A Blessing in Disguise

The atmosphere in the room was unbearably heavy.

What everyone had assumed would be a routine hearing about a game had turned into absolute chaos the moment the live broadcast went up and the High Inquisitors made their entrance.

The thirteen High Inquisitors seated at the witness stand stared back at the gazes of the Senate's nobles without so much as a flicker of expression.

Duratus had gone pale, and the woman called "Mother" was trembling all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over.

The only ones enjoying themselves were—

—the Soul Net users in the comment feed, and them alone.

"I am Akram, High Inquisitor of the Holy Fire Order. I have come as the representative of the thirteen Inquisitors of the Seven Orders gathered here today."

The Senate President watched Inquisitor Akram speak with a weary, irritation-laced expression.

"You claimed your son was injured during an attempted demon summoning, did you not? That is no ordinary matter. Woman. State the affiliation and name of the Order priest who treated your son. From the standpoint of the Seven Orders, this is something we absolutely must know."

At Akram's words, the woman squeezed her eyes shut.

As for Tribune Duratus, every trace of that bold front he'd put up moments ago had vanished; he was wiping sweat in silence.

"That... I cannot disclose."

That was what Duratus finally managed to choke out after a very long pause.

"And why is that?"

"The child has already completed his exorcism ritual. To prevent him from being branded, protective measures have been taken at the mother's own request. And once such protective measures are in place, revealing the child's identity or the priest who performed the exorcism is forbidden. Is that not correct?"

High Inquisitor Akram gave a slow nod.

"Indeed, such protection may be granted upon a guardian's petition. You know the discipline of the Seven Orders quite well, Tribune Duratus."

"This was never a matter that warranted High Inquisitors in the first place! This is simply a question of review standards for a game! The High Inquisitors may return to their duties now!"

"That we cannot do. The very claim of a demon summoning attempt is a grave matter. If it were proven that playing the game truly had a decisive influence on a demon summoning—Tribune Duratus, even if you object, we would stand against Elsie Bwener and the Black Magic Tower."

Inquisitor Akram's voice was quiet and calm.

Which made it all the more terrifying.

"But if you have spoken falsely, then you stand guilty of perjury against the Orders, along with the crime of impersonating their authority. And so we intend to verify everything before we leave."

"What more! What more is there to verify? Isn't this matter already closed!"

"It is not closed. You there. Woman."

Inquisitor Akram turned his gaze on the mother.

The mother flinched.

"I will not pry into your child, nor the priest who performed his exorcism. So simply show us the mark on your arm. Any member of the Seven Orders—if a young child is involved with a demon summoning, a mark would have been placed on you as his guardian. If we merely confirm that mark, we will accept your testimony as true and take our leave."

Tribune Duratus convulsed yet again.

"You would gaze upon a woman's bare flesh! Is that the law of the Seven Orders?"

"Irrelevant. I have no intention of looking at any bare flesh. Simply extend to us the part of you where the mark was placed. It is a portion verifiable through holy magic. So, woman—if your words are truly the truth, show us the marked portion. You are not about to tell us there is no mark, I trust?"

The nobles in the gallery could no longer sit there nodding along and trading approving murmurs either.

Every citizen of the Empire and everyone across the Wirod Dimension was watching this unfold, and the Orders' High Inquisitor, having seen enough, had come in person and was demanding verification of the facts.

Duratus began to shake, and the woman called "Mother" began to weep.

"The m-mark, that is.......... I-I don't have one."

Inquisitor Akram's expression twisted.

"No mark, you say. The child was injured attempting a demon summoning, yet the priest who led the exorcism did not even place the investigative mark on you, his guardian. Do the priests of the Seven Orders look like fools to you?"

"Any one of the Seven Orders' priests would have placed the mark. Whoever failed to place one has no right to call himself an Order priest!"

"'No mark'? Does that even qualify as an excuse! Does it!"

The Inquisitors' reactions erupted, and—

—the comment feed duly exploded as well.

And it was I who drove in the final nail.

"Very well then. Tribune Duratus, and you, madam. Let's say the Order priest failed to place a mark and let the whole thing slide. It's an absurd claim, to be sure—but that's your assertion, so let's run with it. In that case, here is what we'll do. Please state your child's Soul World nickname."

At those words, the mother blinked.

"A Soul World nickname?"

"To play Doom's Hell Slayer, one must purchase and spend Mana Fruits. And to spend Mana Fruits, a Soul Page must have been created on Soul World. Which means there would be a nickname attached to that Soul Page. Please state it. We will use that nickname to verify whether the game was purchased and whether it was played."

".........."

"We need to know exactly how long the game ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was played—long enough, allegedly, that the demons appearing in it inspired a summoning attempt—so that next time we can prevent such an incident. Or not, as the case may be. Am I wrong? Please state the nickname. If you don't know the nickname, then at least state the name. We will conduct an investigation with that."

The mother remained silent.

Now even the nobles of the Senate had begun to murmur.

Duratus wore the expression of a man who knew he had to say something but had no idea what that something should be.

A brief silence settled over the room.

And the one who broke it was a single line from me.

"Your child never played the game, did he? Even if he had played it and truly been so moved as to attempt a summoning, the fake magic circle we embedded in the game wouldn't have activated. Far from summoning a demon, it wouldn't have triggered so much as the effect of a 1st Level spell."

"I, I......... um........."

"To put it in a single sentence—you lied, didn't you? Whether the lie is that he never played the game, or that a demon summoning was ever attempted, I can't say. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠But you lied. Isn't that right? And either way, madam—you are now in danger."

High Inquisitor Akram slowly began to wreath both arms in Divine Power.

At the sight, the mother's face went white as bone.

