Episode 16.5. To Another World (6)
What would happen to Aiden if the game were turned off? It was a question that wouldn't have crossed her mind until recently. If there were no players, it was only natural for the game to stop. Even if it was an online game that didn't shut down, she had never wondered what the NPCs did when no one was watching.
But now? What was Aiden doing at this very moment? A few weeks ago, there had been only one player. What was he feeling as he wandered the story on his own, without relying on any players? What had made a mere NPC seem like a real person, prompting these kinds of worries? And stepping even further from that question—who had planted these changes in a game world everyone else had forgotten about, without anyone noticing?
No player had yet pieced it all together.
Saving the game.
Do not exit the game until saving is complete.
Meanwhile, in a dark room. The only light in this small world came from the faint, dim blue glow of the console device.
Sephirah had escaped the game and returned to her own space.
"……What an awkward time."
The digital clock read 5:06 PM. In winter, the sun would be turning red, edging toward twilight, but now, even pulling back the blinds would reveal only a bright blue sky. Ridiculously, it was one of the times of day Sephirah hated, simply because it was broad daylight.
"Ughhh……."
She interlaced her fingers and stretched out her thin arms, yawning deeply. Having sat in the VR device for so long, the fatigue built up in her body hadn't eased at all. At least her head felt clear—that was a small mercy.
Beep— The tinnitus ringing in her ears was nothing to worry about. It was common right after logging out. What she needed to focus on now was just her routine for the day: bathroom first, a simple meal, maybe move her body a bit, no need to go out, and then... nothing else came to mind. No appointments or anything.
'Don't wanna get up.'
It would have been a perfect day if she'd just been diligent. If she'd mustered the will to jump out of bed right away.
Ding!
At that moment, Sephirah—still seated in the VR device—jumped in surprise at the notification, her body twitching.
Right on cue, someone had called just after she'd logged out. A player: Hasselhoff.
'Heh, still not used to that nickname.'
Sephirah smirked as she checked the sender. As far as she knew, it was named after some famous person from long ago. Fine for an internet handle, sure... but wasn't it a bit too old? If it hadn't stuck in her memory by chance, she wouldn't have even known what it referred to.
Sephirah crossed her legs while lying down and made a gesture of holding a phone to her ear, accepting the call.
—Hello?
Hasselhoff's greeting came through as soon as she accepted.
"Hey, good work today. Thanks to you, way more people showed up than expected."
—Yes......
He'd skipped the polite opener by accident, but Hasselhoff's voice over the call was soft and measured. It sounded surprisingly young, unlike the old man in-game. Sephirah's voice came out different too, relatively closer to her real one.
"By now, even those kids who crashed out earlier are probably yapping on the community forums. This game's not our little secret anymore."
—Some might be mad, asking where the hell the event host is who lured everyone in without knowing anything.
"They'll forget quick if they shut up. It's not like fakeouts like that are new."
—That kinda stings my conscience a bit.
Sephirah brushed it off with a laugh. Why worry about conscience on community sites?
"Oh, were you using your main account? Is that why you're worried?"
—A little, yeah.
"Make a new one. If that bugged you, you should've switched ages ago. Dummy."
—......Yes.
Hasselhoff's reply came after a noticeable delay. Maybe he didn't like the solution? Ignoring it, Sephirah glanced at him carefully before speaking up.
"Anyway, what's up? You didn't call just to chat about that."
—Ah, right. I had something to ask.
Of course. No way Hasselhoff—whoever he was—would bother with a voice call for something he could text.
"Shoot, casually."
—Thanks.
He accepted readily. If it were the dead of night, she'd have made excuses about bedtime, but the timing was perfect.
Hasselhoff asked.
—This might sound weird, but... how does my voice sound to you right now?
"Fine."
—No, I mean...... Like, what language does it sound like I'm speaking?
Sephirah frowned slightly, pondering. He'd called it weird, but she couldn't grasp the intent.
If he weren't speaking English, how would she understand? "English, right?"
—So that's how it sounds? Really?
"......If you're not speaking English, what is it?"
As Sephirah sensed something off, Hasselhoff cleared his throat and spoke.
—Then how about this?
She flinched. The words that came back felt like they were from someone else entirely. The voice was almost the same, but the delivery was starkly different. If they'd been having a normal chat until now, this sounded like a foreigner clumsily learning English.
