If You Can Handle the Consequences, Better to Take the Beating First

"A place in the Abyss where you can still find intact data? ...It's not like I don't have a few ideas."

Munch, munch.

That was Noise's answer to my question, delivered while she sat quietly on the bed like a little squirrel, nibbling away at a cookie. A faint emotion flickered across her otherwise blunt expression—so subtle you'd miss it if you weren't looking carefully—and it seemed the cookie's sweetness was suiting her tongue rather well.

"Really? There's a place like that?"

"Yeah. And one of them is somewhere Nia already knows."

"Somewhere I know? ...Ah, wait—!"

Noise's remark had the air of a cryptic riddle, the kind of free-floating nonsense that left you grasping at clouds. But there was a quiet certainty in her voice that I couldn't dismiss, and as I worked the gears in my head, a possibility did surface.

Back when I'd only just met Noise—when I didn't even know the ground beneath my feet was called the Abyss—there had been a place I'd stumbled into as if under a spell.

"You mean those abandoned servers? Like the subway station I wandered into before?"

"Yeah. Around here, people usually call them Delics."

Abandoned servers. In Abyss terminology: Delics.

I was fairly sure I'd heard the word once before, but it seemed Ooparts weren't the only things that drifted down into the Abyss at the lowest layer of the virtual world. Servers that no longer needed management or maintenance would be deleted from the upper virtual world like so much discarded hardware, and whatever fragments escaped complete erasure would settle into the Abyss environment and take root. Remarkably, once a Delic had melted into the Abyss like that, its data corrosion rate dropped dramatically compared to the outer regions—those pitch-black expanses that looked like open space.

"Ah, so the Virtual Beasts that keep wandering near here..."

"Probably got driven out of a Delic and ended up here after roaming around."

It was a theory that fit far too well. Considering how much data the Virtual Beasts that invaded my territory typically burned through, there was no way they could sustain themselves just by scavenging the Data Trash Heap. But if they'd been expelled from their original hunting grounds—the Delics—and arrived here half-starved... every puzzle piece that had been bothering me suddenly snapped into place.

The only real question left was why she hadn't told me something this important sooner.

Because I... never asked, right?

Come to think of it, I'd been running myself ragged lately. Building a new system always meant processing an overwhelming volume of work at breakneck speed, and ever since I'd decided to firmly establish my territory inside the Data Trash Heap, I'd been grinding without a proper break. There simply hadn't been an opening for Noise to volunteer this kind of information on her own—nor any particular reason she would.

"Haa... okay. I think I get what you're trying to say. So basically..."

What Noise wanted to tell me was simple and clear. If I wanted Ooparts, wandering the trash heap was the wrong approach. Exploring Delics would be far more effective and efficient.

"But abandoned servers have those things in them, right? You know... those..."

"Predator Species, you mean?"

Nod, nod.

I agreed, looking a little troubled, at Noise—who still had cookie crumbs stuck to her mouth.

Predator Species.

From my perspective, they were still a lingering trauma—creatures I had absolutely no desire to face again. I'd only encountered two so far: Abyss Berka, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that small, vicious monster whose name I never learned. But even those brief, searing encounters had burned into my bones the knowledge that they sat at the absolute peak of the Abyss food chain.

Even Abyss Berka—the one that got completely hunted down by that little monster—I'm not sure I could beat it as I am now.

Could I really handle a creature that moved that fast despite its massive frame? If I answered myself honestly... probably not. That instinct of mine, the one that always tugged my hand toward the nearest correct choice, was carefully insisting that I couldn't. Run a mental simulation of the fight and the picture was clear: long before the Scissors Blade ever reached the enemy, those longer, sharper foreleg blades would shred me to pieces without me even managing to dodge.

I hadn't been particularly athletic even before becoming Nia. Everything I'd done so far had been little more than bullying weaker opponents with relatively ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠superior physical stats.

"Could I beat a Predator Species?"

Granted, I'd racked up plenty of wins against ordinary Virtual Beasts by now. The Scissors Blade was an item that defied common sense in more ways than one—sharp enough to cleave through already-broken, sluggish Virtual Beasts in a single stroke. Pure firepower-wise, it might even put a dent in a Predator Species.

But as I'd already said: even the strongest weapon means nothing if it never connects. The Scissors Blade didn't give me the kind of confidence I needed.

"...I don't really know."

"Mm. Figured as much."

Noise seemed to understand that well enough herself. She furrowed her brows gently as she answered. It was a frustrating situation—having a clear solution to a problem I'd been wrestling with, yet being unable to simply go out and take it.

But after a long stretch of thinking it over with Noise at my side, I arrived at only one conclusion.

"Still... I need to explore one of those Delics at least once."

