I Didn't Know That (4)

The Inquisitor gripped her shield and mace tightly as she watched the man melt into the darkness. The sense of duty that refused to let him leave like this, and the displeasure that had twisted across his face, both caught at her ankles and held her fast.

"Archmage, what... what should we do now?"

"Hmm. Well. Even this old man has never faced a situation quite like this."

"We cannot simply let him go. He is already that strong. If a demon were to consume him..."

"Do you truly believe that man would be consumed by a demon?"

"...Personally, I hope not. But..."

"I know. Hopes and reality are often very different things."

Perhaps he had read a great deal from her silence. The Archmage stroked his chin, then snapped his fingers.

"For now, I shall mark the young man. We will give it some time... then make contact again under the guise of coincidence. Forcing our way after him now and provoking him would only be a poor move."

"...Understood."

It was the most workable compromise they could manage.

"...So I've arrived."

I made the vow at the city gate I had finally reached. Just watch me walk on my own two feet again, you Deep Sea bastards.

"......"

Walking the entire day was one thing. Maybe because I had done it myself, what should have been an eight-hour day felt like a full real-time day, but I could tolerate that.

No. I could not tolerate it.

What kind of prank was this insane Deep Sea Pearl pulling? Sure, when I get absorbed in a game I tend to lose track of time, but not so badly that I mistake eight hours for twenty-four...!

Still, fine. That part was actually a plus, so I could endure it. For a gamer who has to look after real life as well, a short session that somehow feels long is never a bad thing.

But what kind of game implements drowsiness and fatigue on top of everything else? Fullness I can understand—plenty of games do that—but sleep? That I refuse to accept.

Or is this their roundabout way of saying "don't hunt for twenty-four hours straight"? So they know they made the game too realistic, huh?

And this is how they choose to regulate it? If that's the case, just ban full-dive completely instead of pissing off people who spent a fortune preparing for it...!

There were even bugs. In the dirt, between the grass, up in the trees!

The optimization was so good that nothing lagged even once, but this was an utter waste of technical power.

Do you have any idea how I felt when I dozed off for a moment in the forest only to feel a bug crawl into my back? Do you, you rotten Pearl bastards?

Turning my trash game into a god-tier game was great, but this is going way too far!

"Huh? You're already back...?"

I looked at Registrar Iseren's face and could not force a single word out.

"...Check it."

Too much has happened. I'm exhausted for real.

"Why a snake... Wait—no way!"

Still, I could not cry while trying to keep up appearances. I tossed the snake onto the counter in front of the registrar and dropped into the chair provided for clients.

"Medusa... so it was a Medusa. That explains..."

Ah. Full-dive or not, I just want to log out. This is the first time a game has been so well made that I want to quit it.

At this rate, I feel like the fatigue will still be there even after I log out. My personal creed is that a game must never affect real life, but Deep Sea Pearl seems determined to ruin that.

"We will need to keep monitoring the forest situation just in case, but... it appears correct."

Even so, actually quitting would waste the money I already spent. Full-dive fluid is expensive, and if you leave mid-dive you have to replace the whole tank.

It was a truly pitiful situation. My trash game became a god-tier game, only it became so god-tier that I want to die. Damn it.

"The moment we verify authenticity we will complete the commission and issue the reward. Well done, Adventurer."

Ba-bam-bam!

On top of everything, a bright, cheerful BGM smacked my ears. It was not particularly pleasant.

Right now my head felt as foggy as if I had truly pulled an all-nighter, and my eyelids were heavy. Even a pure fun-gamer would have trouble enjoying themselves in this condition.

"Um... you look exhausted. Would you like a recommendation for an inn?"

An inn recommendation? Sure, why not. Originally I had planned to head to the place the merchant company arranged, but staying somewhere different could be a fresh experience.

"Kon!"

"Yes!"

At the registrar's call, the very first child I had met when I started the game came scampering over.

"Would you escort the Adventurer to the White Wind Inn?"

"Yes! Leave it to me!"

The boy looked livelier and more energetic than before. I, on the other hand, had grown worn and exhausted in the meantime.

"Um... did you defeat a demon, Adventurer?"

"...Yeah."

"What kind of demon was it? What did it look like? Was it really strong?"

The boy, less timid than last time, cautiously struck up conversation. It was a pity. On any other day I would have answered within the bounds of my concept, but right now I simply could not.

