Sword Art Online Progressive 1 Page 6

  Asuna tore her gaze away from the door and looked to the south.

  “…Wow …” she murmured.

  Even the bathroom was large. The northern half was the changing area, complete with a thick, soft carpet and shelves of untreated wood on the walls. The southern half was polished stone tile, most of which was covered by a large white bathtub in the shape of a boat.

  High on the brick wall was a faucet in the shape of a monstrous face, and clear liquid was shooting out of it with terrific force. The hot water and its thick white steam filled the bathtub up to the very lip and cascaded onto the tile floor, where it ran down into a drain in the corner.

  Common sense said there was no way the medieval European manors this building was modeled after contained such deluxe hot-water plumbing. Asuna was not going to fault the design inaccuracies of this virtual world, however. Weak-kneed, she opened her menu window and hit the equipment removal button on the mannequin that took up the right half of the screen.

  All the things she’d been wearing for days and weeks—the hooded cape, the bronze armor that covered her chest, the long gloves and boots, and the rapier at her waist—disappeared instantly, and her long chestnut hair fell across her back. All that remained were a woolen three-quarter-sleeve tunic and tight leather pants. The equipment button now read REMOVE ALL CLOTHES, so she pressed it again. The top and bottom disappeared, leaving only two pieces of simple underwear.

  Asuna gave the door another quick glance, then pressed the button one last time, which now read REMOVE ALL UNDERWEAR. With just three button presses, her virtual avatar was completely unequipped, and she felt a chill on her virtual skin. The floating castle with the odd name of Aincrad did seem to follow the concept of seasons, and the room was quite chilly, in keeping with the early December date.

  She quickly crossed the room and straddled the ceramic tub. When her left foot sank into the water, the sensory signals hit her brain like a wall. She stuck her head into the flow of water from the faucet, resisting the urge to slide entirely under the surface just yet. Only when the warmth covered her entire body and took the chill of the air off did she slip down into the hot water on her back with a splash.

  “… Aaaaahh…”

  There was no holding in that sigh of contentment.

  As the black-haired swordsman had warned her, it wasn’t a perfect representation of a bath. Most of the details were just slightly off—the connection between skin and water, the pressure on the body, the glimmering reflection of light on the underside of the face.

  But as with eating, there was enough preset “bathing sensation” programmed into the system for her to be able to close her eyes, stretch her limbs, and relax. It was a bath. And not just any bath, but a deluxe one nearly six feet long and full to the brim.

  She sank up to her lips, eyes closed, letting every muscle relax, and thought, I can die happy now. I have no regrets left.

  Ever since she had left the Town of Beginnings two weeks earlier, Asuna’s thoughts had followed one stark philosophy: As long as this deadly game was effectively impossible to beat, all ten thousand players would eventually die. In a world where everything was false, dying sooner or later made no difference, in which case she’d rather keep moving forward as fast as she could, until she could no longer go on.

  At the strategy meetings the last two days, Asuna had observed the scene with cold disinterest. Who was a former beta tester (whatever that was), how the loot would be distributed—these things didn’t matter. Tomorrow morning, they would attempt the greatest challenge of the first floor of Aincrad, which had already claimed two thousand victims. A mere forty-something people would never overcome such a hurdle on the first try. There was a very high possibility that they would all die, if they didn’t retreat in ignoble defeat first.

  The reason Asuna was so willing to go out of her normal comfort zone for this bath was because she just wanted one more before she died. Now that her wish had been fulfilled, she was completely prepared to disappear from this world forever at tomorrow’s boss battle …

  That black bread with cream on top.

  What I wouldn’t give for one more of those before I die …

  Asuna was disturbed by the desire that suddenly rose within her. She opened her eyes and sat up slightly.

  That flavor wasn’t bad. But it was an absolute fake. It was a polygonal model attached to some simple variables that dictated its taste. But then, the same could be said of this bath. What looked like hot water was simply an in-game boundary with transparency and refraction numbers calculated to look real. The warmth that enveloped her body was just a string of numbers being sent to her brain by the NerveGear.

