5 - Noble Son, Display

“Erk...”

The strangled noise came just as they were about to resume the story, following the sound of the guild house door opening. They all turned around to see a man in a black coat in the process of spinning around and leaving.

“Hey, it’s Kiryuhito!” Felicia called out.

And it was indeed him. Narrow Fantasy Online’s second strongest solo player, a.k.a. King Kirihito. He was a rare sight among the people in that lobby, so his appearance sparked something of a buzz around the room.

“It’s King Kirihito...”

“I’ve never seen him in the flesh before...”

“Is it true he fought Tsuwabuki recently?”

It was as if some rare beast were walking among them. And in terms of encounter ratio, perhaps that’s what he was.

“What are you guys doing here?” King Kirihito asked, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

Ichiro was as unfazed as ever, drinking the tea that Kirschwasser had brewed. No one had counted how many cups he had drunk, but it was clear it had been quite a few. You couldn’t get full and be forced to stop in the game.

Ichiro turned to King. “Just having a sort of discussion circle. You?”

“My weapon durability’s getting low... Oh, there you are, Edward.” He hadn’t exactly been called out, but now that he’d been seen, King Kirihito must have realized that trying to leave now would make him look foolish. And so with as brazen an attitude as ever, King called to the seated Machina. It seemed they knew each other, as well. “I need you to re-up XAN’s durability.”

“R-Right... Got it.” With the subject being what it was, it was unsurprising that Edward was feeling low-energy. But he quickly put on a relieved expression (of a sort) and nodded. From his perspective, it probably seemed like a great excuse to leave the conversation.

He took the unadorned straight blade proffered by King, then retreated quickly into the workshop in the back. Considering that they would be dredging up the story of his loss, it had been in rather poor taste of Ichiro to invite him to join the discussion in the first place.

Iris had pointed something like that out, but the young heir himself had dismissed her concern as “nonsense.” In truth, Ichiro had merely wanted Edward to join them because he liked him. But it was still in poor taste.

“A pleasure to meet you, King.” Kirschwasser offered a cup of tea to the still-standing man. “Thank you for taking care of my master the other day.”

“Ah, thank you.” King took the cup, and stared in disbelief at the silver-haired Knight. “‘Master?’ Are you the old man’s wife?”

“Ha ha ha. I am his attendant. His servant.”

Not even Kirschwasser could speak without a little strain after that. Felicia had also jumped to her feet, leaving Iris as the only one who didn’t know what was going on.

Only Ichiro and Felicia knew Kirschwasser’s true gender, as far as they knew. They had no way of determining if King’s words were a joke or not.

“So you come here too, Kiryuhito?” Felicia said, adjusting her position in her seat. “They call you the lofty solo player, so I always assumed you never talked to anyone.”

“I need to recharge my weapon’s durability, and there are players that will stock items cheaper than NPCs. So there are a few stores I frequent,” King said, showing absolutely no intention of joining them in a seat. “My weapon has a high rarity and repair difficulty, so the only ones who can repair it are Bossman and Edward. Of course, they charge accordingly. That Bossman’s a real skinflint.”

“Hmm...” Felicia mused.

Behind his glib words hovered the faintest trace of admiration for the game’s top crafting players. That seemed to surprise even Felicia.

Iris poked her in the shoulder. “Um, Felicia?”

“What?”

“I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know who this is...”

“Oh, right.” Felicia nodded, then cleared her throat and pointed to King. “That’s Kiryuhito.”

“A more substantial explanation, please?”

“Um...” She flicked her eyes around the room, looking for aid from “Kiryuhito” himself, but he merely sipped his tea with an indifferent expression.

In exchange, Ichiro responded (while also drinking tea with an indifferent expression), “Kirihito, also known as King Kirihito. He’s one of the game’s most famous top players.”

“Huh, I’ve never heard of him...”

“Well, I’m only famous among a certain set,” King said, showing no sign of being hurt by Iris’s words. Maybe he had a reasonably healthy self-image. In that respect, he was just like Ichiro. “So, what were you talking about?”

“What I was doing before I met you,” Ichiro said.

“Oh, the fight with Edward?” King asked. “Matsunaga told me about that. I saw his blog, too.”