"A demon is not a subject one discusses for amusement."

I dropped the single line in a voice like ice. Just as I intended, the boy flinched and shut his mouth.

"...I'm sorry."

Aaaagh! You have nothing to apologize for!! The adult should be the one apologizing!! If you were a real-life kid I might be different, but I'm not a big enough person to show kindness even to an NPC boy... I'm sorry...!

I writhed under the weight of my private guilt all the way to the inn. Fortunately—or perhaps not—the boy, despite my prickly attitude, still buttered up the innkeeper by asking him to take good care of the Adventurer before leaving.

He was a truly wonderful kid who could set personal feelings aside.

"...! Thank you!"

And I was a thoroughly un-wonderful adult who could only express praise through a tip...

"...Maybe I should quit."

I handed the boy a generous tip and staggered into the inn room, wrestling with the thought.

I had to. The NPCs' colorful reactions made the roleplay fun, but the game itself was wearing me down far too much.

It no longer felt like playing a game so much as living an extreme job experience. Even with nostalgia and gratitude layered on top, that impression was hard to shake.

"Haa..."

No... maybe I'm only thinking this because my fatigue is maxed out right now. Of course the game company that made me feel it this realistically is the worst of the lot...

I face-planted onto ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the bed. A window slid smoothly into view.

I set the count to a reasonable six hours. I planned to sleep first and then decide—whether to keep playing or not. Experience had taught me that decisions made while exhausted are usually the ones you regret.

Ah... come to think of it, I still need to wipe the blood off my body...

They made equipment auto-clean over time, so why leave the stuff stuck to hair and skin...?

Unfortunately, by the time the thought crossed my mind I had already pressed the sleep button, and my vision went dark almost at once.

I have to wake up.

My eyes snapped open. The light spilling through the window was weaker than when I had fallen asleep, so it was probably the middle of the night. A silence so complete that not even a cricket ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chirped filled my ears.

More importantly, had my detection skill just sent an alert?

...I never opened any windows in the first place.

I stopped blinking and grabbed the sword I had left beside me. Thud! A heavy blow crashed down onto the blade I had raised on pure reflex.

A chill raced down my spine. The presence behind me was so clear it was amazing I had only just noticed it.

"Damn it!"

A voice I had never heard before spat a curse. That was exactly what I wanted to say. This useless skill only rang once the enemy was right on top of me.

"Die!"

The heavy object that had struck the two-hander bounced off, then came flying back with a whistle of air and a surge of killing intent.

Naturally I had no reason to simply take it. I snapped my upper body upright. My eyes, adapting to the dark as only a game character's could, painted the surroundings in sharp relief.

Wham!

The club smashed into the now-empty bed. I twisted my risen torso and spun toward the attacker.

Then I swung the two-hander at him. The awkward stance meant little power went into the blow, but it was enough to carve a chunk of flesh from the enemy.

"Gah!"

The man clutched his chest and staggered back. The moment distance opened, the advantage tilted firmly my way.

I kept the two-hander pointed at him while I groped downward for the lantern hanging at my waist. I could see well enough already, but I wanted a clear look at the exact face of the human who had started this.

"D-damn it!"

The room that lit up contained a hawk-nosed man I had never seen before.

His right hand held a club studded with iron plates; his left clutched a chest now blooming with blood.

"S-spare me."

He shuffled backward, trembling. What a joke. Who attacked first, exactly?

"I-I just wanted a coin purse..."

"These days coin purses apparently drop when you cave someone's skull in."

What would have happened if I hadn't taken the detection skill? Getting my head smashed by the Inquisitor would have been better; dying in my sleep has zero style.

I ground my teeth and leveled the sword.

"Drop it and put your hands on your head."

Wow. I never expected this concept to force me into lines that sounded like a cop.

But now what?

"I-I'll drop it, just spare my life..."

"Will you move faster once the blade digs under your chin?"

The low, growling words made him jump. Thud. The club hit the wooden floor and both hands shot up over his head.

I kept the blade trained on him and circled around the bed. The long sword ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made it convenient to walk while still aiming.

Clack.

My foot kicked the club into a corner. I seized one of the man's arms. His hands were locked so tightly on his head that even when I yanked, they barely came free.

