outsiders poking their noses where they didn't belong; who did they think they were?He hadn't been able to forgive the world for becoming what it had become, and he'd gone out of his way to undertake the long trip up to Susukino in an attempt to burn through that irritation In other words, he'd done nothing more than push his own incredibly personal standards onto everyone else.Shiroe was fully aware of how arrogant that had been.I don't regret it, but I do know it's nothing they should be thanking me for.For that reason, being thanked so freely left him at a loss as to how to respond. He felt rather humbled and ashamed.If that wasn't anythin' special, I don't know what is. We'll have to think of a way to thank you.No, really, don't worry about it How were things here while we were away?Here, huh?At Shiroe's question, Marielle's expression clouded slightly.Shiroe didn't ask her why. He only waited, swirling the tea in his glass.Akiba'ssettled down a bit, I think. It's more settled than it was anyhow.Settled down'?Yep. PKs are way down. And public order It doesn't seem bad to me. I guess it depends on what you're comparin' it to, but still. At the very least, it feels better than when it was real awful. All of that's better.Marielle continued, searching for the words as she spoke.Listen, though. This atmosphere's no good. I can't really say what bugs me about it, but What I mean is Hmm. I can't tell you, This or that is bad, and that's what's wrong,' but even so, somethin's broken somewhere. I'd like to do somethin' about it, but there's nothin' to be done. I'm pretty sure it's 'cos the rankings have been hashed out.Rankings.There was something disturbing and sinister about the sound of that word.We're a pretty small guild, y'know? Just under thirty of us. Plus, four of us are level ninety, and about half of us are level fifty or under. I'm not complainin', mind, but as a practical problem, it's a fact. It's somethin' objective, and we can't change it. For instance, right now, D.D.D. is Akiba's biggest combat guild. From what I hear, they've got over 1,500 members. I bet they've got more level nineties than we can shake a stick at. That's another objective fact we can't change.Marielle set her glass on the table and continued, kneading her fingertips together.Now I'm not sayin' that's bad. The big guys have their own big-guy problems; believe me, I know. But how should I put it? Things like that are buildin' up, and it's gettin' to the point where we can't fix it As you'd expect, the big guilds with all the equipment are doin' well; that's only natural. In some areas, places like that are settin' the mood and the rules for the town. Like preferential use of the market, say.They're doing things like that?These aren't clear-cut rules,' mind. It's just, with numbers like that The big guilds are the ones who are actin' all important. One way or another, see, they've got the power. If players that belong to those guilds act important to match, they get away with it, and they think that's how it should be.Ridiculous.Of course the big guilds had more members, and naturally they'd be more efficient at some things. For instance, the main source of income for fighting guilds was loot won from monster battles. In battles fought specifically to win loot, known as hunting, larger numbers were linked to efficiency. When it came to making efficient use of the materials won as loot, having lots of production classes and companions in-house let the guild develop many situations to its advantage. Still, that didn't make each individual player who was affiliated with the guild any stronger, and it certainly didn't make them more important.Shewould probably have laughed it off.She would have looked at the players who could do nothing but live huddled together in narrow-minded groups and laughed loud and long as she declared:You people aren't even the teensiest bit cool.Remember I said PKs were down? It's the same reason. This guild here is tougher than that guild there. Or weaker. With that hashed out already, there's no point in fightin' anymore just to make it clearer. Nobody who knows they're gonna lose will go near somebody that could bite 'em. They just find another huntin' ground. But most of those other huntin' grounds are either far away or the huntin's no good. Sure, PKs are down, but all it means is that the guilds have managed to segregate the zones they go to. The tough guilds have claimed the best huntin' grounds as their turf. We can't fight in town, so nobody's lockin' horns that way. Still, even so, these invisible territories are takin' shape. That sounds like rankings' to me.He hadn't been drunk to begin with, but Shiroe felt the center of his head growing cool and clear. This was even worse than the deterioration of public order he'd been imagining. True, it wasn't the worst it could have been. PKs were down, apparently, and there were probably fewer quarrels as well.But still, somehow I don't like this. It makes me sickIt wasn't the least bit cool, Shiroe thought.A sense of revulsion churned inside him.I can't tell you, This or that is bad and that's what's wrong,'Marielle had said. For example, occupying hunting grounds might not be an admirable move, but was it wrong? Not necessarily. At the very least, there were no laws in this world, which meant no one could declare it was illegal.Patrolling a set area in order to gather items efficiently was a common method, and the more experience a player gained in an area, the more efficient they'd get. In other words, becoming an expert on an area wasn't a bad strategy at all.Not only that, but the big guilds were expending significant resources to implement that strategy: They were using their members to police their areas.Shiroe had no intention of criticizing that strategy without hearing their side of the story.If those without power were allowed to criticize that sort of thing, the result would be something like reverse discrimination by the weak, and so he understood just what Marielle meant when she said that no one in particular was wrong. No doubt this was just the way things went.However, even then, he couldn't quite reconcile himself to the idea.In this lawless other world, was it all right for those with power to dominate those without? If asked whether it was okay for the answer to that question to be this uncool, the answer was no. However, Shiroe knew that if the argument were taken to the extreme, his only grounds for saying no were his own preferences.Didn't the smaller guilds try to do anything about it?Well Yes. Over the past two weeks, for example, there was talk of the smaller guilds formin' a liaison committee, holdin' down some huntin' grounds and handlin' it that way. It didn't work out, though. Even with smaller guilds, there are slight differences in numbers, y'know? There were little differences of opinion that got people upset, and some couldn't keep from bein' selfish, and they fought, and things fell apart. Then several small guilds thought,If that's the way it's gonna be, and they merged with the big guilds or with each other.They did, hm?Shiroe thought.There was probably no help for that, either. It was easy to say hold on to hunting grounds, but whether a hunting ground was good or not changed depending on its level. No doubt there had been a nearly infinite number of ambitions regarding the hunting grounds each guild wanted to frequent, depending on the guild's personality, its number of members, and their levels.Working together and occupying a hunting ground would take a large number of people who were able to curb their egos and cooperate. The larger guilds might be able to exercise control, but in a gathering of smaller, weaker guilds, debates were bound to break out, and the group would fragment.Come to think of it, the influence of the frozen transport gates and the Fairy Ring trouble showed through in this issue as well. There were tens of thousands of zones on the Japanese server. With only about a thousand guilds, it was hard to imagine having a shortage of hunting grounds under ordinary circumstances.However, now that the intercity transport gates were out of order and the Fairy Ring timetables were a complete mystery, the Adventurers' movements were drastically restricted. Players with griffins, like Shiroe's group, were extremely rare. Now that players had to rely on horses or their own two feet, the number of hunting grounds that were within a day's journey of the town was more limited than it had been in the game.There were about fifty zones that fit that description near Akiba. As far as hunting grounds were concerned, there might be three hundred or so. If those were ranked by quality of experience points, proximity to the town, and apparent safety, there would naturally be a scramble for the popular spots.Since the