“That’s right, it must have been hard on Sir Matsunaga, with all the ‘no reprinting’ drama lately...” Kirschwasser murmured.

“He likes to choreograph his own stories in the game anyway, so I’m sure he wasn’t hurt that badly by it,” King responded. “Lately he’s been aggregating Twitter reactions.”

When Kirschwasser joined in the conversation between Ichiro and King, it led to a very in-depth conversation. Iris, with realization, and Felicia with half-realization, both shouted “Ah!” and hit their fist into their palm.

“That’s right, you said it was on Matsunaga’s blog!” Felicia cried.

“So I did,” Kirschwasser agreed. “But the article was not favorable towards Master Ichiro, so I did not believe you would enjoy reading it.”

“Yeah, so you said I shouldn’t!”

“R-Right... The article on vsoku aggregate...” Iris said, joining the conversation at last. It seemed she had read the article, too.

Ichiro opened up the Miraive Gear’s exclusive net browser and called up the page of the aggregate blog in question: vsoku@VRMMO aggregate blog. It was an information site run by Matsunaga, a NaroFan player and leader of one of the three great guilds, the Dual Serpents.

The contents tended towards gossip, with little in the way of objective information. Long ago, the blog had been part of the old internet console wars. Though it had never sided with any one camp, it had focused aggressively on clickbait and trolling, and earned large numbers of hits with the flame wars it incited. Now the contents focused solely on VRMMOs, and it wasn’t nearly as dubious.

“This is it.” With a bright smile, Ichiro opened an article entitled “NaroFan: Obnoxious Whale Found (lol).”

Felicia grimaced openly. “The ‘obnoxious whale’ is you, right, Itchy?”

“That’s correct.” It was clearly meant as an insult, but for some reason, the term seemed to please him.

Felicia peeked over his shoulder at the article, and soon, Kirschwasser and Iris joined her. King remained where he was, leaning back against a pillar and apparently unsure of what to do with his now-empty teacup. He occasionally glanced at Kirschwasser as if hoping for a refill, but his glance went unnoticed.

Naturally, the article’s contents painted Ichiro as the villain. The site’s major format was collecting message board threads, which were ordered in arbitrary ways, which made it seem, to the viewer, like the consensus of the internet at large. There were numerous pictures, too; screencaps taken with the game’s pay-to-download app.

“Who took these?” Felicia asked.

“I don’t know,” Kirschwasser said. “Someone with the Dual Serpents, most likely. They do seem to hide out all over the game, hunting for material. I didn’t even notice them at the time.”

Even so, at a glance, it was clear that the article was exaggerated. It was enough to cause Felicia to scowl for a few seconds. She didn’t like seeing people besmirch the name of her beloved Itchy.

There were quite a few topics discussed there, including the Iris Brand incident, expressed through message board threads and other resources edited in a biased way. There were links to video sites, too.

“Many top and mid-range players in the game owe a great deal to the Forging Guild, so it’s easy to paint me as the villain,” Ichiro said. “It would also get Matsunaga more hits.”

“But this is twisting the truth,” Felicia pouted. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t know, what’s written here is all pretty valid...” Iris murmured back.

“There’s only one thing that happened, but there is more than one truth. How one interprets events is up to the individual,” Ichiro said smoothly, then glanced up again at King Kirihito, who was still struggling with his empty cup. “Now, Sir Kirschwasser. Won’t you pour tea for everyone again?” he asked. “Then we’ll reveal what the truth was from Iris’s point of view and mine.”

“Yes, sir.” The silver-haired Knight bowed respectfully.

◆　◆　◆

The young heir Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s heinous behavior soon became the talk of the artisans of Glasgobara. The tale grew arms and legs in the telling, as well as six wings, two horns, and a tail. In other words, it had been exaggerated.

Glasgobara was a town full of players who were deeply invested in the game in ways other than the standard front-line achievements. Naturally, this had led to message boards being swarmed with discussion about the provocative actions of the obvious whale Ichiro and the poor treatment he had given to the Akihabara Forging Guild’s second-best crafter, Edward.

The problem was that no one tossing around opinions had observed the incident personally. They had all gotten their information secondhand.

The information that Edward had meant to leak only to his trusted guild comrades soon spread from them to their trusted friends, and then further and further from there, to satisfy the internet’s need for intriguing gossip. It was unavoidable. There was no stopping people from talking, especially in an age when mountains of information could be disseminated with one press of a key.

