Ichiro watched him go, then nodded in approval. “He looks like a fine chef. I look forward to his curry, as well.”

“You like provoking people, don’t you?” Azami asked.

“It is not that I like it. But I will acknowledge that I so rarely find people who rise to my challenges that, in my delight, I often find myself saying provoking things,” Ichiro said gleefully, taking a drink of the lemon water set in front of him.

King Kirihito. Edward. Iris. They were all that way. Even Sakurako Ogi, though servile to him, often showed an indomitable strength that he enjoyed, as well. The way she would easily clean up the unreasonable amount of work Ichiro requested of her, then take a break with a triumphant expression, was somehow both invigorating and astonishing.

He wondered if they were having fun right now. It wasn’t impossible that they might get into trouble, given how Iris Brand (or rather, Ichiro Tsuwabuki) had been at the center of quite a bit of controversy as of late. Still, he wasn’t terribly worried. Kirschwasser could probably handle it.

“You’re a rather unusual person,” Azami said.

“I suppose I am.” Ichiro recognized that his personality was very different from that of the average person.

“Your actions in the game would suggest that you enjoy making enemies,” she added.

“That’s a misleading way of putting it,” Ichiro frowned. “But the reasoning is similar to what I explained, so I’ll admit that it’s true in a certain sense. It’s not a bad thing to have rivals in one’s life.”

“Even if you beat those rivals with less-than-mature methods?” she asked.

“Whether or not a method is immature, and whether or not it is wrong to use it, is a subjective matter, so I shall not comment. I merely believe that I should use everything at my disposal, and that is true all the more when it comes to things I want to do.”

His long-winded explanation would usually cause Iris to say something like, “Young heir, you’re gross.” But his attempts to be as careful and fair as possible in his statements were just an attempt to prevent misunderstanding.

“That’s why you buy so many microtransactions?” Azami asked. “Of course, my company is very grateful for it...”

“Well, yes,” Ichiro said. “My money is an extension of my talents, after all. Seeing how far I can take it in an online game bound by numerical restrictions is, to be honest, quite a refreshing way of enjoying things.”

Azami Nono’s expression was mixed. NaroFan had earned nicknames like “Crap Game Online” for its poor game balance. But as a creator, she clearly wasn’t trying to upset people, so it was possible that Ichiro’s “paying to win” playstyle was frustrating to her, too.

Noting her expression, Ichiro decided to change the subject. “I tried to ask you this at Megumi’s party, but...”

“Yes?”

“The rock I ate at the Volgund Volcanoes. I never heard your answer for that.”

“Oh...” Azami Nono smiled wryly.

Once, Ichiro had picked up a rock he found in one of the game’s fields and tried to put it in his mouth. He hadn’t been able to swallow it, but the taste and texture had seemed entirely real. Considering the limitations on the data the servers could store, it was hard to believe that every single object in the game could have data individually programmed into it. Thus, he was curious.

Azami, seeming to prefer this line of discussion, immediately relaxed and answered him. “There are two systems: the recognition program and the collective intelligence system. If I may, Ichiro, have you read my thesis?”

“I have,” Ichiro said. “The recognition program, eh? I remember it mentioning something like that. The collective intelligence system refers to data analysis through machine learning algorithms and statistics, yes?”

“That’s right.”

In other words, most things in the game environment weren’t programmed in advance. The ability to send detailed data directly to the player about whatever they were focusing attention on — the feeling of “this is like this” — came from the recognition system. The collective intelligence system used various crowdsourced information to bolster that ability. The Miraive Gear’s brainwave scanner could collect such recognitions from all players and unify them, in order to compile data regarding an average worldview.

The taste and texture of the rock that Ichiro had tried hadn’t been programmed into quantum signals by the designers; it had been the result of an average of unconscious recognitions taken from many players. A unified feeling of “I bet it tastes and feels like that.” Of course, the average might also have incorporated the thoughts of some people who really had tried eating rocks before... But regardless, the collective intelligence let people seamlessly experience all kinds of things the programmers had never put their hands on.

These two systems worked together to enhance Narrow Fantasy Online’s larger setting while reducing the burden on the server significantly.

“I see,” Ichiro said.

“We also have a council system run by AI, known as the Ten Sages.”

Ichiro offered an expression of mild, but genuine, interest, which encouraged Azami to continue.