Catastrophe, all zones had been made available for purchase. The zone prices were determined by factors beyond the Adventurers' comprehension, but at the very least, one of those conditions seemed to be area. This meant that zones with enough area to be hunting grounds would be too expensive to purchase, but there was no need to buy them: Any guild with enough members could use their human resources to occupy them.Plus. The Knights of the Black Sword are aimin' for ninety-one.Huh?Ninety-one. She probably meant the level. SinceHomesteading the Noospherehad been introduced, the level maximum had probably been released, so that in itself was no surprise. If the level maximum had been let go, it should be possible to grow past level 90, the previous maximum level.However, in order to do that, wouldn't it be necessary to hunt monsters that were at or above level 85? Shiroe had his doubts about whether anyone could skate on ice that thin in the real battles of this other world.The big guilds are tough as things stand, but you know they can't expect any new players to join up. So, it sounds like they think the issue of level height is gonna have a big effect on their power. That's behind the player acquisition wars, too. And y'know the Knights of the Black Sword have always aimed for the topShiroe nodded, acknowledging what Marielle had pointed out.Even in Akiba, the Knights of the Black Sword were a proud fighting guild, elitist to the point of seeming somewhat exclusionist. Not one of their members was under level 85. They didn't evenacceptmembers under level 85. A pureblood combat organization: That was the Knights of the Black Sword.The Knights of the Black Sword still have that level restriction on joinin' up. Of course they're still a prestigious major guild, too. The Crescent Moon League can't compare. But D.D.D. and its 1,500 members are keepin' the Knights on the ropes. After the Catastrophe, D.D.D. snapped up several smaller guilds. Well, with that level restriction on entry, the Knights of the Black Sword can't assimilate any smaller guilds. That's why they're workin' to get past level ninety, tryin' to beat out quantity with quality.But howThat was the heart of Shiroe's question. He understood the motive. He also understood the feeling and the strategy But was there any way to achieve it?By usin' EXP Pots.EXP PotsEXP Pots were a famous support item inElder Tales. They were potions that, when drunk, slightly raised a player's attack power and self-recovery abilities and nearly doubled the amount of experience points won in battle.Ordinarily, players couldn't get any experience points from monsters more than five levels weaker than they were. A secondary effect of the EXP Pots was that, although it wasn't much, players were able to gain a few experience points from monsters as much as seven levels below them.The effects of the potions only lasted two hours, but as a result, during the time they were effective, it was far easier to earn experience points.Although these support items were powerful, it wasn't necessary to go through a large-scale battle or jump any other hurdles to get them. In fact, almost all players had used them at one point or another.As a popular, long-running game,Elder Taleshad continued to raise its level maximum over the course of its run. That made it difficult for newbie players who'd just begun the game to catch up to those who'd been playing longer. As a result, the administrators had given various assists to new players, and the potions were one of them.In specific terms, players under level 30 automatically received one potion per day, free of charge. They were a present from the administrators, given in the spirit of helping players reach midrange levels quickly and enjoy the game.But those potions areThere's this guild called Hamelin. They advertised themselves as bein' out to rescue newbies, and after the Catastrophe, they attracted a lot of 'em. Everythin' was a mess then, and it's true that most weren't in a place where they could've helped newbs. We couldn't do anythin', either. But Hamelin They're sellin' off the EXP Pots they collect. Hamelin's gettin' rich, and the big guilds are workin' to boost their levels with those potions. I dunno who's in the wrong here; maybe nobody is. But that's the way things are goin', and there's nobody who can stop it3The heat of the banquet was gone completely.Even though it was early summer, the night wind was cool, and it blew strongly enough to set the tail of his tunic flapping.Cloud shadows skimmed across the ground. The moon was so bright it cast shadows, even now in the dead of night. It was past midnight, and Shiroe walked through the streets of Akiba as if he was chasing the contrast between moonlight and shadow.He didn't have a particular destination in mind.It was as if he were running from this mysterious, black emotion. Running from it or possibly trying to see it clearly. Even Shiroe didn't quite understand what he was feeling.He felt as if there was a huge, heavy mass in his chest. It was like the ocean at night, but nowhere near as refreshing; the mass was unidentifiable, so black and thick it could have been made of coal tar, and he failed to grasp it completely. He felt as if he had a huge amount of energy, but it wasn't focused on anything. It was simplythere.Although it'sonlythere.Shiroe knew it, too.There was nothing for him to unleash this emotion on.There probably was a villain somewhere, of course. The Hamelin guild certainly wasn't good. If he got the opportunity, Shiroe wouldn't mind fighting them the way he'd fought the Briganteers.Still, even if Hamelin was bad, they were just a small-time villain. Hamelin wasn't behind Akiba's current situation. All sorts of things that couldn't be helped had piled up, one on another, to make the atmosphere in Akiba what it was. That atmosphere was what he couldn't stand.Besides, Shiroe was well aware that, if he turned that feeling on Hamelin exclusively, he'd be punishing them for something that wasn't their doing.Shiroe walked, holding his breath.There was nothing cool about taking things out on other people.He didn't want to lash out at someone just to make himself feel better.That left Shiroe unable to vent the pitch-black emotion inside him. To Shiroe, taking it out on Hamelin would make him even worse than they were.But in that caseIn that case, he had nowhere to vent the feeling.So Hamelin was a small-time villain. Fine.Who was the main villain?Who was in the wrong?Was it the big fighting guilds, who must have had an inkling of how their EXP Pots were supplied, but were turning a blind eye to it in order to increase their power?Was it the newbies, who were fully aware they were being exploited, but had relaxed into the fact that they were weak and let the idea of being protected hold them captive?Was it the small and midsized guilds, who knew there was inequality between the guilds and had come together in order to do away with it, but had gotten distracted by their own interests, failed to cooperate, and could do nothing but squabble with one another?Was it all the players who knew that the atmosphere in the town was deteriorating but just stood by and watched, irresponsibly acting as if it had nothing to do with them?Yes. That was wrong.They were all wrong.Still, those wrongs were small ones; for the most part, the people in question were nothing more than foolish or self-centered. None of them was the mastermind that lurked on the far side of all that was wrong. There was no fairy-tale evil whose defeat would solve everything. This was nothing so simple or convenient.Everything was warping, little by little, and it was frustrating. That was all.Shiroe was there, too, in the midst of that distortion. Things were getting more and more uncomfortable in Akiba; a warped order was becoming established, and here he was, with a higher level and more equipment than the majority of Akiba's citizens, and what was he doing? Nothing. He had a good grasp of the situation, and still he let the moments slip by, letting things pass without comment.There was no difference between him and the unconcerned citizens of Akiba that he found so irritating. Add in the fact that friends of his were personally involved in the problem, and he might be even worse.Although Marielle had said it had failed, they'd managed to start discussing an alliance of guilds. Shiroe himself hadn't made it even that far.The fact that hehewas thinking that the smaller guilds who could do nothing but squabble with one another were in the wrong was so pathetic and laughable that he bit his lip almost hard enough to bite through.I'm uncool. I may be the least cool one here.At some point, he'd reached the crest of a bridge. An old, mossy stone bridge built in a European style spanned the Kanda River. When he