This manner in which the rumors spread also explained why most people who heard about it sided with Edward. When he had told his fellow guild members about it, he had naturally downplayed the areas in which he’d been morally deficient: in other words, the part where he had barged into someone else’s guild house and threatened an Elf girl. That much was to be expected; who expects someone to be impartial when venting to their own friends? It was no fault of Edward’s that the story had spread in such a one-sided way.

Besides, the reason the rumors had spread to the wider internet was because of the interest in the player of the Ichiro Tsuwabuki character.

“It sounds like the name of an idol who skyrocketed to popularity five years ago.”

“It sounds like a guest lecturer who came to my university once before.”

“It sounds like the man I saw strolling through the halls of my company with its president.”

“It sounds like the musician I saw play a challenging violin solo at a concert one time.”

“It sounds like the nice gentleman who helped us when I went hunting for beetles in the forest with my son.”

Could they all accept that this was all the work of the same man, Ichiro Tsuwabuki?

Not even the ridiculously glowing terms in which he was written about on Wikipedia included all of that. It mentioned that he was the son of Meiro Tsuwabuki, head of the Tsuwabuki Concern, and that he had briefly skyrocketed to fame as an idol singer about five years ago. Far more space was dedicated to the latter, which meant that the article gave an impression of Ichiro that was rather removed from his reality.

But in the end, most players never even made the connection between Ichiro Tsuwabuki the person and Ichiro Tsuwabuki the character. His name had appeared on a message board’s “famous person sighting” thread, but there weren’t many fans passionate enough to find out if it was really him, and since he had almost no posts on his Twitter or Facebook accounts, it was nearly impossible to follow his private life. So most people assumed it was just some wannabe.

In any case, the breakdown between Edward, who was quite famous in his little world of crafting players, and Ichiro Tsuwabuki, who had a lot of potential as a conversation topic, had caused many more players than expected to follow the proceedings with proverbial popcorn in hand.

Edward, who was high-strung at the best of times, found this very disconcerting. But what of Ichiro, then?

“Oh, that’s very good.”

Ichiro didn’t mind at all. Well, that probably went without saying.

His jacket, made from the Radiant Morpho components, had miraculously succeeded after only a few tries, and they decided to use the leftover wings for the slacks. Originally, Iris had thought she might need to use a cheaper set of components and recipe for the pants. But since they had so much to spare, she decided to try making them from the same material as the jacket.

The results were a disaster, with all the beautifully glowing butterfly wings converted to hideous scrap. But Ichiro and Iris agreed that they didn’t want to give up. He went hunting for more Radiant Morpho wings, and after 123 tries, the slacks were finally completed.

The number of “Item Steal” Art Jewels he used must have far outstripped that number. Iris didn’t want to think about it, but at least it would be a happy day for the bank accounts of the Thistle Corporation.

“Now we just have to make the vest and the leather shoes, correct?” Kirschwasser asked.

“Well, we have quite a few components,” Iris said. “Maybe I’ll just make them.”

“Has your Create Armor level increased, Iris?” Ichiro asked.

“Y-Yeah...” There was still hesitation in Iris’s voice.

Her mind was still occupied mostly by something she had read that morning. It was a rumor about a feud between a Machina Blacksmith and a Dragonet Magi-Fencer in Narrow Fantasy Online.

The fact that they were both premium package users had given the story’s reporting a more sensational edge. Ichiro didn’t seem to mind, but Iris couldn’t help but dwell on it.

She wasn’t such a dedicated netizen that she spent a lot of time on message boards, but she regularly checked the aggregate blogs, and was rather well-informed about online culture.

She had first gotten involved with them to gather more information about NaroFan, so naturally, the first one she had read faithfully was the site that specialized in VRMMO-related articles. The blog had done an article about the quarrel from the other day. It had been edited in a biased way, but Iris had no way of knowing that. Most of the opinions in the comment section were in support of Edward, and the ones that weren’t mostly came off as typical contrarian trolling.

Was she doing the right thing by siding with this man?

As she felt these doubts begin to rise in her mind, a voice in her head scolded her firmly. If she told him what was on her mind, he would laugh and call it “nonsense.”

