The PC Bang

The forms of human play have always evolved, and the tools used for that play have always been deeply shaped by advances in magical technology — a fact hardly remarkable in itself.

Considering how many games existed even in the distant past, and how many diversions people found to fill their hours, the notion that a computer might become a medium for play was perhaps not so extraordinary either.

But this — this was something else entirely.

"Game," it seemed, was not a word that simply meant ordinary play in this era.

When Luke asked what kind of amusement could possibly involve such blatant depictions of combat, Shirud offered to show him firsthand — and that was how the subject of games played on a "computer" came up.

"One plays with a computer as well?"

"I'm more surprised you've never played a computer game even once."

"I have no computer, so…"

It might have sounded a touch pathetic, but what was one to do about something one simply did not possess?

Consider the lettering on the freestanding signboard planted out front of the building labeled PC Bang, as if the place were showing off:

"Hah."

What on earth was any of that supposed to mean?

The meanings packed into those words were so opaque he could scarcely even guess at them.

Animal-based? Did that mean computers came in forms other than the usual design — magic circles with plant matter set into mana filters?

And what was a monitor's 144Hz? What was an IS panel? What in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world was a Warp Telepathy Network — and what bizarre coinage was a "gaming" control orb?

He could not contain his curiosity.

"Shirud, do you know what all of that means?"

"More or less."

"I see…?"

"What are you doing? Aren't you coming in?"

Of course he was going in.

But if he were honest, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could not claim he would manage to stay calm. Ever since the smartphone, modern magical devices had carried enormous expectations for him — and those expectations had always been surpassed, revealing something new beyond anything he had imagined.

The level of magical technology had changed so completely that one could scarcely believe it was the same planet as five thousand years ago.

And once again, modern civilization did not disappoint.

Arrayed before his eyes were hundreds of terrifyingly advanced magical devices — modern computers whose design philosophy was utterly different from anything found in a research laboratory.

So of course Luke could not resist deploying his Mana Sight.

Inside each computer, extremely fine magical formulae were layered dozens — hundreds — of times over, tangled together in three-dimensional chaos.

This time he could see all the way into the interior, because the upper face of each machine had been made of transparent reinforced glass so that the design within was fully visible.

The rough mana architecture he could confirm — setting aside the impossibly fine details the naked eye could never track — was this: a fungal microorganism called Mana Dust had been properly mixed and processed with mana stones, then used as a mana filter to raise the rate of mana supply and pull up the response speed of the magic circles.

Moreover, the core design of those magic circles had already reached the level of art — no, something that surpassed even that.

What point was there in comparing performance? Against the old cactus-filter systems, simple computation alone differed by a factor of more than twenty. And would anyone believe him if he said even that figure was only an inference drawn from the parts he could see?

A thought struck him. They used magical devices this transcendent… for mere play?

Ought these not be reserved for the most cutting-edge magical facilities?

From the perspective of an ordinary person of the old world, it was nearly impossible to understand.

"Just what… is all of this supposed to be?"

"Sit tight here for a second. I'll go put time on the machines."

"Ah. Very well."

Luke sat and simply watched the computer at work, staring blankly.

He could not help but be captivated by the beautiful festival of lights shimmering beyond the transparent glass of the case.

The magic circles were even aesthetically beautiful. Had the person who designed and built this been not a mage but an artist? Even the dwarves of Mount Helken, seeing the craftsmanship of these circuits, might well have declared their own hands useless and offered to cut them off.

"At this rate, one wonders whether one could even use the thing properly — it would be too distracting."

Luke let out a long breath.

Unable to use a magical device because its magic circles were too beautiful — could such a strange predicament even exist?

Having bled off a little of his excitement with that sigh, he turned his gaze to the control orbs set before him.

They certainly looked different from ordinary control orbs.

"Hmm. So these are the 'Gaming Triple Control Orbs.'"

He turned them this way and that. They were not so alien as to be unusable, but they were hardly familiar either.