leaned on the railing, the scent of water and the sound of ripples spread under the moonlight.Then what should he do?Without consciously putting that feeling to work, Shiroethought. He had the sort of personality that felt compelled tothinkwhen it encountered a problem, and it was also a job he'd grown used to, thanks to the Debauchery Tea Party.Story after story was set up and destroyed.Shiroe's right hand held the red card soldiers, and the black card soldiers were in his left. They crossed paths, sounding the notes of logic with spears of denial and swords of assent. Meaningless facts were weeded out, possibilities examined, and deductions flowed away down the dark river.The answer wouldn't come. How could it? He'd known from the start that there were no easy answers. Shiroe had been saddled with a handicap from the very beginning, one that was much too large. Not only that, it was a handicap he'd picked up by choice.Even thinking of it as a handicap is presumptuous. It's just a bill: what I get for having done nothing but run away. I'm a solo player because that's what I wanted to be.What wouldshehave said? Shiroe lifted his gaze from the surface of the river to the moon. The pure white moon illuminated the predawn streets of Akiba with a luster like that of a highly polished fossil.She was a dynamic person And she wasn't like me; she wasn't a coward, and she didn't drag regrets behind her.He could picture her laughing with her big mouth wide open as she resolved everything with the force of a typhoon. He could also picture her tossing Akiba aside because it felt like too much work.The most realistic was probably the scenario in which, after she'd rampaged around saying and doing everything she wanted, she dropped the situation into his lap as homework: You figure out a way to clean up the mess, Shiro! That's fine, right?! Got a problem with it? Of course you don't! You're one of the best, Shiro, so get things squared away ASAP!He called up the telechat function.Those two names on his friend list.Touya. Minori.The twin siblings who were probably in Hamelin.Right. He'd known as soon as he heard the story. Shiroe and the twins had gotten separated, and right now, they were probably caught up in this problem. All because Shiroe had left them on their own. Because, in the instant the Catastrophe occurred, he had prioritized meeting up with his old friend Naotsugu.He wanted to help them. He wanted to help, no matter what it took. However, this wasn't like when they'd gone to rescue Serara.For one thing, in the Crescent Moon League's case, Marielle had been there. When Shiroe had rescued Serara, he'd done so as Marielle's proxy. In other words, he'd been working for a client.Of course he'd wanted to save the girl, but he knew that somewhere he'd had an excuse available: I've accepted a request. All I'm doing is carrying it out.For another, although Shiroe wanted to rescue Touya and Minori now, even more than that, he wanted to do something abouteverything. He'd felt the same way during their escape from Susukino. Back then, although there hadn't been many players in the same situation as Serara, there must have been a few others. On some level, Shiroe had felt bad about abandoning the rest of those players and rescuing only her.However, there, too, he'd used the fact that his current mission was to rescue Serara as an excuse, closed his eyes to the rest, and returned to Akiba.If he used a similar excuse again this time, Shiroe was sure he'd lose all ability to fight.Rescue the twins, then, and abolish the tyranny of the big guilds, improve the atmosphere in Akiba and establish a new order Could Shiroe do something like that? He was a solo player, not affiliated with even a tiny guild, let alone one of the big guilds And so the answer was no, he couldn't.Not even affiliated with a guild, hm?The thought gave Shiroe a dull, penetrating pain.Now that he thought about it, Shiroe had always considered guilds to be something people belonged to. He'd felt they were nothing to do with him. Guilds had always been there, and whether that was good or bad, whether they suited him or nothe'd viewed them as an outsider.That attitude had been irresponsible.That was what he thought now.Wasn't that just like the riffraff who talked about the current atmosphere in Akiba as though it was nothing to do with them, even though they lived there?Up until now, Shiroe had never participated in a guild, and he'd never had responsibilities toward one. On top of that, he'd forced his own preferences and convenience on others The arrogance of that attitude staggered him.Guilds. Guilds, huh?Mew still dislike guilds, Shiroechi?Nyanta appeared from the shadow of a building; a few fragments of asphalt scattered, clicking, as he moved. He narrowed his quiet eyes in a smile, asking a question of Shiroe's monologue.!Shiroe was startled, but he shrugged his shoulders and moved over slightly, making room.No, I don't. Or at least, I don't think I do.Shiroe thought his hatred of guilds had probably stemmed from several unfortunate encounters. His relationship with the Crescent Moon League, both before and after the Catastrophe, had softened his obstinate prejudice.At this point, he could even understand that he'd been arrogant.However, on the other hand, he also remembered the PKs he'd met near Akiba and the gang of would-be bandits he'd encountered in Susukino. It was true that the guild system was easily corrupted. In the big guilds, where turf wars were the normal way of things, it was easy to imagine that morals would deteriorate.Yes, those aspects may exist.Nyanta responded to Shiroe's thoughts.On the other hand, though, incorruptible things aren't to be trusted. Birth, illness, old age, and death are the underlying principles of the mewniverse. Anything born will rot. It will suffer from disease and pain and will grow old and weak. Someday it will die. That's a painful thing, but if mew deny it, mew're denying birth as well. I know mew know this, Shiroechi. Perhaps it was particularly comfortable there,' but that's simply because we all tried to make it comfortable, and we did. Any treasure gained without cost or trouble is no treasure at all in the end.Yes. He was right.Everyone had put in effort as a matter of course, and the work had seemed so natural that they hadn't even realized it was work. Now, though, he knew how precious that had been and how much unseen effort the cat-eared friend beside him must have invested.It was the same sort of work Marielle did.How much support did the Crescent Moon League gain from her smile? Did it not give the guild a strength, one that not even a wealth of rare items nor gold coins could hope to match?That meant that if the town of Akiba had been comfortable until now, it had been because somebody somewhere was silently putting in invisible effort.Captain What should I do?At Shiroe's words, Nyanta looked up at the same moon.In the wind, his black ears flicked, then went still.Mew should do the most incredible thing possible.Incredible?Shiroe looked at Nyanta. His expression was as calm as ever, but in the moonlight, he looked even more mature than usual.Mew hold back too much, Shiroechi.He'd heard those words before, at some point, from Naotsugu.Shiroe chased their meaning, the meaning he had let slip past him back then.He thought seriously about what the words would have meant if they hadn't just been said lightly, in the moment.What they meant.What he'd done for Naotsugu.What he'd done for Akatsuki.In other words, those two had already knownI've been keeping them waiting?That's right.And they did wait?That's right.They stayed here with me, without going elsewhereThat's right.They were waiting for me to invite them tomyguild?Shiroe looked down. The lump in his chest, that black, ocean-like mass, rumbled and roared. The feeling he hadn't been able to vent roiled under the lid he'd clamped down onto it, coming near to boiling over.The sounds of the summer insects. The quiet noise of the water. The pale moonlight. Shiroe stood stock-still in the midst of it, clenching his fists, desperately suppressing everything.They'd had expectations for him.They'd bet on him.They'd waited for him.He had pondered and analyzed and worried, or he thought he had. Why hadn't he seen it? Had he really been that slow-witted? Even though his distrust of himself and his sense of inferiority were as high as a levee, the frozen restraints were being washed away by happiness, and familiarity, and trust.Will I be in time?Of course.Captain Nyanta. You join, too. It would make me really happy if you came with me. I need you there.As he delivered the invitation, Shiroe watched Nyanta steadily. Nyanta laughed a bit self-consciously and said, I'd like a good veranda.Sure, Shiroe agreed. We'll build you one. We'll get you a fine veranda.He