Instead, he himself let go and pulled a dagger from inside his clothes.

"How utterly laughable."

Is this NPC so eager to die he never learns?

I used the two-hander like a shield to catch the dagger, then hooked his leg with my foot and ruined his balance.

The moment his body staggered and started to fall, my right elbow drove into his back.

"Guhhk!"

Criminals never leave quietly if you treat them gently. That is not what human rights are for.

"Ugh..."

I kicked the fallen man's hand—specifically the dagger still clenched in it. I stepped on the hand a little, but I got what I wanted. The dagger rolled across the floor just like the club.

"Did you honestly believe a blade like that could kill me?"

I bent briefly and seized the NPC by the nape with my gauntlet. He let out a sharp cry of pain; I ignored it.

The fact that he was still alive was already more than this robber deserved to be grateful for.

"Hey."

Still gripping the attacker's nape, I strode downstairs. At the counter an NPC was dozing, head bobbing.

Bang!

Instead of raising my voice I kicked a nearby chair. Clatter-crash! The sound of the chair toppling echoed through the hall.

"Good heavens!"

Sorry for the temper. But you people are the ones who failed to secure the place, so I'm not actually sorry.

"W-what?"

I slammed the thief I had dragged down onto the floor. The clerk who had bolted upright stared back and forth between the man and me, then let out a scream. It was the kind of scream a horror-movie director would love. Perfectly juicy.

"W-what's going on...!"

The entire inn soon began to stir. Some poked their heads out of rooms; others even came running into the hall.

"M-murder...!"

No. Look. I do have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blood on my head, but this is dried blood.

The blood I'm wearing right now couldn't possibly have dried yet. How exactly do you program an NPC so that it misreads the facts exactly like a real human?

"Are those eyes just decoration? Calling that dead when—"

I raised my sword and pointed at the groaning robber. Trying to sit up was itself proof of life; I was trying to clear up the misunderstanding.

"In that short time you went and committed murder!"

If the alert and the familiar voice had not interrupted, I would have finished explaining.

"As expected, a zombie that retains its ego is—!"

Isn't that the same one I ran into in the forest?

"No need for questions!"

Whoosh!

Before I could even grasp the situation, a mace smashed down on the spot I had just vacated. I dodged by a hair's breadth, but it was uncomfortably close. The priest who had shed her plate armor and set aside her shield was truly fast.

"You...!"

"This time I will eliminate you for certain!"

I had no idea why she was here, but it was obvious she was misunderstanding again.

What an unbelievably frustrating NPC. It is rare for the situation to turn out like this every single time we meet.

Or is this part of the story too? It feels far too contrived and left up to luck to be proper story content.

If the player had never woken up, he might simply have died right there.

"I distinctly told you I would kill you if you followed me...!"

Or maybe the correct flow was never to wake up at all. Something about teaming up to recover a stolen coin purse, perhaps.

That route would also fall apart the moment the player takes detection skill first, so the odds are pretty low.

"Filthy demon!"

"...This time I will cut off your jaw and rip out your tongue!"

Separately, every time this priest shows up my immersion switch flips and it becomes way too much fun. How does she manage to pick only the lines that stab straight at my complexes every single appearance?

"In the name of God, die—!?"

"Waaait!"

The instant the Inquisitor and I were about to collide, white-and-blue chains erupted from the floor and bound our bodies.

Binding. A mage-class skill, a CC that locks enemies in place to buy casting time. It unlocks automatically after a set duration, but resisting shortens the remaining time.

Well, we would still be stuck for at least two seconds. That was how it worked in the original, after all.

"Hold for a moment!"

Even so, I had to try resisting. I wrapped a skill around the two-hander and swung. The Archmage's shout reached my ears at almost the same instant.

"A-Archmage, why—"

KRAAANG!

The chains finally shattered under the force of my movement, and the two-hander slammed into the floor.

Craaack!

Following the path of the two-hander's blade, the wooden floorboards split open, carving a long trench that cut the hall nearly in half. The thief I had flung to the ground earlier barely managed to avoid the trench's path and now trembled violently.

"Hyaaaaah!"

"M-monster...!"

"......"

...Oh. Uh... so...

It works. A skill that players in the original constantly called broken in PvP and demanded get nerfed just snaps this easily...

A brief silence settled between me and the Archmage.