Even Luke Irushi — the great hero of ages past who had weathered every trial under the sun — had never particularly needed to handle three separate control orbs at once.

And the truly amusing part… was that even from those orbs, a soft mana-light flowed in beautiful streams. There was not a single part of the setup that did not shine.

It felt rather like setting off fireworks on a desk.

"And the refresh rate of the monitor's illusion magic does feel distinctly higher."

That difference in the illusion magic's screen refresh rate naturally meant a smoother image.

Indeed — by every measure, one could call this superior.

Having finished his rough analysis of the equipment, Luke opened his bag and began jotting notes on what he had grasped.

It was truly a pity, but the magical formulae were so precise and refined that no hand could possibly reconstruct them; he could extract only the theoretical principles.

Even so, this alone should be enough to cut mana consumption in existing magic by nearly forty percent. If I rewrite the calculation formulae along similar principles, the casting speed as well might…

"Ehh? Studying even in a PC bang? You're ruthless. Seriously ruthless."

Shirud, back from putting time on the computers, recoiled in open distaste.

Then he held something out, as if telling Luke to take it.

"Put the notebook away and take this first."

"And what is this?"

What Shirud handed over was a pair of round, plug-like magical devices with voice magic enchanted into them.

Their mana structure somewhat resembled "earphones," but unlike those, they had been built on the premise of wired mana-information transmission.

"Beastman headset. Everyone uses these when they game."

Shirud held up the headset he would use himself for show, then settled it over his head like a pair of earmuffs.

Watching how Shirud put it on, Luke tried to follow suit — and promptly botched it.

Beastman and elf ear positions were different, after all.

Structurally, a beastman's ear canals faced more upward than those of other races, and every individual's ear shape and form differed; beastman headsets came with a considerable variety of adjusters so they could be fitted to one's own head. That was precisely why it was hard to tell at a glance how to use them.

"Want me to put it on for you?"

"I — I decline!"

Luke never permitted anyone else to touch his ears. He disliked having his head patted for the same reason.

He had learned firsthand, with his own body, what catastrophe ensued when those places were touched while he was unguarded.

It was a sensation carved into the nervous system of this body; even when he tried to refuse it by will alone, it was not easy.

As ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sensitive as the ears had become, his hearing had developed considerably as well — he could catch even the finest noises — but in ordinary life it was mostly an ability that made unnecessary noise sound louder than it needed to.

"Simply explain it to me in words, if you would."

In the end Luke received a verbal description of the adjustment mechanisms from Shirud, tuned the headset himself, and seated it properly in his ears.

It tickled a little, but the design — subtly avoiding the most sensitive spots, no doubt because it had been made beastman-friendly — was quite impressive.

"The fit is rather good."

Luke gave his head a small, satisfied shake.

The supports that came down along ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the jawline locked the headset firmly so it would not slip, and the sensation was not at all unpleasant.

"All right, let's game. The ID is…"

"ID?"

"I figured you'd say that."

Luke had received formal legal status and even had his own smartphone, so creating an ID ought not to have been difficult — except that the age requirement did not match.

"Didn't see this coming… Super Magic League is rated for ages ten and up."

The problem was that Luke was, on paper, a ten-year-old body.

Shirud was eleven — one year older — and so had been able to make an account; but in general, ten was the age at which one was about to enter the Academy, and the game was not available to players that young.

"Come to think of it, you're a year younger than me, huh…?"

"I fail to understand why one must even check ages for a mere amusement."

Luke shook his head as if the whole thing made no sense.

Violence, was it? What was that supposed to mean, exactly?

Frankly speaking — was the public beheading of a high traitor not violent?

However violent something might look inside a monitor, it was only magic being manipulated within a computer's illusory space.

"Why did I forget about that…"

Shirud muttered.

Come to think of it, Luke skipped a year and ended up in the same class as me.