wanted the most incredible thing. If he was allowed to want it. It came with a responsibility so huge that Shiroe couldn't support it by himself, but he did have a plan.If he had friends who would shoulder it with him, then4The dark room was damp.The uncarpeted floor was made of ancient concrete, and it absorbed heat like a sponge. This meant that even in early summer, at times like this, just before dawn, it was as cold as graveyard earth.Wrapped up tightly in her drab, dirty mantle, Minori turned over. She'd done it so many times already she'd lost track of how often.The night was long, and it felt endless.Maybe it was because her bed was much too hard and cold, or maybe it was her anxiety for the future. Her weary body wanted rest, but her sleep was shallow, and she woke easily at the smallest thing.Grinding pain was what she felt when her consciousness drifted up from the dark of night. All she could remember were indistinct dreams that grew vague and melted into the darkness, leaving only unease and regret.She spent most of the day cooped up in a tiny room, being forced to work as a Tailor, and her hands hurt as if the muscles were dead wood. Today, no matter how often she stroked them with her chilled fingers, the pain refused to recede.Her little brother Touya slept next to her, hugging his knees.Nearly twenty of her companions were asleep in this room.The guild Hamelin.It was a midsized guild that had advertised mutual aid for beginners.It was the guild Minori and Touya had joined.After the Catastrophe, the town had been engulfed in confusion and a feeling of claustrophobia. The sudden disaster had left everyone dazed; no one had known what to do. Minori thought the reason the town hadn't erupted into large-scale riots in those first few days was that most of the players hadn't known how to take what had just happened and had been hoping it might be some sort of elaborate joke.She and Touya had been the exact same way.For the first few hours, they hadn't known what had happened.For a few days after that, although they knew what had happened, they hadn't known why.The why was still unclear. What they finally did understand now was that those first few days had been terribly valuable and that, while they'd been distracted by the questionWhy did something like this happen?a question that had no answerthey'd lost that time forever.Her memories of the days that followed were hazy.She remembered being hungry. They hadn't really known how to eat. She'd bought several food items at the market and shared them with her brother Touya. When they tried to leave the town, they were attacked, and before they knew what was happening, they'd been stripped of everything they owned.By the time they remembered that Shiroe had advised them to leave all unnecessary items in a safe-deposit box at the bank whenever they left town, they were already penniless.She had heard that many players were contacting their acquaintances and working to gather information.However, she and Touya were newbie players, and they didn't have anyone to turn to. There was just one person they could think of, and they hesitated to contact him.They might have been able to contact him right after the Catastrophe. However, after spending several days in a stupor, they'd lost all their property, and in this world, they would have been far too much of a burden.Minori felt that she and Touya got along well.She'd heard it said that when they reached middle school, brothers and sisters often began to detest each other. The fastidiousness and sense of independence among their age group made siblings of a near age a target for strict exclusion. Her classmates said they couldn't even stand to look at their siblings.Maybe the rest of the world was like that, but not Minori and Touya. They were close.They never even wanted to fight, and the desire to help Touya was never far from Minori's mind.There was a reason for this.After an accident when they were small, Touya had lost the ability to walk. There was no problem with his legs themselves, but he had been left with nerve damage.It wasn't that Minori felt sorry for him, and thus didn't fight with him. The accident had been a terrible thing, and she sometimes wished she could take his place, but there was nothing she could do.Even to her, his older sister, Touya seemed to be cheerful and a hard worker. Even in his situation, he never got angry or irritated with the people around him. Life was challenging when a family member was disabled, and Touya was always trying to make things easier for their father and mother.She remembered that when they took him to and from the hospital twice a month, she and Touya had only talked about silly, trivial things. He'd joke around about manga and the Internet like any other middle school boy. From what the doctor said, Touya's exams were sometimes quite painful, but he never let it show.Sometimes Minori thought that Touya's childish ways of speaking and acting were really intentional, something he did out of consideration for others.Minori thought Touya was a fine little brother. Of course, as his older sister, she also thought he was a dummy who acted like a little kid, got carried away easily, and didn't think before he did things.Still, fundamentally, she could count on him. Even if his legs wouldn't work for him, and no matter what difficulties he ran into in the future, she was sure Touya would continue to be himself.Since that was the case, even if she'd only been born a few hours ahead of him, she had to fulfill her duty as his big sister. She was Touya's guardian. When Touya had to do something, she wanted to provide him with the necessary power.A kind of respectthe sort of feeling that doesn't grow easily between siblings, particularly when they are younghad made the two of them close.They'd started playingElder Talesfor a similar reason.After his exams, Touya was exhausted and unable to go out, and he'd shown an interest in an online RPG. The two of them were already tired of all the ordinary indoor games, and they'd wheedled their parents into letting them play the game on the condition that they didn't neglect their schoolwork.It was a world where Touya could run around as much as he wanted, without worrying about anyone else. Touya had been thrilled and enjoyed himself immensely, and the game had excited Minori as well; it was like nothing she'd ever experienced before.Almost immediately, they'd fallen head over heels forElder Tales.However, because of their situation, Minori was well aware that some things just couldn't be helped.Sometimes being a child was very hard.It meant it wasn't possible to make your thoughts and dreams come true just by doing your best.Minori was a child, and that made her just as much of a burden as Touya with his damaged legs. Sometimes being a childwasa handicap, and it put just as much weight on someone else.For example, even if she wanted to take Touya to the hospital herself, Minori couldn't drive. Since she was a middle schooler, this was only natural, but it meant that burden fell on her parents.Her abilities weren't enough. She couldn't take care of herself. She couldn't save anybody. She couldn't make her wishes come true the way she wanted to. All of these characteristics made the faces of people she loved cloud over. In other words, they made her a burden.Here, in the world of the game, having a low level made you so much of a burden that it was almost considered a sin.She'd seen Shiroe from a distance, just once, after the Catastrophe.The moment she'd seen the tall shadow with glasses, she'd known it was him.Yet she hadn't been able to call out to him.After all, next to that figure, grimy with blood and dust, were a heavily armored warrior, who seemed to be as much of a veteran as Shiroe, and a beautiful girl, like a fairy of the night.Shiroe had his own battles to fight.That thought kept Minori from approaching him. In this chaotic world, everyone had their hands full trying to protect themselves. How could she beg an acquaintance, someone who'd only played with them a handful of times, for help?When she closed her eyes, a menu opened behind her eyelids.Minori's friend list was short: Her brother Touya. A few of the newbie players she'd met at Hamelin. And Shiroe.Shiroe's name shone brightly, and she stroked it gently with an imaginary fingertip.To Minori, who'd lost nearly everything she could call her own, it was a treasure no one could take away.I wish we could have learned a little bit more from ShiroeShe pulled her mantle closer around her chilled body. Tonight's darkness seemed even deeper than usual. The dull pain in her chest kept her from sleep.Suddenly, a soft bell-like tone sounded in Minori's ear.She caught her breath sharply and then was startled at how loud it sounded there in the dark room.In her mind's