This wasn’t about doing the right thing. The young heir valued her designs. He may say awful things sometimes, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wanted her to make his armor. Thus, there was no need to question if it was right or wrong.

It was just that Iris had also come to understand the meaning behind the way that man had looked at her: the injustice of not having your abilities fairly evaluated. It was a childish emotion, indeed, but Iris had an inkling of how that felt.

Or was she just becoming sympathetic to him? Maybe that was it.

“Is something the matter, Iris?” Sir Kirschwasser tilted his head.

“No. I was just thinking about something...” With that, she opened her menu window, then pulled some fatigue restorers out of the guild’s communal item box.

Using Arts or being active for long periods of time built up fatigue, which could inflict the status “Sluggish” and affect a player’s mindset. All the things weighing on her mind must be tiring her out, Iris thought as she put the recovery object to her lips.

“While I would like to equip it as soon as possible...” Ichiro said. It was just a shirt, slacks, a jacket, and three accessories, but Ichiro looked upon his equipment with fondness. “...you are the one making the armor. Even if your mindset is not directly connected to the functioning of your Arts, I still do not wish to equip any items that you made while scowling.”

“You could just say, ‘If you’re tired, take a break,’ you know,” Iris said.

“Nonsense.”

It must be nice, being so ignorant of other people’s feelings, she thought, but then quickly reminded herself that that itself was a childish emotion. Besides, even if he understood how she felt, it wouldn’t change one inch of how he spoke or acted.

She sighed.

“I hear that sighing reduces your ‘luck’ stat,” Ichiro commented.

“I know. But that only affects the critical rate for item creation. And I’m allowed to fail repeatedly anyway, so what does it matter?” Iris sat down in a chair by the wall of the workshop.

“Shall I make some tea?” Sir Kirschwasser asked.

“Please do,” Ichiro said.

“I’ll have some, too,” Iris added.

Kirschwasser gave a slight bow and left the room. At times like these, he really was just like a butler. He would probably look great in a real butler costume, but he seemed to enjoy his full plate armor. And anyway, she was in no position to be volunteering such things, given her current Create Armor level.

“Young heir...” Iris began.

“Yes?”

When she addressed him, he had been passing the time in his usual way, reading some kind of English news site in the proprietary browser. He seemed to like to read newspapers when he was unoccupied. Airi Kakitsubata’s final report card for English looked like a row of ducks every year (all 2s — the highest grade was 5), so she couldn’t even guess at what the article could be about.

Iris hesitated for a moment before voicing her concern. “Have you ever failed at anything?”

“No,” he responded immediately. “I suppose I have made mistakes before. But that in itself is a matter of subjective opinion.”

“Wow, really? You’ve made mistakes? Tell me more,” she prodded, a slightly wicked smile on her face.

The young heir narrowed his eyes slightly and closed his browser. “I was taking my college entrance exams. One minor calculation error cost me a perfect score. It was very awkward to realize it as I was marking my own test.”

“A-Anything else?” she asked.

“No.”

Iris fell silent. How to respond to that? It was so outrageous, she wasn’t even sure that it was the truth.

“Incidentally, I chose to withdraw my college application that time and retake it the next year, and that time, I received a perfect score. So I personally don’t count the mistake,” Ichiro said. “And yet, it remains on my record. I find it quite frustrating. If I had a time machine, I’d happily go back and redo it.”

“W-Wow... H-How awful for you...” Iris felt her smile twitch.

It was a good thing that she didn’t know he was referring to a Harvard entrance exam, and that he’d taken it when his age was in the single digits.

Who was it that said, “When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you?” “Abyss” didn’t refer just to crevices in the earth, but to the sky far above, as well. Iris felt an instinctive need to change the subject.

“Speaking of which, you... um... Are you married or anything? You seem pretty stable, and you have money.”

“That’s quite a personal question...” Ichiro said. “As the human race has already reached its apex in me, I have no interest in procreation. So if I feel like getting married, I will. And if I don’t, I won’t.”

“How often do you get called a creep?” she asked.

“I haven’t counted, but it’s likely less often than you’re thinking.”

