Chapter 2

0831 Revised

0916 Revised

1117 Revised

I was having a nostalgic dream.

It was about the first time I met the old man.

Back then, I was still in high school and was rather full of myself.

I had been there since the early days of the RFC service and was already in the high-level range at that time. Without realizing it, I was becoming a nasty guy who was getting a bit too cocky.

In other words, I had a case of "chu-ni disease" (middle school second-year syndrome).

To make an excuse, it's not that I ever looked down on low-level players.

It was just that I had reached a point where I could no longer see the fun in anything other than getting stronger.

Stronger, stronger. I would stake out areas where monsters frequently spawned and hunt them down in a businesslike manner.

And then, I would level up and equip better gear.

It had become a routine.

I did feel a sense of accomplishment in leveling up, and the praise from my party members when we joined up was satisfying. But if I were to be asked if I was enjoying the game itself, I would have to tilt my head in thought even now.

I only formed parties with players in the same level range. I thought anyone else would just be a hindrance. Even when I did form a party, I only thought about efficiency. So, I fulfilled my role in the party reliably. I stood at the front, attracting and defeating as many enemies as possible.

I didn't intend to impose my way of playing on others, but naturally, the people I played with tended to be the usual suspects who were used to my style.

When we formed a party, we would exchange a light greeting and decide on the day's hunting ground. Once we decided, we would continue hunting endlessly. Our conversations were limited to necessary information, a simplicity that might even be described as cold.

There were times when I got bored with the monotonous hunting.

But the thought that while I was taking a break from hunting, the others might be leveling up rapidly kept me from straying from my way of playing.

It was during this time, just as I was about to head out for another session of hunting solely for the purpose of accumulating experience points, that I received a friend mail.

The sender's name was Remone.

One of the "usual suspects" and the highest-level player I knew. The reason I had been so eager to level up was largely because I wanted to catch up to Remone. I had been wondering why Remone hadn't been joining hunting parties as much lately, and for a moment, I thought this might be an invitation to a party...

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To: Aki

From: Remone

Aki, if you're near the city of Elria,

could you come and help a friend of mine?

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Contrary to my expectations, the content was something entirely different.

"Could you come and help a friend?"

The phrase evoked a feeling of jealousy in my chest at the time.

I instinctively knew that this "friend" was the reason why Remone hadn't been inviting me to parties lately.

Remone, being a high-level player, doesn't casually "help" just anyone.

If a high-level player were to show mercy to a weak player, it could reinforce the notion that "high-level players should help low-level players as a matter of course," leading to freeloaders and beggars. It's a sad reality that good intentions often go unrewarded.

Having experienced this many times, Remone often turns a blind eye to low-level players in trouble.

If asked, Remone might give some advice.

But doing something for someone else, as far as I knew, was almost never the case.

Unless the other person was in the same level range and could "help each other."

The person Remone was asking me to help, someone Remone would go out of his way to request assistance for, someone Remone would prioritize over me for a party.

I became interested in such a person.

And what it would mean for me to "go and help" such a person.

With a mix of jealousy and curiosity, I sent a reply to Remone confirming my willingness to help.

The response came quickly.

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To: Aki

From: Remone

Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it.

I can't leave what I'm doing right

now. It would really help if you could

go and help.

Oh, and you can bill me for any costs

later.

My friend's name is "Isato."

He's probably standing in front of a

store in Elria.

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...Standing in front of a store.

What kind of situation is that?

Perhaps he had taken on a high-difficulty quest but couldn't form a party and was at a loss.

With that thought in mind, I arrived at the store in Elria.

Sure enough, the man was standing there, holding a sign that read "help wanted," looking lost.

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Aki: Hey.

Isato: Hello.

Aki: You're Remone's friend?

Isato: !

Isato: You must be the helper Remone mentioned.

Aki: Yeah, that's me. I'm Aki.

Isato: I'm Isato.

Aki: So, how can I help you?

Isato: Well, it's a bit awkward to ask a stranger... but...

Isato: Could you lend me 100 Eshils?

Aki: ...What?

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"Huh?"

I even said that out loud in real life.

Eshils are the currency used in RFC.

You can get them relatively easily by defeating monsters, selling their drops to NPCs, or selling items to other players through the in-game market.

At my level, a single monster might drop around 1,000 Eshils. So, 100 Eshils is a trivial amount.

And yet, he was asking me to lend him such a small amount...

I realized something.

This guy is a beginner.

Judging from his equipment, he probably hasn't even reached double digits in level.

The man seemed to interpret my "What?" as "Why should I lend you the money?"

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Isato: Well...

Isato: You get the summoning skill at level 8, right?

Isato: I reached level 8, saved up the money to buy the skill scroll, and bought it enthusiastically...

Aki: I get it, I get it.

Isato: (´・ω・｀)

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I got it. I got it.

The man in front of me was a Dark Elf.

Elves have a "summoning" skill that allows them to command a tamed monster to attack enemies.

In RFC, you generally need to purchase a skill scroll to use a skill.