eye, Shiroe's namethe one she'd just touchedwas pulsing.She was afraid she might have triggered the telechat function by mistake, but when she checked, that didn't seem to be the case. Shiroe was callingher. At this hour, just before dawn.The bell chimed again.Minori knew from experience that only she could hear it. Still, if she spoke, the Hamelin members might notice, and she risked waking her companions who slept nearby.Even so, it was hard for Minori to ignore the sound of the bell.Using her mental menu, she answered in a tiny, nearly inaudible voice. Hello?Um Good evening. This is Shiroe. Do you remember me?It wasn't just that the familiar voice was nostalgic. It seemed like a bridge to pleasant, distant days, and it made Minori's heart spill over.In her dark, damp bed, wrapped in a dirty woolen mantle, Minori sniffled quietly.That is Minori, isn't it?The flood of feelings that washed over her had made her nose begin to run a bit, and she didn't register Shiroe's words the first time. She couldn't reply. If she spoke, the others in the room might be suspicious. Even more than that, though, she didn't want Shiroe to hear her voice this way, cracked and damp with tears.In her heart, she nodded dozens of times, but aloud, Minori could only murmur yes in a small voice.The sound of breathing flowed between them. Minori struggled desperately to keep her unreasonable nose from snuffling; she was frightened that Shiroe would be disgusted with her, and she was so tense that the inside of her eyes seemed to flicker. Why had he called at this time of night? Why her? The questions raced around and around in her mind.Minori. Listen carefully. Cough very quietly; once for yes, twice for no. If I get something wrong or you have something to tell me, cough three times. Understand?At Shiroe's question, the realization hit Minori like a lightning bolt:He knows. Shiroe knows all about this.The situation she was in. The sort of place Hamelin was.She felt her ability to think, which had been half-numbed by her days of monotonous forced labor, coming back to life.I don't want to cause trouble for Shiroe. Not for himNow that she was a part of Hamelin, she understood full well.Beginners didn't have any systematic knowledge of thisElder Talesworld, even if they were ten levels higher than Minori and Touya.In this world, knowledge was a powerful weapon, and the lack of it was what kept newbies chained to their status as beginners. The common sense Shiroe had taught them as they played had become the strength she and Touya used to survive in this other world. Even in Hamelin's terrible environment, she and Touya were able to maneuver a bit better than the other newbies, and this was due in large part to the few scraps of knowledge Shiroe had shared with them.Shiroe was their benefactor. Minori had always thought so.She'd wanted him to be even more than that.If you understand, cough once.Minori scraped what little warmth she had together, moistening her throat ever so slightly.She gave one tiny cough.Her throat was drier and achier than she'd realized, and evenshethought the sound she managed to produce was pathetic.She was indebted to Shiroe. She had to repay that debt. As Minori thought this, she swallowed several times to wet her throat, listening carefully.You and Touya are in Hamelin, aren't you?One small cough.You're giving your EXP Potions to Hamelin.Another small cough.Are you all right?A nearly palpable silence filled the dark room.Having heard that much, Minori knew what Shiroe was asking and what he was trying to do.However, precisely because she understood, she felt a pain that nearly crushed her heart. Minori had no ideahowShiroe was planning to do it, but the method wasn't the problem. The problem was that Shiroe was very close to resolving to save Minori and Touya.What sort of price was he on the verge of paying in order to do something about their situation? In this other world, where everyone had to fight to survive, what would it end up costing him to save the two of them, burdens that they were?How much were they worth, really?There was only one answer to that question.We're all right. We're absolutely fine. They feed us every day, and my Tailoring level is going up, little by little. Touya and I can get by here. I'm sure Touya would say so, too. We're fineAs she admonished herself, her heart's voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else. In order to shut the door she longed for, the one that was dangerously close to opening, Minori gave one small cough. Just one.We're fine.Really? Shiroe asked again.His voice was gentle, and it reminded Minori of one of the times they'd played together.That time, Touya had charged at the enemy, she'd run in to provide backup, and their careless actions had ended up drawing enemy reinforcements.While Shiroe had used a sleeping spell to render the reinforcements powerless, Touya had fought desperately, and she'd recovered both of them. There were hordes of enemies, and their HP displays were always dyed red. She'd exhausted her MP in the excitement, and again and again she'd thought,We're finished! It's all over!but in the end, although they were limp and exhausted, all three of them had survived.She'd heard that inElder Taleslevel 90 was the highest level there was.If he'd died, he would have lost experience points as a penalty, but they'd made him wander the border between life and death right along with them, when they were barely level 10. She'd felt wretched and ashamed; she'd apologized desperately, and she'd hit Touya on the head with her fist and made him apologize, too.We can't let Shiroe damage his valuable experience points over the two of us,she had thought. But Shiroe had only laughed, looking almost like a little kid.I had fun. It's an adventure, you know? There are some skills you only learn when you're in trouble. I think you're a little too proper, Minori. You did have fun, didn't you? I liked it.His voice had been kind, and that kindness had saved Minori. She could sense the same kindness now, across the telechat's invisible line.And so she coughed, just once more.We're fine.If she did that, then the next time she met Shiroe, she might be able to smile and talk with him. Of course, she'd need a bit more time. Right now, she was filthy, and she looked like a street urchin. She hadn't even bathed. It was so bad she felt she couldn't even call herself a girl at this point.There was a small, smoldering pain deep in her chest, but it had to be better than causing trouble for Shiroe. Even Minori was having a hard time believing that logic anymore, but she forced herself to listen to it.All right. You're fine; I understand. In that case, let's play together again. I'd really like to. It was fun. So justhang on for a little while.!!But that meant he didn't understand at all!Or, no, it might be because hedidunderstand everythingbut even so.Conflicting thoughts clashed in Minori's chest, turning into hot tears deep in her nose and forcing their way up. Why was Shiroe so stubborn? And why did he say such kind things?Frustration that her own attempt to be considerate hadn't been understood; shame, confusion, guilt at having pulled him in Sadness. And in equal measure to those negative emotions: happiness, kindness, joy, hopeand trust in Shiroe.Those two contrary sets of emotions mixed, churning Minori's heart like a washing machine. She had to say something. She just didn't know what to say.If she was going to stop Shiroe, this was her last chance.She had to cough. How many times? Once for save us? Twice for don't? In the midst of tears she'd been unable to hold back, Minori coughed once. Then she coughed two more times.What's wrong? Is there something you want to say?I coughed three times. I No, I don't want to say anythingShiroe isn't He isn't our mom or dad. He's nice, but that doesn't give us the right to impose! We'd only drag him down. There's no reason for him to carry us!But she couldn't say the words.In a musty, silent room in Hamelin's guildhall, Minori tried desperately to keep her breathing, which sounded nearly asthmatic, from echoing.I said to cough three times if there was something you wanted to say, didn't I? Okay. I'll hurry, so I can hear what it is. I've already made up my mind, though. I'll do what I can. I told you when Touya was with us, remember? A vanguard that can't trust their rear guard will pay for that crime with their lives. The same goes for a rear guard that can't trust their vanguard.' So, when you say you're okay, I believe you. Believe in me, too. I'll come to help you, I promise.With the small sound of a severed connection, the telechat cut off.Minori curled inward, hugging herself.Her nose wouldn't stop running, and it was all Shiroe's fault for being selfish and not understanding. Emotions she couldn't put into words