It was then that Kirschwasser returned with a tray of tea, sparing Iris from any more of Ichiro’s unbearable pomposity. Often she’d dismiss such talk with a “yeah, right,” but he did seem quite wealthy, so she couldn’t help but think that maybe it was true. The fact that she let herself think that was even more unforgivable, in her mind.

“What were we talking about?” Kirschwasser asked.

“The fact that I am the perfect organism, and thus have no need to marry.”

“That’s not much of a topic,” the old Knight replied. The rich aroma wafting up from the cups was one rarely seen (smelled?) in the real world. “Of course, Master Ichiro, you could still get married twenty or thirty years hence.”

“True. You have more to worry about than I do, Sir.”

“What a hurtful thing to say...”

Iris enjoyed the fragrance of the tea as she listened to their conversation, which seemed somehow simultaneously mellow and barbed.

“Now, Iris, are you feeling like you’ve failed in some way?” Ichiro asked.

Being dragged so abruptly back to the subject caused Iris to nearly spit out her tea. The program did allow for such reaction emotes, but fortunately, she had omitted them from her potential repertoire.

“Wh-What?”

“Since you brought it up so abruptly, I was wondering,” Ichiro said. “Or was the marriage subject your primary concern?”

“N-No! Um, that’s right... I don’t feel like I’m failing now, but in the past...” All of a sudden, she found herself wrestling with her words. “I sort of understand how Edward feels... And like, you’re being pretty mean to him...”

“It’s nonsense to turn this into an attack upon my character. Well, I don’t mind, personally. One must work past mistakes and failures within oneself.”

“Most people can’t just blast through them like you do, though,” Iris said.

“I am aware,” Ichiro replied, bringing the cup to his lips.

Then he set the cup and saucer on one of the many tables set in the lobby, and opened his browser again. He pulled up a certain page, then turned the window in Iris’s direction and flipped it. It was the same aggregate blog page she had been looking at this morning.

“You saw that page?” Iris asked.

“I try to stay abreast of things.”

“In the end, I guess it’s hard to accept that someone is better or more popular than you...” Iris admitted. “Though you probably wouldn’t understand that.”

“That’s right. Because in the end, I am always the strongest and the coolest.”

Hearing that, Kirschwasser murmured something about Tsuwabuki exceptionalism.

“I am me, you are you, and Ed is Ed,” Ichiro said. “You shouldn’t let it bother you.”

“Wait, are you trying to cheer me up?” Iris asked.

“If you wish to think that, you may,” Ichiro said. “In the end, all interpretations are subjective. I do like Ed, but I do not think he would listen if I told him that.”

“Yeah, I think he hates you,” Iris agreed.

“That is his prerogative. So, are you satisfied?”

Iris took the cup away from her mouth, the white bottom of the cup visible beneath the little bit of liquid remaining. It had been delicious tea. With another sigh, she set the cup down on the saucer. “I’m not, to be honest, but I do feel refreshed. The tea was delicious.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” Kirschwasser said with a smile as he took up the tray.

In the end, Iris still felt as nervous as ever. No matter how many platitudes the young heir employed, it wasn’t easy to just accept it.

All interpretations were subjective. That was true. But it was those subjective interpretations that had let people accept articles on aggregate blogs as unvarnished truth, and so the young heir’s reassurances (if that’s what they were meant to be) didn’t make her feel much better.

Edward said he would crush the armor I made into powder. He must hate me, too. But I don’t want him to break it. So I have to make it properly.

Okay.

Iris stood up. “It’s time to make the vest and the leather shoes.”

“Oh, please do.” The young heir nodded with his usual cool smile.

Yeah, that’s all I can do right now, Iris whispered to herself. But it wasn’t with a feeling of resignation. The thought was more of a rousing one.

She was going to make armor. It wouldn’t be very strong armor, it wouldn’t be attuned to the young heir’s stats, and she’d failed and failed and wasted so much. But this was all that she could make. She just had to do it.

Several hours later, at last, the full armor was complete.

Glasgobara was unusually lively that night, the result of the quarrel between the Machina and the Dragonet several days before.

The aggregate blog’s coverage meant that a great number of people learned about it without firsthand knowledge of what had happened. At some point, they had begun treating it like a major Glasgobara event. It had been over a month since the last Grand Quest, after all, and the players were itching for some action.

