Matsunaga had feelers everywhere in the game, and he wrote not just about official developer-sponsored events, but also interplayer scuffles and drama, in interesting and funny ways.

The United Guild was no exception.

Any dedicated player would be interested in an event that featured multiple guilds working with top players to complete a Grand Quest, but on top of the event’s innate interest, Matsunaga was a master of fanning the flames. The outline alone sounded like a plotline straight out of a manga, even if it was Matsunaga himself who had arranged it that way.

“He’s got real talent as a producer,” Ichiro said, sounding rather impressed.

“I agree,” Sakurako said. “Given the way he seized control of the atmosphere at the conference yesterday and guided it to go just the way he wanted.”

“Though it appears that one was just a kagemusha,” Ichiro added. “A political decoy.”

“Really?!” Sakurako asked, startled.

The article Ichiro was reading described the results of the conference. There was no mention of the friction between the players; it just explained how the teams had been divided roughly between an above-ground boss-slaying team and an underground event-triggering team. It seemed most of the Knights’ forces would be focused above-ground, which meant that Stroganoff must have put up quite a fight.

At the end of the article, Matsunaga made a brief mention of King Kirihito, writing that he hadn’t come to the conference, but his words implied a sense of certainty that he would show up at some point during the Grand Quest.

“I hadn’t noticed before, but he’s written quite a lot about King Kirihito in the past, hasn’t he?” Sakurako noted.

She was right: Matsunaga occasionally wrote articles about various legends of King that had sprung up within NaroFan. One story talked about him beating an earlier Grand Boss solo; another about how he had acquired one of the game’s legendary unique weapons.

“Considering the influence that Matsunaga’s blog has, he may even be the originator of King’s ‘legendary’ status,” Ichiro said as he clicked a link to another article about King.

“Do you think there’s a connection between King and Matsunaga?” Sakurako asked.

“I don’t believe so. But Matsunaga seems to want to make sure that people know about King,” Ichiro said.

“Well, he is playing solo in NaroFan,” Sakurako said. “That’s a topic ripe for interest...”

Ichiro had suspected some ulterior motives to Matsunaga’s actions when he had been invited to join the United Guild. Of course, Ichiro didn’t care about those motives — he had taken the invitation because he’d wanted to — but they did seem to have something to do with King Kirihito. It was as if Matsunaga was trying to author a storyline for the world of the VRMMO.

A producer, indeed... Perhaps that was why he had his guild play the role of the villain.

“Really, everyone does enjoy the game in their own way,” Ichiro said with a beaming smile.

“How do you enjoy it, Ichiro-sama?” Sakurako asked.

“Me?” Ichiro brought his coffee to his lips, breathed, and set the cup down. “I believe you know, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, I believe that I do,” she admitted, “but...”

Ichiro closed his eyes and replayed the elegant flow of King Kirihito’s swordplay in his mind. To be honest, he was shaken. Such a thing existing, even within the bounds of a game, completely exceeded his imagination. This was what kept the world interesting: the way it occasionally produced things that far exceeded his expectations.

When Ichiro saw something that moved him profoundly in this way, he had a bad habit of wanting to surpass it. Of course, this only applied when the act lined up with his own inclinations, but the “strength” that King possessed was a barometer that Ichiro found indispensable to his being.

Any accusations of immaturity he might receive for feeling this way were mere nonsense. If anyone thought it was petty for Ichiro to use everything he had against King Kirihito, they were merely underestimating King Kirihito’s capability. To Ichiro, King Kirihito — Sera Kiryu — was unquestionably worth fighting on equal terms. At least, within the world of the game.

“Sakurako-san, are you going to log in today?” he asked.

“Hmm. I’m not terribly interested in participating in the quest,” she answered. “Ichiro-sama, you’re in the dungeon-crawling team, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I could come accompany you if you want... Though my level may be a bit too low. I think I’ll wait until after all my housework is done to log in.”

“Hmmm... very well.” Ichiro stood up and headed for the Miraive Gear Cocoon he had set up in the game room.

“Are you preparing to log in?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good travels, then,” Sakurako said, in the manner of one sending a warrior off to battle.