overflowed, and it felt as if there was a storm inside her ears; she didn't understand herself.Still, something warm and certain, something that hadn't been there an hour ago, had begun to grow inside her.5When Henrietta opened the door, she saw that all the other participants were there already.It had been two days since their raucous celebration, and after a day spent cleaning, the Crescent Moon League guildhall had regained its former calm.What's happened? Your call was so suddenC'mon, Henrietta. Have a seat.Marielle, Henrietta's guild master, motioned for her to sit.The Crescent Moon League conference roomwhich, until yesterday, had been littered with bottles and the leftovers from their feastwas now neat and tidy, and the air felt fresh.Four men and women were seated at the enormous table.The Crescent Moon League was represented by its guild master, Marielle; by Henrietta, who was in charge of the accounts; and by Shouryuu, who handled combat and hunting. For all practical purposes, these three led the Crescent Moon League.Shiroe sat facing them.Oh Master Shiroe.Mr. Shiroe says he has something he wants to discuss with us. Shouryuu, who was younger, bowed to Shiroe as he spoke.We dunno what the somethin' is yet, either.Marielle and Shouryuu's words aside, Shiroe's expression was hard. His eyes had a tendency to seem sharpor rather, he had a habit of staringbut even so, there was a quiet forcefulness about him today. His determination seemed so strong that those endearing round glasses failed to soften the effect.HmHenrietta filed that look away for later.Even under ordinary circumstances, Shiroe was a reliable young man. However, this Shiroe seemed like another person entirely. Henrietta thought it might not do to lump them together.Thank you for your time. I'm the one who called this meeting today. First, I want to thank you for the banquet two days ago. Both you, Mari, and everyone at the Crescent Moon League. Thank you very much.At Shiroe's words, Marielle waved her hands wildly.Don't you worry about that! It was nothin' to write home about, really!Shouryuu also waved his hands, denying any need for gratitude. The banquet had looked impressive, and the food had been superb, but there hadn't been much actual expense.Above all else, the Crescent Moon League members had also enjoyed themselves immensely. The celebration had really been for them as well. The idea that they'd have to formally express their thanks someday was already being discussed within the guild.No, no, it's perfectly fine. After all, I got to play with darling Akatsuki to my heart's content.Remembering Akatsuki's adorable reactions, Henrietta smiled dreamily. Never mind the fact that Akatsuki herself had had tears in her eyes.That aside, then, I'm here on different business today. It's the opposite of last time: I've come to ask for your help.My, my. That's Hm.Henrietta watched Shiroe from behind her smart, rimless spectacles.She couldn't deny that his request was somewhat unexpected.From what she had seen, Shiroe was a strong player with a compassionate personality. He wasn't the type who would hesitate to help an acquaintance in trouble The way he had, as ashamed as she was to admit it, helped the Crescent Moon League with Serara.On that expedition, Shiroe and his friends had been a fantastic proxy for the Crescent Moon League's rescue party. No doubt they'd done dozens of times better than Henrietta and the others could have. If he felt he'd be useful and could do something well, Shiroe wouldn't hesitate to lend a hand.But if it was the other way around?To Henrietta, in addition to being sensible and compassionate, Shiroe seemed like an introspective and veryclumsy young man. He was far worse at accepting help from others than he was at helping them.And now Shiroe was asking for help.What sort of request could it be?Of course Henrietta had no intention of using Shiroe's reluctance to ask for help to her advantage and bargaining down their debt of gratitude. No doubt the thought was even further from Marielle's mind. However, she really did find it odd that the man himself would clearly state that he wanted their help.Ask for anything, Mr. Shiroe!Yes, he's right. The Crescent Moon League is in your debt, Master Shiroe.Matching her words to Shouryuu's, Henrietta gave a welcoming response of her own. Under the circumstances, she had to: The Crescent Moon League really did owe Shiroe a great debt.However, at the same time, Henrietta was concerned about Marielle. Ever since Henrietta had entered the room, Marielle had looked rather tense.Of course, she was acting friendly on the surface, and Henrietta didn't have the least suspicion that her consideration or kindness would falter. She'd been friends with Marielle for a long time. She knew full well that Marielle could never dislike Shiroe.In that case, though, what was the gravity in Marielle's expression?Does Mari know what Master Shiroe intends to ask?Shiroe didn't smile at Henrietta and Shouryuu's words. He pushed his glasses up with a finger and went straight to the heart of the matter.Two young players of my acquaintance arebeing detained by, or forced to be part of, a certain guild. I want to help them.Shouryuu nodded, responding to Shiroe's words.It's that sort of thing, is it? You'd just have to cancel their guild contracts, wouldn't you? Do you want us to set up a diversion, so you can complete the procedures for removing them from the guild? That's easy. Oh. Or did you mean the other thing? Did you want us to take care of them after you've gotten them out? To leave them with the Crescent Moon League? Of course, they're welcome here. The more the merrier; we'd love it.Shouryuu's reply was cheerful.However, at his words, Marielle's face grew even tenser.I shouldn't think that's it. No doubt Master Shiroe could save those two without any assistance from us. He wants our cooperation badly enough to ask for it formally. What sort of request could it be?It looks as though this unsavory guild is collecting new players and extorting EXP Potions from them. They're most likely selling them off to bring in operating funds. I don't think that in itself is unforgivable.Not at this point, at least. If asked whether I like it, though, I'd have to say that I don't.As he continued, Shiroe's tone was mild, but Shouryuu had frozen.Now, when it was too late, he'd finally registered what was being said.That guild Is it Hamelin by any chance? You're right; they certainly aren't avery good establishment. Not good at all. However, they have major guilds backing themThe doubt Henrietta expressed was only natural. If the guild in question was Hamelin, it numbered Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword among its customers. Both guilds were powerful in Akiba. In terms of combat guilds, they were in the top five.Yes, that's right. I intend to have them leave.Shiroe said it quite plainly.A heavy silence filled the conference room.Marielle gave a small sigh.So Mari did know, or she guessedThat would certainly explain the tension in her expression.H-have them leave? Erm Do you mean you want to destroy them? That's Really? In any case, is it even possible to force a whole guild out? Even if you player killed them right and left, well, you'd probably damage their pride, but I don't know if you could destroy the entire guildShouryuu's voice was timid.Henrietta had that same doubt.The only ways to disband a guild were for the guild leader to decide to disband it or for all its members to leave. That was how the system worked.It was possible to kill player characters through PKs. However, this world took afterElder Tales: It was gamelike. Here, where resurrection from death happened automatically, killing couldn't do any serious damage. It might be possible to affect the guild members' morale or property, but it wouldn't influence the continued existence of the actual guild.That meant that Shouryuu's doubtIs it even possible to force a whole guild out?was correct. Logically speaking, it wouldn't be possible to bring that about through external interference.It might be possible for a huge guild to use its abundant resources as bait to lure in all the members of a smaller guild, crushing that guild as a result. She'd heard of similar strategies around Akiba.However, even if one poured resources into bribes and fund provision, there was no guarantee that the target guild would collapse. If the Crescent Moon League were targeted by that sort of acquisition maneuver, even if most of the members were lured away, as long as Marielle stayed there and kept fighting by herself, the Crescent Moon League would still exist as far as the system was concerned.Destroying a guild was that difficult and that hard to pull off. It wasn't a matter of picking a target and crushing them. If that had been possible, the