However, you can't just buy it if you have the money; you need to meet certain level and other requirements.

This man must have been overjoyed to meet the conditions and bought the summoning skill scroll.

But then he realized...

The conditions for purchasing the skill and the conditions for using the skill are different...

That's right.

You can buy the summoning skill scroll at level 8.

But you can't actually use the summoning skill until level 10.

It's a trap that many beginners fall into, leading to frustration and despair.

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Isato: I was so eager to use the summoning skill.

Isato: I thought that with the summoning skill, I'd be all set.

Isato: Selling my initial equipment for money was my mistake.

------------------------------------------------------------

I was speechless.

This man had sold all the equipment he received during the initial tutorial to buy the summoning skill scroll—only to end up with no equipment and a skill he couldn't use.

------------------------------------------------------------

Aki: Are you an idiot?

Isato: Ouch... that hurts.

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The wooden sword, the lowest-tier weapon sold in the store, is the cheapest.

Even though I'm a high-level player and Remone, his friend, is a well-known high-level player in the area, this man asked for just enough Eshils to buy a wooden sword, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I initiated a trade with him, inputting exactly 100 Eshils into the trade window. The transaction went smoothly.

------------------------------------------------------------

Isato: Thank you, you really saved me.

Isato: Remone will definitely pay you back for this.

Aki: Nah, 100 Eshils is no big deal.

------------------------------------------------------------

Remone did say to bill him for the costs later, but 100 Eshils wasn't worth the trouble of requesting payment.

------------------------------------------------------------

Isato: Well, let's consider it a long-term loan—...

Isato: I'll pay you back when I can.

------------------------------------------------------------

I could have refused this offer, but seeing him so happy about being able to equip a wooden sword and go on another adventure reminded me of how I felt when I first started playing RFC.

Every time I could access a new map, I was excited.

I was happy when I could equip new gear.

It was fun to be chased by unknown monsters and eventually be able to defeat them.

Thinking that this guy would have many such enjoyable experiences ahead, I felt a bit envious.

"I think I understand how Remone feels."

I muttered that without thinking.

That was how I met the old man.

From then on, I would hear many stories about the old man from Remone.

He would say things like, "That idiot is using up recovery items so fast, he decided to go on a trip to make his own and hasn't come back."

Or, "That idiot leveled up his pet too much and can't use it anymore, so I'm going to help him level up a bit."

Most of the stories about the old man started with "that idiot."

Over time, I started calling Isato "the old man" and ended up teaming up with him for hunts.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.

The heat felt like it was burning my exposed skin, and I sat up abruptly.

Suddenly, a blinding light stabbed at the back of my eyes, and I felt a moment of dizziness, which was unusual for me, a healthy individual.

I had a vague feeling that I had just had a very nostalgic dream.

I rubbed my head, and sand trickled down.

...Sand?

"......"

I looked around, dumbfounded.

This must be a dream. It has to be a dream.

Standing in the middle of a desert couldn't be anything but a dream. It would be a problem if it weren't. I had been playing an online game on my PC at home just a moment ago. Suddenly finding myself stranded in a desert was too absurd.

But.

The scorching sunlight on the back of my neck felt strangely real.

I had a very bad feeling about this.

"No, no, pull yourself together."

I remembered that the warp destination after the RFC tutorial was a desert city.

I must have been thinking about this because I had been playing the game right before I passed out. I even felt like I was playing the game in my dream. It must be a realistic dream because I had been indulging in a gaming spree on a weekday, thinking it was a day off from school.

"......"

"......"

"......"

"......"

No matter how much I tried to escape reality, the situation in front of me didn't change.

Endless sand dunes.

In the distance, a mirage shimmered, and beyond it, I could see what looked like a pyramid.

And there, half-buried in the sand, was a cream-colored lump lying face down.

"......I wonder what the old man is doing."

The equipment looked very familiar.

And when I saw the old man, I realized I was wearing the same equipment as my in-game character.

I had thought it might be a bit tight if I actually wore it, but it wasn't as bad as I expected.

Maybe it's because this is a dream. If so, I'm grateful.

I decided to wake the old man up. Being stranded in the desert alone would be unfair. Whether this is a realistic dream or a dream-like reality, it's better to involve the old man.

Otherwise, I might panic about how to get back to the real world.

I walked over to the old man and gently stepped on his back.

Squish.

"......"

The feeling was strange.

I had often stepped on people to wake them up during club trips, but I had never felt such an unsteady, soft sensation.

Is the old man overweight?

I remembered how the old man, who often complained about his low HP in the game, would claim to be a weak indoor type.

"Old man, wake up."

I stomped on his back like treading grapes.

The back area was too small for that.

"......"

I was starting to have a bad feeling about this.

The first step had already felt squishy, and I had a bad feeling about it.

I squatted down and grabbed the back of the old man's neck.

The slender neck that fit perfectly in my hand only made me feel worse.

I pulled him out of the sand and literally held my head in my hands.

The person I thought was the old man—though dirty with sand, it was a shockingly beautiful young woman.

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The old man, a beautiful woman.

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