But Ichiro’s manner was as cool as ever. He merely held up a hand and said, “Mm.”

Members of the Dual Serpents made up the lion’s share of the dungeon crawl team that Ichiro would be joining, along with the Anthromorph Thief Amesho and the Mage Gorgonzola of the Knights.

Their destination, the Forgotten Catacombs, was swarming with Zombie Legions and many other powerful monsters, but Matsunaga had come up with a rather cheap trick to expedite their journey.

It was based on an exploit of the game’s AI. When the number of players on a map surpassed a certain limit, the AI would adjust the quality of the graphics and the frequency of mob spawns to keep the server from getting overloaded. Since the Forgotten Catacombs was a single map with no transitions, sending a large enough number of players into it at once would force the system to throttle their encounters.

Matsunaga had asked Amesho, who had a great many friends, to supply this large number of players, spamming the dungeon to further guarantee the success of the main team. It seemed the rumors of Amesho having 2,000 friends was not at all exaggerated, as nearly 500 of them, all of them elite players (and all of them male) flooded into the dungeon at the catgirl’s call. Having the monster spawn rate so decreased would greatly simplify their quest through the dungeon.

“I hate the choppiness...” Amesho said, waving her arm around.

Ichiro agreed. “I hear the Thistle Corporation’s servers and system-regulating supercomputer are quite excellent, but still...”

“It’s like an F5 attack... It’s not gonna take down the server, is it?” Amesho asked.

“I doubt it.” Ichiro had determined that the server load wasn’t that extreme just yet.

His Cocoon-type Miraive Gear’s 200 teraFLOP image processor was 25 times more powerful than that of the consumer-grade Miraive Gear X. It was on the level of supercomputers in the old days. Combined with the excellent network of Tsuwabuki Estates, it was keeping his movements as smooth as ever. He perceived almost no degradation in experience quality; the power of money at play once more.

“Oh, that’s right. I haven’t friended you yet.” Amesho opened her menu window and sent a friend request without hesitation.

“You really have no scruples, do you?” Ichiro asked.

“You don’t wanna be my friend, Tsuwabuki?” Amesho asked.

She was quite short. She had set her height just shorter than the lowest possible height allowed for male avatars so that there was no male avatar that she couldn’t look at with upturned eyes. She did this with Ichiro now.

So this is how she has so many friends, Ichiro thought, a piece clicking into place. Sakurako had told him about this. In online games, female players could use their gender as a weapon to more easily acquire items and experience.

“Well, I don’t mind.” Ichiro could see no reason to refuse, so he accepted the friend request.

“Yay! Tsuwabuki is my 3,000^th friend!” she exclaimed.

“And you are my fourth.” Ichiro called up the in-game browser and opened Matsunaga’s blog.

The most recent update had been thirty minutes ago. It provided the number of players participating in the plan, a detailed timetable, and at the end, links to videos and past articles.

Matsunaga didn’t outright say that last-minute participants were welcome, but knowing him, he had probably done it to encourage rubberneckers.

“Oh, hello, everyone. How are you?” a flippant voice rang out. Matsunaga himself had just logged in.

“Matsunaga, there are way too many people!” Amesho exclaimed. “Is it all choppy for you, too?”

“I’ve overclocked my image card,” Matsunaga replied, “but even without that, the X’s double-precision floating point can run at eight teras. Unless your network connection is miserable, there should be no fatal drop in performance.”

“Hmm...” Amesho murmured.

Anyone who had bought a Miraive Gear would probably have at least a decent network connection, but those with an already strained network connection — perhaps a public setting — might see lag.

“If you’re really worried, open config and reduce your graphics quality,” Matsunaga said.

“Hmm... naw, thanks. I guess I’ve gotta just deal with it.”

“Would you prefer us to avoid attack magic with flashy visuals?” asked an Elf man clad in an all-concealing indigo robe, approaching them.

It was “Demon” Gorgonzola. He was the Knights’ greatest Mage, and in keeping with his celebrity reputation, he had many attack spell Arts with impressive visuals. Bringing out a series of those in their present environment would certainly put a major burden on the server.