current situation in Akiba would have been much different.In any case, these wordsDestroy that guild, make them leavewere the sort of things players yelled as insults or when picking a fight. They were a type of threat, not a genuine plan.Shouryuu wondered if he should take Shiroe's words as an expression of enthusiasm, a sort of goal. A declaration along the lines of I'm gonna take you down!No, I mean it literally. I'm going to have them leave Akiba.But Shiroe denied Shouryuu's idea point-blank.His voice, nearly devoid of emotion, was so calm it was almost cold. Henrietta sneaked a glance at Shiroe's expression. If she'd seen anger there, or irritation, or determination, Henrietta probably wouldn't have felt so convinced.However, the only expression on Shiroe's face was a smile so faint it might not have been there at all. Although technically a smile, it only curled the corners of his mouth slightly, and it had nothing to do with amusement or delight. It was a hunter's expression.Shiroe's mind was already made up to the point where determination was unnecessary.Ah Master ShiroeHe was going to do it.That was what Henrietta thought right then.She also thought it would be pointless to try to stop him. They probably wouldn't be able to overturn Shiroe's resolution.Henrietta's father was a professional stockbroker, and she remembered him wearing a similar expression. He wore it when he took on a big gamble or when he was selling desperately in the midst of a panic that rocked the market. He wouldn't come home for days on end, and when he did come home, it was only to take a quick nap and a shower before he bolted out the door again, and there, in the entry hall, before dawn, he'd smile this same smile. A tiger's smile.At the same time, Henrietta could also understand Marielle's distress.Hamelin was backed by several big guilds. Silver Sword and the Knights of the Black Sword, its customers, were trying to use the increase in experience points from the EXP Pots to transcend level 90. It was a reckless method of growth that only A-class guilds with abundant capital could pull off, but it certainly might be possible to reach the next level that way.From an ethical perspective, extorting EXP Pots from beginners and selling them off was a crooked move. It repulsed Henrietta, and if someone were to suggest doing something similar at the Crescent Moon League, she'd oppose it with everything she had.However, she couldn't categorically declare that it was an unforgivable crime.Even if there had been heavy mental pressure or some variety of intimidation, the beginners had joined the guild of their own accord, and they were staying there. Since that was the case, the extortion and reselling didn't violate the rules of the game. And, in this other world, that meant it wasn't illegal.Laws Laws, hm? They really are more ephemeral than a mirage on a summer morning. It's difficult to tell whether they're there or not. BesidesThere were feasibility issues as well.Say that actlegal or illegalwas evil. Were there any people or organizations in Akiba who could take them to task over it? The answer was no.The influence of the big guilds was vast, and no player was quixotic enough to go against them when there was no particular merit in doing so. The members of the big guilds were already using their guilds' names to win preferential use of all the town's facilities. Not only that, but their domineering, unkind treatment of players who belonged to smaller guilds was growing conspicuous.Under the circumstances, sympathizing with Shiroe's views would mean making enemies of the big guilds. Marielle's Crescent Moon League might be small, but it was an organization, and she was its leader. Henrietta was beginning to understand what her severe expression meant.Leaving aside the question of what was just, no one had the power, authority, or muscle to serve that justice. That made justice no more than pie in the sky. As a result, it didn't matter whether it existed or not: Nobody even cared. That was the unvarnished truth of the current Akiba.MariHenrietta bit her lip.She was indebted to Shiroe. She also liked him as an individual.He was, with the qualifier among men without a shred of cuteness about them, a young man she wouldn't mind having as a close friend. However, even so, there were some requests she couldn't agree to.She probably should have stopped Shiroe's dangerous rampage with a heartfelt warning.Still, when she saw that fearless resolution, the words wouldn't come.Shiroe was normally so introspective that it made him look reserved. This was the first time she'd seen him show fighting spirit. Was it all right for someone like her to interfere with it? When she asked herself that question, there was no way she could be confident in her answer.Watching Henrietta falter this way out of the corner of her eye, Marielle hesitated several times, then opened her mouth.Kiddo Look, I know how you feel. I really do, but I No, y'see, we'reHer reply was probably meant to be an apology. She wasn't going to make Henrietta and Shouryuu, the guild's executives, do it. As the guild's leader, she was going to turn Shiroe's request down herself.Henrietta knew that Marielle had been prepared for Shiroe to be displeased, or even to hate her, when she began to speak.However, Shiroe interrupted her firmly.Mari. I'm sorry, but let me finish. I'm halfway through now. This is still only half. Hamelin is just a bonus. On its own, it's nowhere near enough. It's far too minor. A little thing like that is just a reward on the way. At this point, let me be blunt: I don't like the town's current atmosphere. It's petty and uncool and ugly.As the others sat dumbfounded, Shiroe kept speaking, as though he alone had been convinced of everything from the start.And so I'm going to clean up Akiba. Hamelin is just a side benefit. I'm helping Minori and Touya because they're my friends, but even thatit's secondary. There are a lot of other things that we need to do. We can't waste time on this.Shouryuu, Henrietta, and even Marielle were as still as statues. Shiroe continued talking regardless.When did being a small guild become something bad, something that meant you had to creep and hide? Yes, Susukino was rotten. With only two thousand people, it's no wonder the strong guilds swaggered around as if they owned it. But Akiba's our hometown. It's the main base for more than half the players on the Japanese server. The server's biggest town. Akiba, uncool, with a nasty, uncomfortable atmosphere, and everyone looking down as they walk Why should it be like that? That makes it seem as though we were all born to become losers. Occupying hunting grounds, the big guilds' rapid advances, discord between rivals: I'd never say those things are bad, but I can't stand to watch myself being strangled like this. Is any of it worth making newbies cry? We've been tossed into another world, and we have to work together to survive; is it worth kicking that whole situation to the curb? Sure, there are thirty thousand of us, but there areonlythirty thousand of us. Aren't we underestimating it?We're not taking this other world seriously. We're not desperate enough.They had no words.It was an outrageous speech.From the fact that Mariellenot to mention Henrietta and Shouryuuwas frozen, she certainly hadn't seen this coming.Rescuing friends they could understand. However, crushing a whole guild to do it was already over the top. When, above and beyond that, the talk turned to changing the current trends and situation, it sailed past over the top and left the realm of sanity entirely.However, when they heard what he had to say, what shook them more than the substance of his words was Shiroe's voice. It was a calm voice, with no tension or excitement about it, but it held hidden steel. There was a sharpness to it that would cut on contact.Cautiously, Henrietta let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.She'd misjudged him, this young man called Shiroe. She'd thought he was strong and kind, but introspective and shy. She'd been wrong. The essential part of this youth was terribly pure. He was single-minded regarding goals, and both his thoughts and methods were straightforward. He was efficient, and there was no mercy in him.Fight and take it.This young man was faithful to that simple principle. He might hesitate for a long time before he made up his mind. The blade might be dulled. But when he decided to do something, he would do it.MissMari?At Shouryuu's query, Marielle bit her lip. Even the act of crushing one guild would place a huge burden on the Crescent Moon League, and the risk would be great. By that reckoning, she wouldn't be able to agree to Shiroe's proposal.But Shiroe had said he planned to change the whole town. That meant if they won this particular battle, the