There were also a lot of front-line achievers who relied on the Akihabara Forging Guild. The result was that main street was currently dotted with avatars dressed in the sort of high-level equipment you didn’t often see in the mid-level merchant town. They had returned there with a feeling of nostalgia.

It had been three days since Edward had started the trouble at the Iris Brand guild house, which meant that today was the day Ichiro had said that his armor would be complete. The middle-aged knight had politely delivered a message to Glasgobara UDX Workshop that Tsuwabuki’s armor had been finished, and that had accelerated the situation even further.

“You’re stupid. You’re so stupid...” Iris muttered.

“When you say those words, it just sounds like ‘fine weather we’re having’ to me.”

Needless to say, this exchange was Iris and Ichiro.

It was taking place on the guild house’s second floor as the two of them watched the crowds forming on main street below. Spectators had surrounded the house, curious to see this new “armor” of Ichiro Tsuwabuki’s. The message boards had been full of posts in support of Edward, but in the end, most of the people here had primarily come to rubberneck. It was clear that their motivation wasn’t anger at Ichiro’s hubris, but pure schadenfreude: a desire to see him reduced to a laughingstock.

There was no reason to take such mob mentality personally.

Ichiro looked at himself in the vanity he’d set up in the room. He was covered from head to toe with the equipment Iris had designed. Its defensive values weren’t very high relative to Ichiro’s level, but it did offer him quite a lot of Skill slots. He could have gotten more Skill slots if that had been his priority, but to Ichiro, the design components had been what was most important.

“We’ll be like lambs to the slaughter out there...” Iris muttered.

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Ichiro said. “Such is the way of all works of art. And this really is very good armor. I liked it quite a lot in your design sketches, but it looks even better on me.”

“That’s true,” she admitted. The young heir really did seem happy about it.

“Now, Iris. Let’s go out there.”

“Um, no... I-I think I really am too embarrassed, or... terrified...” Iris was cringing. “Couldn’t you just go out alone?”

“I think it’s better to go out with the designer. I’d like you to explain the design, you see.”

“Not a chance!” She didn’t know why she was so hesitant, but it brought feelings of shame and regret surging up from the depths of her heart. Somewhere in her mind were voices saying, “I thought you had confidence in your design,” and, “This is your chance to get everyone to acknowledge you,” but she wanted to smother them down.

It was all my fault. Please don’t be so mean to me. I just have no self-confidence. I’m always on the verge of being crushed by the weight of my own pride.

But the young heir’s encouraging smile did not falter.

Yes, this was the proverbial “face of self-confidence,” Iris thought. He didn’t need a basis for it. He could be flipped over with one motion of a lever, and whether he ended up facing up or down, he’d always know he was still himself. Iris couldn’t be that way.

But that was okay; she didn’t want to become insufferable.

In this moment, though, she had no other choice.

She let out a sigh. Her “luck” stat, which reset every time she logged in, decreased. If she had to go out, she would go. Grumbling about it wouldn’t change anything.

She’d ride on the life raft of his insufferability. No matter what else, the young heir had acknowledged her. Even if all of humanity said no, as long as one unshakable yes remained, it was still worth sticking with.

“If I become a laughingstock, will you take responsibility?” Iris asked.

“Oh, certainly not,” he retorted. “If people want to laugh, let them laugh. Which has more value: the no of all of humanity, or the yes from me?”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” she said.

Just then, the workshop door opened with a clack.

“Well, is it all settled?”

The stern Knight Kirschwasser entered with his usual impeccable timing. Iris had to wonder if he’d been spying on them. He was carrying a tray with a teapot, cups, and saucers on top of it.

“Hello, Sir,” Ichiro commented. “How are the people outside doing?”

“Well, they’re happy with their tea.”

Had Kirschwasser been serving tea to everyone? She wondered where he’d found enough cups...

“Mr. Kirsch, can I have tea, too?” Iris asked. “I’ll drink it before I go.”

“Perhaps I’ll have a cup, as well,” Ichiro added.

“I had a feeling you might ask.” Kirschwasser poured their cups of tea while balancing the tray on one hand. Anyone could perform the act with a high enough “Tea Ceremony” Skill, but Iris suspected Kirschwasser’s player was used to doing this sort of waiter-y stuff anyway. Even the act of handing the cup upon the saucer to her was done with perfect grace.