“They’re learning artificial intelligences I developed in my time at MIT. Rosemary, Coriander, Cicely, Lemon Balm... I let them handle the maintenance duties.”

“All names of herbs?” Ichiro asked.

“It’s a bad pun — sages, sages...” Azami gave a shy laugh. “The collective intelligence system can also collect data on what players want, and what they’re not happy about. They amass it all together, then debate whether it needs attention or not. Of course, if it’s something the devs should be involved in, we’re the ones who make the final judgment. We’ll also review the issue directly if the Ten Sages Council can’t reach a particular majority either way.”

This was the first time Ichiro had ever heard of artificial intelligence running a game. But then, Azami’s major had been quantum physics, the foundation for quantum computers, so perhaps it was only natural that she would create such a thing.

“That reminds me,” Azami said with sudden inspiration. “One of the Ten Sages, Rosemary, has shown interest in you.”

“An AI, interested in me?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s the learning AI I mentioned before... She has an algorithm to seek out collected intelligence, which allows her to have some degree of interest, and personal judgment. This is the first time she’s taken interest in an individual, though. I guess your actions in the game have been ‘interesting’ to her.”

“Hmm...” Ichiro said.

It was around that time that the store’s owner came out of the kitchen, carrying two dishes of curry rice from which wafted an absolutely heavenly smell. There was still an indomitable smile on the man’s stern, attractive face, but compared to before, there was a strange sense of weariness, which was in turn overshadowed by a proud aura of achievement. He must have been fighting a grand battle that the two of them would never know.

“Here you are.” After setting the curry dishes on the counter, the chef went back into the kitchen.

“Well, it does look quite delicious,” said Ichiro.

“I’ve been to this store a few times before, but I’ve never had this curry...” Azami murmured.

“He did say it was his secret weapon.” Ichiro picked up his spoon and returned to the previous subject. “Now, about this ‘Rosemary’ AI...”

“Oh, are you interested?” she asked.

“Yes, a bit.” Ichiro was the kind of person who found the progress of science very exciting.

What form would “interest” take in the artificial intelligence that Azami Nono had developed? How flexible were its thought patterns? That one simple statement had filled him with so much curiosity.

“Then after we get back to the company, let’s have a ‘talk’ with her,” said Azami.

“Are you sure that’s all right?”

“Yes, I think it’s good for Rosemary to have new experiences.”

A conversation with an artificial intelligence would be a new frontier, even for Ichiro. Recently, bot technology had produced various top-down conversation programs and chatbots, and most of those could be interacted with on the internet via SNS. But he’d never had a conversation with a “true AI” with both intelligence and reasoning ability.

“I’d be happy to join you, then,” Ichiro said. The thought of experiencing the unknown caused his heart to leap. Ichiro happily dug a spoon into his curry.

It was quite delicious, as befitting the owner’s “secret weapon.”

It was around that time that the beach started growing less crowded, perhaps due to much of the player base logging out for lunch. As the seaside population grew sparse, Iris and Felicia started feeling playful again and decided to spend some time with a beach ball.

“Face my fireball miracle pitch!” Felicia shouted as she jumped high, arched her entire body back, and struck the ball with one hand, sending it flying with amazing speed. Her impressive “Throwing” Skill — grinded to high levels on the advice of a friend — amplified her serve appropriately, causing her so-called “fireball miracle pitch” to indeed take on a violent spin and a wreathed-by-fire visual (though with no corresponding elemental property attached). “Hydrooo Blasteeeeer!”

“Eek!” Iris just barely dodged it. Spinning like a gyroball, the “fireball miracle pitch” smashed into the sand at her feet, and continued spinning even as it dug its way deeper, spraying fine particles all over the surrounding area.

Iris’s terror displayed itself in a game-amplified cold sweat visual as she gazed upon what Felicia’s ball had wrought.

“Felicia! I’m starting to think beach volleyball between a physical class and a spellcaster class may have a fatal flaw!” she cried.

“I’m starting to think you’re right!” Felicia agreed.

i

“And the ball being the property of one of the players would appear to make things even more unfair!”

“I’m starting to think you’re right!”

“By the way, what is ‘Hydro Blaster’?”

“It’s my miracle pitch in development,” Felicia said. “My coach named it.”