return would skyrocket.That was the reason for Marielle's hesitation. In this case, the return would be a rise in status for the smaller guilds. However, that wasn't all.It was also a problem of the soul.We'rePlease help me.For the first time, Shiroe bowed his head.Master Shiroe? Where have your friends gone?Henrietta spoke up in an attempt to rescue Marielle, who was searching for the right words. By all rights, Naotsugu and Akatsuki could have been here as well.They're investigating and making preparations. I apologize for the late introduction: I've formed a guild, with myself as guild master. Its name is Log Horizon, meaning the horizon of all we've documented. Its members are Naotsugu, Akatsuki, Nyanta, and myself, and this mission will be its first operation.Youmade yourself a guild.Yes. I'm sorry; after you invited us to yoursNo, noMarielle shook her head. The gesture was almost childlike.No, that's nothin' to apologize for. Well, well. Kiddo Congratulations. You made yourself a guild.Youdid, kiddo. You made a home for yourself.Marielle smiled. There were tiny teardrops at the corners of her eyes.Shiroe, who'd always avoided joining a guild, had created a place for himself to belong. Henrietta couldn't accurately gauge the implications, but she understood what Marielle's tears meant. Henrietta's friend, with her simple, genuine tendencies, was wishing Shiroe the best from the bottom of her heart.Guild master. Would it be okay if we at least heard him out? I'm interested. We do a lot around town, and I've felt the bad atmosphere Mr. Shiroe mentioned. I was worried Akiba might stay this way forever. It's been bothering me for a long time.Shouryuu voiced his opinion briefly.As the Crescent Moon League's combat team leader, he understood the circumstances, too. He knew he might make trouble for Marielle if he stuck his oar in unnecessarily. Still, in that sense, it spoke to how obviously torn Marielle herself was between wanting to help and wanting to protect the guild.Henrietta put in a few words of her own.Yes, whether we can help or not will depend on the method. You know we couldn't commit ourselves to a plan with no real prospects, Master Shiroe.Beaten to the punch by her two subordinates, Mariellewho must have felt that she should be the one to take the brunt of any unpleasantnessseemed a bit embarrassed. Almost immediately, though, she added her own encouragement. Go on, kiddo. Talk.At those words, Shiroe seemed to take half a moment to put his thoughts in order. Then, abruptly, he cut to the chase.We need capital. Five million gold coins, to start.That's an impossible sum! Henrietta shrieked. As the person in charge of the Crescent Moon League's vault, she had a pretty accurate grasp of the guild's assets.The funds in the Crescent Moon League's guild account came to about sixty thousand gold coins. If they sold off most of their stored items, they could probably pull together as much as 100,000 coins. If the individual property of each and every guild member was sold, they might be able to reach 500,000.But that was the limit. Even if they poured in all their members' assets, they couldn't scrape together more than 500,000 coins. Henrietta, a level-90 player, had about twenty thousand to her name. Considering the fact that an individual with fifty thousand was quite wealthy, five million gold coins was an astronomical amount.How're we supposed to pull together a fortune like that?! I know I shouldn't be sayin' stuff like this myself, but we're We're a tiny guild, y'know?M-m-money?!As expected, Marielle and Shouryuu groaned in despair.If it was a question of combat power or labor, they could have given it their best effort. However, supplying funds probably struck them as an impossible demand from the start.What do you think, Miss Henrietta?Me?In the old world, you're an accountant with a master's in Management Studies, correct? I think it's possible. Everyone's still underestimating things in this world, you see. It isn't that big a deal. All we have to do is pull it in. Money is just the first step. It's nowhere near the biggest obstacle.Pull it in?Henrietta's consciousness expanded.Ripples spread out from Shiroe's words.We're not taking this other world seriously. We're underestimating it.Why would Shiroe say a thing like that? What did he think they were underestimating? This was the world ofElder Tales. Yes, it was another world, but there was also no world they knew better.You don't need to think too deeply about what sort of capital it is or who it might belong to. The other guys have no intention of following the rules, either. Am I wrong? This isa place with no rules.There's no need to voluntarily straitjacket ourselves.In a way, it was absurd.However, for that reason alone, Henrietta understood. She was probably the only one who did. Right now, she and Shiroe were the only ones in the room.I'm the only one who's really hearing Shiroe.Henrietta was inexplicably sure of it. As that was the case, she needed to weigh decisions within that territory in Marielle's place.What Shiroe was saying was:Make rules that will attract moneyHenrietta felt dizzy. Shiroe had practically said they'd strike down all who opposed them. In other words, he was telling them totakeit.The wordtakewasn't limited to violence. Not only that, there was no need to act illegally or use atrocious methods. Even when the world was operating in perfect legality, this taking happened on a daily basis. Hadn't Henrietta felt the world was that sort of place when she watched her father?On the contrary, she knew instinctively that it would be foolish to invite ill will. Illegal methods and methods that left mental discord in their wake were a card to be played only as a last resort, when there were no other options. Preferably, their rules would have people cheerfully handing them their money.I think wecan.Henrietta nodded.We can collect that capital.Huh?What?!Henrietta answered Marielle and Shouryuu's startled cries with thoughts that were still a bit vague. She was currently making fine mental corrections to the plot she'd hit upon, fleshing it out.Pulling together five million coins won't be the end, will it? What do you plan to do after that?If Henrietta's instincts were correct, the young man in front of her had something truly stupendous in mind.The feeling she was picking up from him was that of someone who'd burn down a house to get rid of the rats or buy up a garment manufacturer because he wanted a T-shirt.No matter how preposterous a road it was, if that was the only road that led to his goal, Shiroe would take it.Collecting five million is the first step. The hardest part comes after that. It'severyone's good will and hope. If many of the guilds that live here in Akiba don't care what the town turns into, then we'll lose. However, if that happens, there was no help for it. If that proves to be the case, I'll feel no regret over losing that sort of town. That said, I believe it won't. There must be more players who like Akiba than players who hate it. It's a bit late for me to say this now, but I have no intention of demanding your cooperation as payment for Serara's rescue. I came to you, the Crescent Moon League, because I need your help. I came because there are things I want youMari, and Miss Henrietta, and Shouryuuto do. I'll ask again: Please help me.Shiroe bowed his head deeply.Shouryuu gave a small nod. On seeing it, Marielle examined Henrietta's expression.Shiroe was serious. He seriously thought this could be done, and he seriously intended to try. That was what had made Shouryuu want to hear the rest of his idea and what had made Marielle hesitate to make a decision.This young man was capable of risking himself for somebody else. However, wasn't it harder for him to say, Please help me, than it was to put himself on the line?Henrietta thought that will was noble.If Shiroe was serious, then even if his opponent was all of Akiba, and even if the strategy was outrageous, he might be able to find a way to win.Henrietta's severe financial executive's instincts were telling her so in a whisper.Yes, Mari. Do as you please.I, uh The Crescent Moon LeagueMarielle squeezed her hands into fists, answering Shiroe with the expression of a guild master.The Crescent Moon League will cooperate with your plan, kiddo. We'd like this town to shape up, too. It feels like, if this keeps up, we'll end up losing somethin' critical. B-but listen We aren't a real prosperous outfit, so Don't go pullin' a midnight disappearin' act on us, all right? Even then, though, I guess we'd have to help. If we just keep on pretendin' we don't see, we'll rot away inside; that's a problem of the soul, after all. So, we'll take that risk, too. C'mon, kiddo. Tell us how. If there was somethin' we could do and we didn't, I think we'd regret it forever.