Episode 44.

Royal Capital IV

Mages are an insular breed, and the Magic Tower where such people gather is, naturally, an insular institution.

Perhaps because of that, the Magic Tower opens to outsiders only twice a week: Tuesdays and Fridays.

'And today, of all days, is Saturday.'

I'd have to wait three more days until Tuesday.

So for now, I decided to take care of my personal errands first.

Actually, I'd wanted to go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the moment I returned to the Royal Capital, but it was quite a distance from where I was staying.

"Is this the carriage for 5th Street?"

"That's right. 500 seed."

I paid the fare without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a word, then rode the carriage for several dozen minutes.

And so, I arrived at my destination.

"Extra! Extra! Pure gold discovered in the 7th Coal Mine District!"

"A prayer service will be held at Abel Cathedral today at one in the afternoon! This faith does not discriminate by status, gender, or age!"

"Flowers for sale! Pretty, fresh flowers picked from outside the Royal Capital! We've got rare ones too—black roses, red lilies, blue daffodils!"

Royal Capital 5th Street. It was a street lined with shops, and seeing it in person, it looked dozens of times bigger and more complicated than I remembered.

'Will I be able to find my way?'

It somehow seemed even more crowded than a modern shopping district on a weekend—enough to make me worry that one wrong turn could waste the entire day.

Honestly, I had no confidence I could find it on my own, so I asked a passerby for directions.

"An antiquarian bookstore? You mean the one run by that crotchety old man?"

"That's right."

"If that's the place, I'll guide you. Follow me."

He was a good-natured, handsome-looking man. Besides his looks, he was also quite tall—probably over 190 centimeters.

"Just telling me the direction would be enough."

"It's fine. I'm headed that way anyway. Let's go."

I followed behind the man and thought.

'Should I give him something for his trouble?'

I didn't have much to spare, so I couldn't give a lot. Still, I figured I should press at least 1,000 seed into his hand to avoid any hard feelings.

With that thought, I followed behind the man, but.......

"......."

Somehow, we seemed to be heading into an increasingly secluded area.

I swept my gaze over the typical back-alley scenery, then called out to the man.

"Excuse me."

"......."

"Hey?"

"Hm?"

"Is the antiquarian bookstore really in a place like this?"

Without looking back, the man replied in a flat tone.

"Ahh. This is a shortcut."

"Is that so."

"Yeah. If you keep going straight through here, you come right out. Just trust me and follow."

This time, instead of replying, I shut my mouth.

After that, I followed the man without conversation, keeping my guard up, and our footsteps headed deeper into a dark, damp place.

And then.......

"Here! We've arrived."

......We arrived at the antiquarian bookstore.

"......."

If that was a twist, then I suppose it was a twist.

The tension drained out of me in an instant, and something like a sigh escaped.

Seeing that, the man tilted his head.

"What's wrong? Isn't that it? An antiquarian bookstore with no sign that looks like it never gets any customers."

"Yes. That's the place."

"Right? Where else would you find a place like that?"

The man nodded, satisfied, and smiled faintly.

"Well, I'm off. Have a good day."

"Ah. Wait a moment. Let me give you something for your trouble......."

"Forget it. No need for thanks over something like this."

And with that, he left like a shot.

"Hm......."

I really should rein in this habit of being so suspicious of people.

I shook off the thought and headed toward the antiquarian bookstore.

The musty smell of dust and cigarette smoke mingled together and stung my nose. Beneath a flickering lightbulb, old bookshelves stood in suffocatingly narrow rows.

Maybe it was the books shoved in haphazardly with no regard for genre, subject, or size. There barely seemed to be room for one person to squeeze through.

'So this is what it's like.'

The game's version hadn't rendered the inside of the antiquarian bookstore, so I hadn't known. Seeing it in person...... it was far shabbier than I'd expected.

Step.

First, I went deeper inside. Passing through the cramped corridor of bookshelves, I came to an open space at the end, like a wooden platform.......

And on top of it, an old man was puffing on a pipe with a newspaper spread open in front of him.

"I've come to look at books."

"......."

No answer.

I took one step closer and spoke a little louder.

"Can you hear me? I said I've come to look at books."

"Ehh?"

Only then did the old man lower his newspaper and look at me.

His face was perfectly ordinary. With those glasses, if his clothes had just been a bit neater, he could have passed for an elderly scholar.

"Whaaat?"

"I. Came. To. Look. At. Books."

"Books. Ahh. Boo—ks."

The old man seemed hard of hearing and couldn't make out what I was saying.

The old man nodded to himself a few times, then turned his gaze back to the newspaper. Muttering something under his breath.

'So I'm supposed to just look on my own, then.'

They called it an antiquarian bookstore, but it felt more like a modern secondhand bookshop. I left the old man behind and turned my attention to the shelves.

"......."

It was daunting.

In the game, all I had to do was open the shop window and scroll down, and the list wasn't even that long.