Just what kind of miracle pitch was Felicia’s softball coach trying to develop? Surely it wasn’t meant to spin at high velocity, get wreathed in flames, and dig a hole into the ground. Iris had serious doubts about this game serving as — as Felicia’s coach had apparently put it — “miracle pitch image training.”

She let out a small sigh and picked up the metal ball from where it had dug itself into the ground. It was exactly beach ball-sized, but when she picked it up, it gave a small tremble and then turned its face to look at her.

It was the second monster that the Beast Tamer Felicia had “tamed.” Its race was Iron Sphere, its name was Gobo-Two, and it could change its size to some degree. It and Felicia’s Power Golem, Gobo, were the gallant mechanical monsters that stood by her side day and night as she worked to develop her miracle pitch.

“Gobo-Two, come here.” When Felicia clapped her hands, the Iron Sphere fell out of Iris’s arms and rolled over towards its master. It had some degree of programmed personality, and the way it rolled around her feet like a scampering animal was the result of a combination of thought patterns.

Iris knew it was all computer code, but she was still a bit jealous of Felicia and her pet, even if the “pet” was just a lump of metal.

“He’s lost a few HP,” Felicia said. “I’m going to have Mr. Kirsch heal him up.”

“If he’d hit me, I would’ve lost more than just a few HP!” Iris exclaimed.

A direct hit from Felicia’s Hydro Blaster would probably have dropped her HP to 0 instantly, leaving nothing of Iris behind but her swimsuit, dropped in accordance with the game’s death penalty.

Her respawn point was her room in their guild house, and while she’d still be in her underwear and not actually nude, the thought of dying and leaving her bikini on the beach was still incredibly mortifying.

They took Gobo-Two back to the cabana, only to find Kirschwasser and Matsunaga scowling at each other across a game board.

“Mr. Kirsch, we’re back,” said Iris.

“Welcome back,” Kirschwasser greeted them. “How did you enjoy beach volleyball?”

“Using Gobo-Two as a ball turned out to be... problematic,” said Iris.

“Could you heal him?” Felicia asked.

“Certainly.” Kirschwasser smiled gently, and a sparkling green light visual poured from his outstretched gauntlet as he cast “Heal.” He was primarily a front-liner, so his healing powers weren’t very potent, but it was enough for the low-HP Iron Sphere.

“So, what are you playing?” Iris asked.

“Shogi,” Matsunaga said as he moved a piece across the board. “And if I may say, Sir Kirschwasser is quite skilled.”

“Ha ha ha.” Kirschwasser laughed and moved a piece in response. “My older brothers trained me on the game. As board games go, I am of course also skilled at mahjong.”

“There are shogi boards in this game?” asked Felicia.

“I made it using the graphic designer,” said Iris smoothly. “The pieces were all originally rings.”

She had made it to pass the copious free time she’d had while waiting for customers to enter the guild house.

Iris herself was quite good at shogi, thanks to her late grandfather’s influence, but she was still the least skilled player among the current membership of Iris Brand. She had asked for rematch after rematch in frustration, yet the young heir beat her easily every time.

Ah, but there was no point in dwelling on such infuriating things.

“Not a lot of people left on the beach, huh?” Iris asked. “I guess it’s because it’s lunchtime... Funny, I think of MMO players as people who forget to do things like eat and sleep.”

“That’s something of a stereotype... although I won’t deny its veracity,” Matsunaga responded as he studied the shogi board carefully. “However, this game monitors the player’s physiology and employs a built-in alarm system. If you ignore your hunger for too long, it will automatically log you out. The same goes for sleep, I imagine. The devs need their players in good health, after all.”

The words were logical, but Felicia tilted her head. “But isn’t there a player who’s said to have never logged out since the game started?”

“Tomakomai, you mean?” Matsunaga asked. “Yes, he is quite the mystery.”

“If he’s never logged out since the game started, shouldn’t he be dead?” Iris asked, knitting her brow.

It was a reasonable question, but the other three could neither confirm nor deny the suggestion.

“What do you think, Iris, Lady Felicia?” Sir Kirschwasser asked. “Shall we take lunch, as well?”

“Hmm, I’d like to enjoy myself while there aren’t as many people around...” Iris said.

“Me, too!” Felicia agreed, hugging Gobo-Two.

Felicia had her swimsuit, after all. Even if she couldn’t swim, she wanted to get her fill of the beach with as few people watching as possible.