—How did that sound?
Then it switched back to his usual fluent tone. Too realistic for a foreigner impression. Sephirah asked, impressed.
"Whoa, that really sounded like someone else...... But why?"
Hasselhoff started, unsure how to explain.
—I'm not speaking English right now.
"Huh?"
—I don't even live in an English-speaking country, and if anything, I'm not great with foreign languages. I only used English once, when it sounded like that other voice you mentioned.
"Then what are you speaking now?"
She vaguely recalled him mentioning not living in an English country before. Back then, she'd just marveled at how well they communicated despite that and moved on.
—It's ridiculous, but I've been thinking about it lately......
"Yeah, yeah."
—It feels like my words are being translated for you.
Sephirah calmly sorted through it, trying to understand.
1. Hasselhoff is speaking his native language and doesn't know English well.
2. She's speaking English in response.
3. They should not understand each other.
4. So why is communication flowing smoothly?
If he wasn't pranking her, that had to be it. She knew it didn't make sense, but oddly, she had no urge to deny the phenomenon with rational arguments.
"So, my words get translated for you too?"
—Yes, it sounds like English to me.
"......Wild."
Even this sentence would sound like something else to him. Come to think of it, she'd never mismatched languages with other players before.
'So that's why.'
It was fascinating. But Sephirah lacked the scientific knowledge to dig deeper. She found it odd, wondered how it was possible, questioned if it really defied common sense. But since it was happening right in front of her, she chalked it up to "the tech makes it possible."
"How does this even work?"
—No idea. Don't ask me.
"Fair."
Hasselhoff wasn't much more knowledgeable. Even a genius here probably couldn't explain it.
—And......
"And?"
So Sephirah followed along as his tone perked up mysteriously.
—This isn't just for voice calls. Messages got translated too, right?
"Oh...... Yeah, true."
—So whenever we communicate, it translates. Why us? What makes us special?
What makes us special for this? It wasn't wrong, but it felt belittling. Hasselhoff sensed it and backpedaled in a fluster.
—I mean, we know what brought us to talk like this, right?
"Yeah, the game. Super weird one."
—......I think that's the cause. We met there first, and we've understood each other from the start. Even though...... our languages are different, like I said.
"Oh......?"
Sephirah tossed in a stock response, then realized something bizarre had slipped by. Blaming the game felt like a stretch.
"......That doesn't add up, does it?"
Even if the game had changed drastically without updates.
Even if she'd seen quirky NPCs acting human-like.
Even if they'd never had communication issues from differing languages.
Even if the game was why they called each other by nicknames.
'......Kinda makes sense, though?'
Still.
People romanticize the supernatural but doubt it when faced with it. Blind faith is foolish; even knowing it's impossible, they crave pulling the unknowable into the knowable.
—No, I have a reason for thinking that. I wouldn't say it without evidence.
"Proof?"
—Yes. I don't know why it happens, but.
Hasselhoff, as if expecting doubt, moved to prove it.
"Alright, lay it out."
—Okay...... I'll send a link. Wanna check it out?
Ding. A link from Hasselhoff appeared below the voice call. New site, no virus warning. A quick search showed it was just some foreign community.
Sephirah laughed at herself for suspecting even this, then clicked through.
'Ugh, foreign language as expected.' Probably Hasselhoff's community—full of unreadable characters. Not like alphabet, not Japanese from anime, not complex like kanji. She reached to enable auto-translate.
But just before, the title hit her eyes—perfectly comprehensible.
It was about the "new session" they'd tricked people into today. Plenty more chatter, but these were clearly translated for her to read. Auto-translate was still off.
Limited to just four or five people, but she understood them perfectly.
"What the hell."
For a split second, she thought maybe English comments, but who posts foreign languages in a local community?
—Don't turn on translate first. See? Some posts make sense without it, right?
Hasselhoff spoke up, having heard her mutter.
Sephirah confirmed. "Yeah, these two...... Scrolling down, more."
—They're not in English originally. I don't see a single English letter, but I'll send a screenshot if you want.
"No, no...... It's fine."
Sephirah didn't need his proof. She knew without looking. Despite appearances, everyone here was chatting in the same language.
Fallen for their fake event, welcoming the new game—sharing reactions.
And their common link with her? "People from the new session."
128 players. Among them, those still alive and in the game.