The scent of mysterious herbs calmed Iris’s heart.

She gave a small nod and brought the teacup quietly to her lips. Okay, I can do this.

A large crowd of rubberneckers had formed in front of the UDX Workshop. The ever self-righteous Edward couldn’t understand why people were so curious about something that was none of their business.

Bossman had said he would be on late that day because of work. It hadn’t just been that day; this had been going on for several days lately. Edward knew that Bossman ran a computer parts shop in the real world. Apparently, he’d managed to land a major account, and it had been keeping him rather busy.

Edward used a PC in his own real-life job, and he had wanted to visit Bossman’s shop. But when he suggested it, he’d been laughed down with the words “Never mix RL and the game.” Yet, when he’d wanted to expand his memory and asked Bossman about estimates, Bossman had just said, “You’ve been working so hard lately, let me send you a good one.”

Edward respected him deeply. Bossman had once told him with a smile that he’d never graduated from high school, yet Edward found him better a man than himself, who had worked so fervently to graduate from college. He wondered what Bossman would think if he knew what he was trying to do now, about the situation he had found himself in.

He didn’t want to think about it. The boss would surely be mad at him — and that was the best-case scenario. He might even lose all respect for Edward.

Ah, but he probably already knew about it. Whether in real life or in the game, Bossman was always checking the bigger message boards in his spare time. Even if he was only checking sporadically, he had surely already been informed about the current situation. Feelings of self-loathing swirled within Edward, but he didn’t know how to force himself to grow up. He could not forgive that man for what he’d done, and that was the fact of the matter.

Edward had often been told that he was lacking in flexibility. But while he knew he needed to fix that, he wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. He didn’t know what that man had been looking for when he had asked to have armor made, but whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine how an Alchemist — who couldn’t even create low-level armor — could be the one to make it.

Things he couldn’t understand tended to hasten his displeasure.

Edward stood in front of the UDX Workshop, arms folded, appraising the current circumstances. There was a Knight handing out tea to the crowd. He had come to offer Edward a cup, as well, but Edward had refused him. The Knight had looked slightly hurt by that.

“You’re way too serious, Ed,” an Anthromorph guild member told him while sipping his own cup of tea.

Though of the Anthromorph race, he was more like a “kemono-mimi,” a human with animal ears. The race options let them change their tail and claws, and choose from a wide range of eyeset parts. Anthromorphs also tended towards physical classes and combat-oriented stats, so it was rare to see players of that race choose crafting classes.

“It’s only a game, so you should just take it easy,” the Anthromorph continued. “Like everyone else.”

“Even if I take it easy, there are some things I just can’t let slide,” Edward said stiffly.

“Yeah... I guess that’s just who you are. Ah, well.” The laid-back Anthromorph took a slurp from his teacup. “Oh, they’re coming out.”

He was right. The door to the guild house across the way had opened. The commotion among the onlookers died down, and magical lamps began lighting up with a loud Pop! Pop! A tune began to play, sounding like light jazz, and the man of the hour, the Dragonet Magi-Fencer, appeared from within. There was even show smoke billowing out of the door.

What on Earth? Edward’s mouth dropped open, while the Anthromorph man by his side started laughing his head off.

“Ha ha ha! What the hell is that?”

A similar feeling was disseminating through the crowd. The unexpected showiness of his entrance had prompted a chain of laughter that seemed self-perpetuating. The Elf Alchemist walked out behind the Dragonet man, eyes downcast and face bright red.

Of course, Edward could not have predicted this development, either. This was... This was almost like...

Edward shook his head and squinted at the man’s equipment. As far as he could tell, these weren’t existing game graphics. They weren’t just superficial textures pasted on to the surface of existing graphics, either. They were completely unfamiliar models.

“It’s just ordinary clothing,” his Anthromorph guild companion said, aptly.

Yes, that was right.

Slacks and a jacket. And beneath the jacket, a vest and dress shirt. There was a bit of blue in the coloring, but what was really eye-catching was the luminous sheen on both pieces, like the smooth luster of an insect.

Faint yellowish speckles ran down the shoulders to the chest, mimicking the markings on a butterfly’s wings. A blue butterfly brooch was pinned to his chest.