“Then let’s take it easy a little while longer,” said Kirschwasser. “Ah, Lord Matsunaga, checkmate.”

There was a small, satisfying click, and Matsunaga winced. “Ah, well done...”

“Even so,” Iris said, “we can’t play beach volleyball, we can’t swim... what should we do?”

“Iris, they have Sun Oil Potions!” Felicia said, producing a suspicious-looking potion she had acquired from somewhere.

“Do you drink it? Or apply it? I wonder if it has any mechanical effect...” Iris wrinkled her nose.

“Well, I guess sunbathing in the game isn’t bad...” Iris murmured.

“Iris, do you not like getting tan?” Felicia asked.

“Not a lot,” said Iris. “It would be nice to have a tan for summer, but it limits your clothing options. What about you, Felicia?”

“I’m in the softball club, so even if I’m careful, I can get pretty dark,” she said.

“Yeah, you said you’re an all-around sports girl, right?” Iris nodded.

The two girls were chatting and drawing pictures in the sand. They couldn’t make the pictures very precise, but Iris was addicted enough to her work that whatever she tried to draw always ended up as clothing designs.

“Hmm, designs... designs...” she murmured.

“Iris, do you go to a design school?” Felicia asked. “Do you need to do design croquis drawings for summer homework?”

“Yeah, I do,” Iris said wearily. “I do. Yeah...”

Summer vacation had only just started, so there was no rush to get through it all just yet. Still, Iris was in a constant struggle with her motivation. She didn’t have any ideas now, and there was no guarantee that she might have any soon, which made the month and a half ahead of her feel very fleeting indeed. It was a type of impatience unique to creators, which made it perhaps a little difficult for Felicia to understand.

“Well, like they say, ‘The worry’s always larger than the flask,’” Felicia said.

“It’s ‘The worry’s always harder than the task,’” Iris corrected. It was an old proverb, used to encourage those facing a difficult trial ahead, but it wasn’t useful in this situation. To be able to produce things without worrying required tremendous confidence in your abilities, which was a talent all its own.

Yes, just like...

The young heir’s smiling face popped into her mind. She expressionlessly smashed the image with a backfist. She wanted confidence, but not that sort of confidence.

Yes, just like...

Like Megumi Fuyo, president and head designer of the cutting-edge fashion brand MiZUNO. Iris idolized her. She had had her own period of self-doubt long ago, it seemed, but she had overcome it, and now she stood at the vanguard of the fashion world.

At the vanguard of the fashion world, with no doubts about her own talent. She was the subject of Iris’s envy, and her inspiration, as well.

Iris was also a personal fan of her designs. Whenever there was an interview with Megumi Fuyo involved, be it on TV or in a magazine, Iris never failed to take it in. Every time she did, she felt her dream — I want to be like her! — swell grander in her mind.

“Iris? Iris?” As Iris’s thoughts carried her away, Felicia waved her hand in front of her.

Iris snapped back to the present. “Um — oh! Sorry, Felicia. What is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Felicia said. “I was just thinking, you’ve drawn a lot of clothing in the sand...”

“Oh, you’re right,” Iris said. While daydreaming, she had drawn copious line drawings in the sands of Manyfish Beach. Gobo-Two dropped out of Felicia’s arms to weave in and out between the lines.

“Well, I have a lot to think about,” Iris said. “Dreams for the future and such...”

“That got deep,” said Felicia.

“I guess it did. What about you, Felicia? Do you want to be a softball player when you grow up?”

“Hmm, my coach says that perfecting the Hydro Blaster won’t be enough to make it in the pro world, so...”

“Just how demanding is Japanese pro softball?” Iris asked incredulously. She was not the kind of person who could accept “insufficient talent” as a reason to give up. She gazed leisurely at the rolling Gobo-Two, and reached the vague conclusion that she had no choice but to keep trying her best.

That was when it happened.

Despite the beach being mostly deserted now, they heard some rather lively chatter nearby. Turning over to see, they saw a diminutive person walking towards them across the beach, drawing glances from all sides.

“Hey, I know her...” said one person.

“Yeah, the girl who has 2,000 or 3,000 friends...” a friend agreed.

Mixed in with the voices, Iris heard unreal numbers being spoken. But immediately, Felicia’s voice joined in.

“H-Hey, I think I know her.”