"Invoking demon summoning was a poor choice. The Seven Orders may be lax about many things, but where such matters are concerned, they are an organization with absolutely no intention of letting things slide. It's a fact anyone would know after visiting any of the Orders' Galleries and reading a few posts."

I stopped there.

Because from this point on, things would resolve—

"T-Tribune Duratus! Tribune Duratus put me up to all of it! I-I only said what I was told to say! P-please spare me! I was wrong!"

"You insane woman! Slander! I never did any such thing!"

—entirely on its own, that much was obvious.

And even if they tried to deny it now—

"Senate President. I will be taking these two into custody for perjury against the Orders. As you are well aware, false claims of demon summoning are a serious crime. If you remember the wretched history of those condemned as witches and black mages and executed, I trust you will not stand in the way of these arrests."

".........Take them. High Inquisitor Akram."

—it was late. Far too late.

Tribune Duratus had probably been nothing more than the token frontman—the face on the poster.

The true culprits were the nobles of the Senate assembled here.

And this was only my cautious guess, but it might even have been the Emperor.

Because they were the true players—the ones who genuinely wanted to slip a collar around Soul Net's neck and tear into it.

But establishing a censorship board required a reasonably strong pretext, and so, knowing full well the danger, they'd have dredged up excuses about demon summoning and the like to summon me.

And in all likelihood, that strategy would actually have worked.

If I hadn't brought the weapon of a live broadcast and chosen to expose everything before all creation—if I'd left it to a closed board where insiders schemed among their own—they would all have cheerfully clapped their hands together and voted to establish the game censorship board.

Every last one of the absurd circumstances I'd exposed—especially that ridiculous scenario where a six-year-old supposedly performed a black-mage-grade demon summoning from an in-game screen that contained nothing but a botched magic circle—would probably have been brushed aside with an eye-roll and papered over.

Because these were people who didn't need the truth. They needed an excuse.

To put it bluntly, if this hadn't been a live broadcast, there would have been no reason whatsoever for someone of the Seven Orders' High Inquisitor caliber to watch the hearing, jump in via jump point, and suddenly put his seal of approval on everything.

And without the High Inquisitor's appearance, Duratus would have slithered out like an eel on the strength of all the rhetoric he'd prepared, and in the end pushed through exactly what he wanted.

So I had won—but this was not where it would end.

The Senate and the Imperial household, with the masterminds plainly visible behind the curtain.

From where I stood, they were scheming dogs I'd love to see gored—but what could I do?

I'd thoroughly humiliated them by burning down their frontman, which meant it was now my turn to restore their face.

No matter what, the hearing had to run a minimum of three days.

In accordance with that principle,

the third day's hearing was held with a live broadcast as well.

And this time, unlike day two, I shifted my stance to one of placating the Senate.

"Please withdraw the proposal to establish a review board. This was never a matter that warranted one in the first place. Would you not agree?"

"However, the medium of the game must not be allowed to spread unchecked among young children. Are its expressions not excessively coarse and cruel?"

"I understand your concern. But if a state institution steps in to review and censor, that would be using the ox-slaughtering blade on chickens. And so we will review and regulate internally, on our own. We will divide games into ratings according to their type, expression, and depiction, and provide warnings in advance."

"You intend to institute a ratings system. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes. I am fully aware of the Senate's concern. And I will not claim the concerns you raise are unfounded. I will take the appropriate measures—so I ask only that power and law refrain from censoring and suppressing free creation."

I took a step back.

I knew the Senate's concerns, after all—so I would implement ratings-based reviews and attach warnings to games.

It was a proposal that preserved the other side's face while, from the Black Magic Tower's standpoint, blocking the absolute worst outcome: the founding of a censorship board.

And fortunately,

the other side took a step back as well, and accepted my gesture.

And so, on the third day of the hearing—

"The game review board establishment bill proposed by Tribune Duratus is hereby formally withdrawn."

We had narrowly escaped having the collar snapped around our necks.

And so we returned to the Black Magic Tower, battered and half in ruins.

"Those damn Senate nobles! And the Imperial household too! Every single one of them, trying to regulate us at every turn!"

"It rubs ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them wrong, doesn't it. Us spreading without a single restriction or limit—they can hardly stand the sight of it."

"They let it slide this time, but from now on they'll sink their teeth in whenever an excuse presents itself. Exhausting creatures, every one of them."

The meeting room.

Everyone was trading a word or two of back-fence gossip about the Senate when—

I alone was chuckling quietly, gazing at a Soul Net window.

At my laughter, they all turned to look at me.

"What is it, Elsie?"

"It doesn't look all that bad to me, actually. The hearing gave us some proper advertising, wouldn't you say?"

"What do you mean?"

At that, I carefully turned the screen toward them and showed everyone the gallery posts displayed on the Soul Net window.

To say it once more:

The best advertising in the world was banning something.

Thanks to the hearing, Doom's Hell Slayer had effectively received advertising on a scale never seen before, and the result—

"W-wait just a moment. You're telling me game sales grew by nearly a million copies during the three days of the hearing?!"

"Honestly, I think we ought to send Tribune Duratus a thank-you gift. Truly a KAHAKHAKHA-worthy situation, wouldn't you say?"

"PUHAHAHA! Now THAT is stepping in it properly! Who knew it would advertise itself like this!"

Doom's Hell Slayer was now enjoying unprecedented commercial success.

But that was merely a side effect.

The hearing had, in effect, served as one enormous advertisement for the very concept of video.

Rubbing my hands together, I let out a laugh as I browsed the gallery reactions.

"Everyone. I guarantee you—Soul Net is about to grow vastly larger off the back of this."

The mood had ripened enough.

It was time for the video platform to make its debut.

And while I was bleeding myself dry working to satisfy the video platform demand that had skyrocketed thanks to the hearing's live broadcast—

—the next contender who would devour the gaming industry was quietly beginning to reveal itself.