It was an unavoidable choice. No matter how dangerous the risk, if there was only one path forward, you'd have to walk it eventually. Better to start early—while I still had plenty of time—than to put it off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until I was forced into half-hearted, rushed expeditions under pressure.

That was the conclusion of some fairly rigorous calculation. And when I thought about the Predator Species problem from a different angle, it looked less absolute.

Come to think of it, I don't actually need to fight and win against a Predator Species, do I? Virtual Beasts almost never leave their Delics unless they're desperate. If things go south, I just run back this way.

Being unable to win didn't mean being unable to escape. I could hide quietly like last time and bolt out of their detection range the moment I got the chance—then figure out the rest later.

In the end, it was a beating I'd have to take someday. And as the saying went: better to take the beating first. This wouldn't turn out to be the wrong choice. Who knew—I might even get lucky and find a Delic so packed with data that I could scrape together far more Ooparts than expected.

If something like that happens, I won't have to go near another Delic for a long while. Like a bear settling in for hibernation.

...I'd decided. On the next regular day off, I'd make time and go looking for an abandoned server—a Delic. I'd experience the place firsthand and figure out which approach worked best. And throughout the whole process, I could only pray fervently that I wouldn't cross paths with one of those terrifying Predator Species.

Over the past month-plus, my streaming cycle had settled into something like this.

Three days a week were main streams—built around content solid enough to anchor the channel. Those usually meant reviewing Ooparts, holding watch parties, or running events like the old 100K-subscriber special. Once the stream ended, Noise would hustle through the edit and upload a polished cut to the channel. The main event, pure and simple. On those days I tried to deliver at least an hour or two of material that would get as many people as possible laughing, chatting, and having a good time. Lately the main streams were consistently pulling over ten thousand concurrent viewers, so they were the part of the schedule I treated with the most focus and care.

The other three days of the week were sub streams. Those featured quieter fare that wouldn't make it onto the channel as edited VODs—minor Ooparts finds, building projects while wandering the Abyss, that sort of thing. Since I was streaming six days out of seven, packing every single broadcast with high-intensity content would burn out the audience over the long haul. So the sub streams were designed to let some of the air out of the tire. Unlike the main content, they only got edited and uploaded if something unexpectedly fun happened to land, which meant I could stream more loosely. Oddly enough, some viewers actually preferred the sub streams to the main ones. Don't ask me why.

Three main days, three sub days... and the remaining day was the regular day off.

I'd stripped most of the casual chatter out of my streams and filled the space with content, so the burn rate on material was extreme. Sure, sometimes I'd latch onto one thing and stretch it across multiple sessions—but with six streams a week, that alone couldn't keep the consumption under control. So the regular day off was locked in as a day I simply didn't stream, both to ease that burn rate and to give me time to dig harder through the Data Trash Heap for Ooparts. Not that my body could feel fatigue in the first place.

"Alright, all set! What do you think, Noise? Don't I look like a proper explorer?"

"Yeah. Like Lara Croft."

"Heh. You really do get it! Lately I feel like you and I are starting to be on the same wavelength."

Pat, pat.

I carefully stroked Noise's head, thoroughly spoiling her for so cleverly pulling out exactly the image I'd been going for. Maybe it was because I'd been feeding her content based on what I already knew, back when she'd first gotten her body and been a complete blank slate. For "woman plus explorer" to spit out Lara Croft without hesitation... Noise had clearly started developing a sensibility and perspective that overlapped with mine in certain ways.

Thanks to Noise, I feel a lot less lonely these days. There's a kind of emotional stability I didn't have before...

That was a good thing. The hollow, lonely feeling that used to creep up on me when she wasn't around hadn't made an appearance in a while. I hoped she'd keep growing up straight and well. I gave the blinking, slightly puzzled Noise a gentle squeeze, then shouldered my bag lightly and gave her a firm instruction.

"You'll watch the house, right? Don't go down from the studio under any circumstances."

"Yeah. It's dangerous down there without Nia. I'll stay put."

Smart as always, Noise grasped exactly what I meant and looked up at me with eyes that said not to worry.

Yeah. A kid this sharp—I didn't need to fret. Besides, with the door shut tight, the studio was probably the safest place anywhere in the Abyss. Nothing would happen to her while I was gone for a bit.

"Alright then. I'm heading out."

"Come back safe."

I burned the image of Noise's calm farewell into my eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped lightly out the door. A backpack full of various gear, and the reliable Scissors Blade that had always come through for me. With those two things, an expedition to find a Delic shouldn't be all that dangerous.

...Right?

I hoped it wouldn't be. I stared carefully out into the lightless trash heap and slowly repeated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that thought to myself.