But seeing it in person....... Tiny or not, an antiquarian bookstore was still an antiquarian bookstore.

'There have to be at least a few thousand books here.'

There was no way to search the books like in the real world, and no librarian who could be called a human search engine.

In other words, the only way to find the book I wanted was to check them one by one.

'No way I'm getting through all of them today.'

It seemed more efficient to stop by the antiquarian bookstore whenever I had spare time.

I calmly decided to start by scanning the bookshelf at the very end. But then.

'......How am I supposed to read this?'

There were plenty of characters I couldn't read at all, and the condition of the books was even worse than I'd expected. The covers were tattered, and yellowed discoloration would have been the least of it.

Some books had more than half their pages torn out, and others had more scribbles than actual content, as if they'd been used as scratch paper.

'This is insane.'

Could I even find ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the book I wanted in an environment like this?

For reference, the books I was after at the antiquarian bookstore fell broadly into two categories.

'First, <Skill Book>s.'

As the name suggests, they're books that let you learn skills.

Of course, most contain trash skills I wouldn't learn even if you paid me, but occasionally you can find a genuinely valuable book. What I was after right now wasn't a Skill Book, though.

'Old books containing information about the forest.'

Some special locations in the forest are impossible to enter unless you obtain information about them in advance.

In the game, I remembered the relevant map itself simply staying locked.

'Now that it's reality, these old books probably contain clues leading to those areas.'

Naturally, these special areas also exist near the forest entrance. If you can get into one, it's a prime hunting ground several times more efficient than normal.

'No easy shortcut, huh?'

I slid the book back into place and reached toward the bottom shelf of the bookcase. That was when I spotted a single book jutting out on its own.

I wondered why, so I took a closer look. This book alone had been shelved horizontally. No wonder it stuck out by itself. I pulled it out to check.

'The condition isn't bad.'

The pitch-black cover had nothing written on it, and the book itself was on the thin side.

About the size of a picture book.

But the moment I opened it, my blood ran cold.

Are you enjoying the game?

Translated, it meant, 'Are you enjoying the game?'

'No way.'

It could simply be a line from a novel, but if so, it was chillingly well-timed.

Reflexively, I closed the book and checked the cover. I'd assumed nothing was written on it, but on the lower back cover, the author's name was written in small letters.

J. B. Chris.

Chris.

At that moment, the back of my head suddenly itched. As if loosening my joints, I pressed firmly on the nape of my neck and naturally turned my head.

"......."

I saw the old man sitting on the platform, his face hidden behind the newspaper. I couldn't see his eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because of the light reflecting off his glasses, but.......

'That old man.......'

Had he been observing me?

Several possibilities flashed through my mind. Some were so far-fetched I'd have no defense if someone called me delusional....... At times like this, though, I always assumed the worst.

'Think.'

What's the most natural thing to do in this situation?

I quickly ran through my options, then suddenly scowled and muttered.

"What kind of book is this?"

Grumbling, I flipped through it quickly, as if skimming a book I had no interest in.

And in the middle of doing that.

"......."

My eyes nearly stopped on one particular page, but I barely managed to turn past it naturally.

Then I slid the book back onto the shelf, picked up a few other books, and headed toward the platform.

"How much for these three?"

The books I'd chosen were a history of the kingdom, a guide to the Royal Capital's major attractions, and finally, a novel with an eye-catching cover.

The old man spoke without even looking at me.

"300 seed."

Absurdly cheap.

This matched my memory.

They were used books, after all, so it was a flat 100 seed per book regardless of condition or thickness.

I paid and was about to turn away when the old man spoke in an offhand voice.

"Come again."

"......."

Had the antiquarian bookstore owner ever said something like that?

I had nothing particular to say in response, so I gave a slight nod and left the antiquarian bookstore.

'Is this the right call?'

Should I turn back right now and buy that black-covered book after all?

The thought crossed my mind for a moment, but I soon shook my head. The risk was too great. What if it was a trap?

'There's too little information.'

The line written in the book had seemed like it was aimed squarely at me, but in reality, the odds of that were low.

What if I hadn't stopped by that antiquarian bookstore?

Even if I had, wasn't it possible I might have missed that black book and just walked past it?

But separate from that, the book's contents had shown me a new possibility.

'In this world, there might be other Players besides me.'

At least one. Possibly dozens or more.

When I'd quickly skimmed the black book, most of the pages were scrawled in illegible handwriting.......

But like the first page, there were also phrases whose meaning was clear.

At the time of the full moon, let us meet again in the Land of Mire.

The Land of Mire.

Its full name was <Land of Backflowing Mire>.

A region in the middle reaches of the forest, and a map every Player has to visit at least once.

Why?

Simple. Because there's a feature that only unlocks once you visit that place.

'Multiplayer.'

I had said that <FoS> was "a game played solo in most cases."

In other words, <FoS> does have a way to interact with other Players.

That's right.

<Land of Backflowing Mire>—

Once you set foot in that region, the multiplayer feature unlocks.