“Ahh, good point,” Matsunaga said. “Perhaps we should let Mr. Tsuwabuki and Miss Amesho, who can deal with mobs in more mundane ways, handle most of it.”

Ichiro just shrugged. He had spells with flashy visuals and sword techniques like Strash, but he could also bulldoze enemies with his brute stats alone, and he also had the Monetary Blade Breaker skill he had worked out the day before. He certainly could fight in ways that wouldn’t burden the server.

Ichiro looked around. Nearly all of the main dungeon crawl force was in place. Most of them were from the Dual Serpents, but the Knights had sent some Scouts and a handful of front-line fighters. It was looking about time to head out.

“Um... Itchy, are you here?” a hesitant voice leaked out.

The group turned in unison to look at the source of it.

“Hey, Felicia,” Ichiro said.

“Ah, Itchy...”

“And Kirihito,” Ichiro added.

It wasn’t King; Kirihito (Leader) of the Kirihitters had accompanied Felicia. As an intermediate-level player, she would have needed him to escort her into a dungeon in the middle of the Necrolands.

When she had thanked him for walking her there, he merely said “We are friends, aren’t we?” and left. Of course, for friends, they weren’t even on each other’s friends lists, but she wasn’t about to comment on that.

“Um, Itchy. I went there today,” she began. She didn’t specify where she had been, but Ichiro understood immediately. She meant Sera Kiryu’s house.

“Hm, so? How did it go?” he asked.

“I don’t know...” she admitted, truthfully. “So I still don’t know what to do. And I know you’ll both just do whatever you want...”

As Felicia pouted, Matsunaga, who had been watching from afar, chose this moment to speak up. “Will you be joining us, Miss Felicia?” he asked.

The question came as a surprise to everyone present. Felicia was the lowest level of the assembled players by a wide margin. She wasn’t specialized for dungeon exploration, and it was clear that bringing her along would be nothing but a burden to them.

While Felicia froze up in the face of the unexpected question, Ichiro immediately guessed Matsunaga’s scheme. Even so, he said: “If she wants to come, I won’t stop her.”

“Wait,” Gorgonzola’s dreary tones emanated from the hood of his robe. “What good will having her along do? I’m not taking responsibility for anything that happens to her, either.”

“Aw, let’s take her along!” Amesho said with a grin, her reaction the polar opposite of Gorgonzola’s. “It’ll be easy-peasy with so many of us around! And having more people is always more fun!”

Amesho was correct, of course. Ichiro was confident that he could reach the bottom floor even by himself, and now he was surrounded by fellow elites. They should have no issue protecting Felicia.

Of course, there was no reason at all to bring her along...

Felicia was likely well aware that she wouldn’t add anything, but after a minute to process the suggestion, she said, “I want to go.”

“Yay!” Amesho cried, jumping up and down. “Friend me, okay, Fellie? Hee hee hee, 3,001!”

Amesho strode up to a very disoriented Felicia and pumped her hand enthusiastically.

Ichiro, in that moment, could do no more than speculate as to why Felicia had agreed to go. But whatever the reason, if the once-ambivalent girl was now making decisions for herself, he had to respect those decisions. Such were Ichiro’s thoughts as he watched Matsunaga from afar, the man grinning as things had once again gone as he had orchestrated.

The dungeon crawl proceeded smoothly.

The spam plan had worked like a charm, keeping the powerful mobs to a minimum, and the rest of their fighters were so strong that even without Ichiro, they probably would have had smooth sailing.

“My arms are moving all choppily...” Felicia said.

“I know, right?” Amesho exclaimed.

Felicia and Amesho had apparently become fast friends. Being cast into the crowd of elites had made Felicia nervous, but making a friend with a relatively similar mentality appeared to have loosened her up.

“VRMMOs are just like mobile games, huh?” Amesho added. “With lag and slowdown and stuff... Going through that in virtual reality is no fun!”

“Amesho, do you play mobile games a lot?” Felicia asked.

“Aw, I’ve played ’em for a couple of years... That’s right! Lemme show you something neat.” Amesho assumed the dignity of a top player, showing off one rare item after another that most people wouldn’t see in a normal playthrough.