“Again?!” Iris couldn’t stop the thought from popping out of her mouth. “Felicia, you know a lot of amazing people!”

“Really?” Felicia asked. “Well, I was hanging out with Itchy and Kiryuhito, so I guess I ended up meeting them whether I wanted to or not.”

“Oh, I get it! Just like me with Ed and Bossman!” Iris exclaimed nervously. If this was someone else Felicia had met while hanging around with Ichiro, it couldn’t lead to anything good. Iris had a bad feeling about this. She was being swarmed by people the young heir knew today, and she couldn’t help but feel like some unknown problem he had caused was being foisted on her without warning.

Perhaps it was a baseless feeling, but it was still there.

“Er, so, Felicia, what is her name?” Iris asked.

“Ohhhh, Amesho! It’s me!” somebody called.

“You’re still the cutest in the world today!” another cried.

“Say ‘Me-ow do you do’!” a third said excitedly.

A horde of attractive but anonymous men had gathered on the beach, seemingly out of nowhere, just to praise the girl.

To be honest, Iris thought, they seemed less like friends and more like paparazzi.

“...So her name’s Amesho, then?” Iris asked, dryly.

“Yeah. Right...” Felicia nodded.

“Amesho” referred to... “American Shorthair,” then?

“That swimsuit looks great on you, Amesho!” a man called.

“Your belly button is so sexy, Amesho!” cried another.

“Even the summer sun must be jealous of you, Amesho!” praised a third.

“Me-ow do you do!” Amesho giggled back.

At last, the object of all the men’s compliments came into view.

The sight hit Iris like a lightning bolt.

That wasn’t a metaphor; in NaroFan, a significant shock to a player’s system was accompanied by a flashy lightning visual — yet another silly detail the dev team had wasted their time on — and if that player touched someone else afterwards, it dealt slight lightning attribute damage.

“What’s wrong, Iris?” Felicia asked. Despite standing next to her, she had been able to avoid damage thanks to her Iron Sphere’s enemy Skill “Lightning Rod.”

“Um, that girl Amesho...” Iris began.

“Yeah?”

“Her swimsuit’s an original design...”

“Ahh...”

“And it’s got much better fashion sense than mine!” Iris cried.

“I’ll agree with that...”

Yes, as the crowds parted and they saw the girl, they could see her petite, curveless body clad in a rather mature-looking high-fashion swimsuit. The delicate sunflower pattern spoke of the excellent taste of its designer. Despite the amount of skin on display, it didn’t look vulgar, thanks to a wholesome pareo wrapped around her hips.

Truly...

“You look like the goddess of summer, Amesho!” a man shouted.

...indeed.

Iris couldn’t even speak; the best she could manage was, “Gnnngh.” She felt like her pride had been pounded into dust. At the same time, she was starting to feel apologetic about putting Felicia in that other, more questionable swimsuit.

“Oh, it’s Felicia! Meow-hoo!” Amesho called with an enthusiastic wave. Judging from her cat ears, she was an Anthromorph, and the tail peeking out from her pareo waved back and forth in sync with her hand.

“Hey-ho, Amesho!” Felicia waved back.

“You’re lookin’ good,” Amesho said cheerfully. “Is this a new beast?”

“Yeah,” Felicia said. “It’s Gobo-Two.”

“Aww, nice to meetcha!” Amesho crouched down and patted the Iron Sphere on the “head.” The groupies crowding behind her all let out envious sighs.

Amesho didn’t seem at all bothered to have the men look at her in a swimsuit. Maybe it was just that she was used to it, but either way, it showed considerable grace.

Perhaps noticing Iris and Felicia wincing over the men’s stares, Amesho let out a little cough and suddenly started squirming. “It’s a little mew-miliating, having you all stare at me...”

At once, the men dispersed with a unified cry of distress. Truly, her fans were well-trained.

“Feelin’ better?” Amesho asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Felicia said. “Thanks. I guess you’re pretty popular, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Amesho. “They’re all my precious friends! They give me rare items and stuff all the time!”

The words gave a brief glimpse into Amesho’s calculating nature.

The catgirl then turned her eyes to Iris — who had been silent so far — with a bright smile, affable enough to make even the heart of Iris, as a fellow woman, flutter.

Iris didn’t think there were that many “smile” emotes in the game, but Amesho’s smile in that moment felt optimized to get past a person’s defenses.