They saw each other in the same class every day, and Luke had never been called by any title that would mark an age gap — senior, big brother, anything of the sort — so Shirud had never expected it. Or rather, he had simply never thought about it at all.

"So why don't you ever call me Oppa?"

"Do you wish me to do so?"

"…A little?"

"I shall call you that."

"Really?"

Shirud's eyes brightened a fraction.

"If you ever defeat me in magic."

"Ehh."

That's the same as saying you won't do it at all — how am I supposed to beat you in magic?!

Shirud screamed inwardly.

"Then I cannot play this 'game' of yours?"

When Luke murmured it with a touch of genuine regret, Shirud answered,

"You don't have to worry about that. I'll lend you my secondary account."

"Oh. Yes. That method exists as well."

Shirud worked the control orbs with practiced ease, finished logging in — and the logo reading Super Magic League sparkled into view.

Soon the game screen lit up, revealing a rather complicated interface.

Not knowing what to do, Luke eased his body back a little and left it to Shirud, watching the screen as Shirud operated it in his place.

"Oh, right. Any character you particularly want?"

Luke shrugged and asked,

"Hmm. What is there?"

"There are a ton of characters, so just say whatever comes to mind."

"Hmm. There would be mages, I presume?"

"Of course. Mage characters look like this…"

Among the countless "mage" characters Shirud brought up, Luke's eye snagged on one in particular.

A stern white-haired old man, gripping a great staff.

The name was different, the appearance different — and yet somehow a sense of kinship stirred.

Still, I looked rather more presentable than this.

The slightly less handsome face was a point of dissatisfaction, though.

"I believe this character will do."

Seeing the one Luke had chosen, Shirud spoke in a faintly startled tone.

"Huh — that's Look Kamoshi? That character was designed with the fairy-tale 'Luke Irushi' as a motif. Did you pick him knowing that?"

"I-is that so? This is Luke Irushi, you say…?"

Not in the least. Not even a little. They did not resemble each other at all.

Well — it was only a motif, not a direct copy of the man himself, so he supposed he would have to accept it. While he was briefly mulling that over, the screen changed.

The real game display had begun.

"Oh. This illusion is rather finely wrought, is it not? A touch unrealistic, perhaps, but still."

"If you work those control orbs now, the character will move."

"What? This illusion answers to my will?"

Luke was stunned.

An illusion that changed in real time was, by nature, an ultra-high-order magical formula requiring an absurd volume of computation.

Its difficulty rose exponentially with the complexity and interactivity of the illusion.

Even real-time control at the level of merely mimicking a spirit's form already involved a considerable number of problems to compute…

And realizing that on a magical device like this was nearly impossib— no. Not impossible, apparently.

So that was it. Indeed.

These monstrous magical devices existed to construct this absurd illusion.

"Looking at this illusion, I finally understand why such tremendous technology was brought to bear."

As Luke marveled at the game's graphics, Shirud felt an oddly unaccountable swell of pride and continued his explanation.

"Let's practice a bit first. This is attack, this is a skill. And…"

"Ah! Dead again! This is absurd!"

"Luke, if you dive in there you die… I told you to farm first. Look has to farm against that character."

Luke's playstyle was extremely aggressive.

The character he had chosen was a mage, yet the way he played it looked more like a berserker.

In truth, that had been the combat method of the Luke Irushi of old as well.

Using extreme instantaneous calculation and reflexes to slot his own body into the best possible action for the situation.

Thus Luke, though a mage, had never been weak in close quarters — and he had never used magic singly, either.

"Weak at short range, can cast only one spell at a time — how is this an archmage? And why is the mana so insufficient?"

But there was no way the sense that read everything on a real battlefield would manifest in a game whose rules he still barely understood — and there could be no character who deployed hundreds of spells at once to achieve ultimate interference with reality…

Luke had already met his fifth death.

"Preposterous. Why is a mage this frail? I would fare better fighting with my own hands!"

"…"

Why was it, Shirud wondered,

that he somehow felt Luke really would?