When Felicia asked how she acquired the rare items, the answer was merely, “Connections!”

In other words, people had given them to her.

With the majority of the dungeon raid party consisting of the taciturn Dual Serpents and the dour Elf Mage Gorgonzola, the two vibrant female players stood out all the more. A few members of Gorgonzola’s group sometimes looked like they wanted to join in on the conversation, but the chemistry between them projected an impenetrable wall of femininity that not even the game’s strongest magic users could surpass.

Matsunaga cast a glance at the girls, then turned his eyes forward again.

Ichiro hadn’t been terribly surprised by Matsunaga’s suggestion that they bring Felicia. He had more or less guessed at what he was planning, and Felicia’s presence — despite being a drag on the party — fit right in with it.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Tsuwabuki?” Matsunaga asked, turning back. He must have felt the other man’s eyes watching him.

“Hmm, let me see if I can guess what you’re thinking.” Ichiro held up an index finger, reciting one of his favorite phrases.

Matsunaga did not hide his scowl. “Please don’t.”

“You’ve been obsessed with the idea of creating ‘myths’ on the internet,” Ichiro continued, with at least enough consideration to keep his voice low so that no one else could hear. “We could call them legends, or folklore, if you prefer... or gossip, in more vulgar terms. Then, one day, you found King Kirihito. I don’t know how you learned about him — and I don’t really care — but you’ve been writing articles about him, trying to craft the legend of Narrow Fantasy Online’s ultimate solo player.”

Matsunaga said nothing in response.

Ichiro remained at his side as they walked diffidently down the corridor, and he continued. “Was that your reasoning behind creating the United Guild, as well? Was your insistence on dividing up the Knights to keep them from defeating the Grand Boss? That way, the Knights will lose, or find themselves on the verge of death, only to have King appear and slay the boss... That’s the scenario you’re after.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but Ichiro believed Matsunaga had actually laid even more groundwork. Perhaps he had convinced one of the Knights to throw the fight, which would make it even more dramatic. The Knights’ membership seemed to really enjoy roleplaying; if any of them was less concerned than Stroganoff with the glory of defeating the Grand Boss, they might go along with such a suggestion from Matsunaga.

“Then I, of course, was in your way,” Ichiro added. “Like King, I could easily make it to the bottom floor of the dungeon on my own. If you left me to my own devices, I might have just reached the Grand Boss before King, and defeated it. You couldn’t have that.”

“Impressive,” Matsunaga said, and sounded like he meant it. “You’re exactly right. Really... But now that you’ve figured out that much, there’s no point in hiding it, I suppose.”

“You wanted someone to figure it out, didn’t you?” Ichiro asked.

“Am I that transparent? What a shock.” Matsunaga’s trademark smile appeared on his face. “I’ve been an internet denizen for 20 years. I’ve been running affiliate blogs for about ten of those years. I’ve found that the world of the internet is fertile ground for the creation of myths.”

Matsunaga’s voice was surprisingly calm, without a trace of anger.

“You often see the words ‘God’ and ‘Festival’ thrown around to describe people or events. It’s a sort of mass hysteria — though that may be a quirk of the Japanese user. Internet folklore, to use your word... I’ve always wanted to try to craft such a story for myself. The joy of watching your copypasta reprinted in insomnia threads or watching the views on a video you’ve posted skyrocket... Do you understand that? Maybe not... You seem rather above that kind of thing.”

“A desire for recognition?” Ichiro asked. “I understand the logic behind it, but I’ve never felt it, personally.” His words were tactless, but Matsunaga showed no sign of anger.

Ichiro Tsuwabuki had met “producer” types like Matsunaga before. As the sole heir to the Tsuwabuki Concern, he had had much experience with them. His father had been very lucky that Ichiro had been born a genius with no obstacles in life.

That, of course, had led to patrons, and it was men like Matsunaga, producers, that had helped Ichiro make a name for himself in the business world at such a young age.

Ichiro had enjoyed the treatment at first, but he’d tired of it in time. They had set up expectations for Ichiro, and he had met those expectations easily. In a way, it was a formation of a myth.