“I’m Amesho. Are you Iris?”

“Y-Yeah,” Iris said. “Um, you know me?”

“Maybe,” said Amesho. “Hey, can I add you to my friends list?”

It was clearly a bit of a stock phrase, yet Iris felt no resistance to it. At the earnest-seeming girl’s urging, she accepted the friend request.

“Hee hee hee, thanks!” Amesho giggled. “Now we’re friends!”

“Ah, yeah. I guess we are...” Iris said. Something about Amesho’s smile disarmed any sense of danger about it. Iris knew she was being grifted, yet she couldn’t refuse her.

“Hey, Amesho. Did you make that swimsuit?” Felicia cut in with the question Iris was finding so hard to ask.

“Oh, nyah. It was made for me as part of a finder’s fee.”

“Made for you?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah,” said Amesho.

“Um... by whom?” Felicia asked.

“Nem.”

The word caused Iris to freeze.

That name was familiar.

Not just familiar. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a name she couldn’t have forgotten if she tried. The woman who, as part of some conflict she was having with the young heir, had come in and picked a fight with her.

Iris remembered Nem’s words well. It’s nothing. Unlike the incident with Edward, Nem had been referring to her design sense, which had given the words an extra sting.

Now, she found out that the swimsuit that filled her with such a crippling feeling of inferiority had been made by Nem.

Amesho giggled at the contortions in Iris’s expression. “I heard what happened between you and Nem. You really are jealous of her purr-fect fashion sense, huh?”

“Yeah...” Iris murmured. It was a rather mean-spirited thing to say, but Iris wasn’t so narrow-minded as to fly into a rage over it. She could admit it: the aesthetic ability required to offhandedly design something like the swimsuit Amesho was wearing was fatally lacking in her right now.

At the same time, she couldn’t understand why someone with so much talent would bother picking a fight with her. The young heir had admitted she was being drawn into some kind of crossfire between him and Nem. But why Iris?

“Actually, Iris...” Amesho whispered into Iris’s ear as the young designer scowled, deep in thought. “...Nem’s here right me-ow. You wanna just talk to her?”

At those words, Iris looked up. “Nem is... here?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be best for both of you,” Amesho said.

It was true that Iris had to find out once and for all what exactly Nem had against her. Judging from the woman’s behavior, it didn’t seem like a problem they could just talk out, but still, it was unsettling to have someone holding such a grudge against her and not to know the reason why. There was also a distinct possibility that Nem was just under a misapprehension.

But just as she was thinking that...

“There you are,” a voice said. “I’ve been searching everywhere.”

Iris didn’t even have to wonder who it was.

“Whoa, speak of the devil,” Felicia said.

“Excuse me,” the woman rebuked Felicia for her rude exclamation.

It was Nem. She was standing there, arms folded. Although she had apparently designed Amesho’s bathing suit, she herself was still dressed the way she had been in the guild house previously. Either way, it was armor she had designed that put her taste on full display, and that was enough to inflame Iris’s sense of inferiority.

“Meow-hoo, Nem!” Amesho cried. “I’m lovin’ the swimsuit!”

“...I am happy to hear that,” Nem replied tersely to Amesho’s bright and cheery exclamation.

“Nem, you’re not gonna wear a swimsuit?” Amesho asked.

“Yes, I’d prefer not to,” Nem said.

“But the two behind you are wearing ‘em...”

Just as Amesho had observed, there were a man and a woman standing behind Nem in swimsuits that looked like her designs. An Anthromorph man and a Human girl. The girl carried a parasol and wore a lace bikini with a flower pattern, while the man wore boomerang pants done up in white and indigo. Despite the little fabric involved, Nem’s design sense still shone through.

They hadn’t even been competing, yet Iris felt like she had lost. She only barely managed to remain in her right mind by focusing her eyes on the shark inner tube the man was holding at his side.

“Taker and Sorceress, you both look so good!” Amesho exclaimed.

“Our guild leader told us to wear them,” Taker said flatly. “What could we do?”

“Well, I like mine,” said Sorceress. “It’s nice. I have so few opportunities to wear them in the real world.”

The two players standing behind her, exchanging light banter, appeared to be more of Amesho’s “friends.” Hesitantly, Iris repeated one word that had caught her attention.

“‘Guild’?”