  But …but.

  Even back in the real world, the world in which she’d lived her entire life up to a month before, had she ever wanted to eat something as badly as she did now? Had she ever wanted to take a bath as badly as she did before this very moment?

  The full-course menus of organic food that she’d dutifully but mechanically eaten as her parents commanded, or the virtual roll of bread her body craved so much it made her drool: Which was the “real” thing?

  Sensing that she was considering something very, very important, Asuna held her breath.

  8

  WHO KNEW THAT JUST KEEPING MY GLANCE FROM drifting toward the bathroom door required such a difficult saving throw against temptation?

  I was lying deep in the sofa, training all of my concentration on the copy of Argo’s First-Floor Boss Guidebook I’d received earlier that day. But no matter how many times my eyes passed over the simple, easy-to-read font, none of the contents stuck in my mind.

  Well, it’s still better than it would be in real life.

  Let’s say this was my house in Kawagoe, Saitama, and my mother and sister were away, and a female classmate of mine came in to take a bath for some reason. What would I do? The answer was obvious. I’d silently sneak out of the front door, hop onto my beloved mountain bike, and take off down Prefectural Route 51 toward Arakawa.

  Instead, fortunately, I was upstairs in a large farmhouse on the outskirts of Tolbana on the first floor of the floating castle Aincrad, and I was not a geeky teenage MMO fanatic but Kirito the swordsman. As long as my body was this virtual avatar, nothing would happen to me, even after Asuna the fencer exited from the bathroom. Of course, there was always the possibility that this was a clever trap, and that while I was taking my bath, she’d empty the chest in this main room and disappear, but the most she’d find in there were some low-level ingredients from wimpy monsters. In fact, there was no need to take my turn after her. She’d emerge and I’d say, “Good luck tomorrow,” and send her on her way. The end.

  I shook my head rapidly and was setting the guidebook down on the coffee table when I heard something.

  There was a rhythmic sound at the door—to the hallway, not the bathroom—tap, tap-tap-tap. Someone was knocking, but it was not the farmer’s wife. That particular rhythm was the signature of someone else.

  I leapt up with a start and nervously turned around to stare in the direction of the thick oak door and the person standing on the other side—Argo the Rat.

  Out the south-facing window into the front yard, onto the donkey tied up outside the stable, then down the path through the forest and to the labyrinth, the thought occurred to me, however briefly. But riding mounts in SAO was an extremely difficult task. They would behave better as the Riding skill increased, but I didn’t have the slot space to waste on a hobby skill like that.

  Instead, I hopped off the sofa and went to check on the bathroom. Lady Asuna would be in the midst of her luxurious bath right now. If Argo caught even a hint of this fact, there would be a new piece of information in her book of secrets: Kirito is the kind of man who entices a girl into his bedroom on their first meeting. I couldn’t possibly serve as a model for solo players if news like that got out.

  But fortunately, all doors in this world were totally soundproof, with certain exceptions.
As far as I knew, there were only three things that could travel through a door: shouts, knocks, and battle SFX. Normal conversations and the sounds of the bath would not leak through, even with an ear to the door.

  So I could let someone into the room, and they would have no idea that anyone was bathing in the tub. And if the fencer happened to open the door while Argo was here—well, there was always that donkey.

  The above thoughts flashed through my brain as quick as combat reactions, and I approached the hallway door, steeled myself, and opened it. Once I confirmed who it was, I gave her my prepared line. “Strange for you to come visit my room directly.”

  Argo the Rat’s whisker-drawn face looked suspicious for a moment, then she shrugged.

  “I guess. The client says I have to get an answer out of you before the end of the day.”

  She strode comfortably across the room and thumped down into the exact spot on the sofa I’d just been using. I closed the door and turned to the tray in the corner to pour two glasses of fresh milk from the large pitcher there, very carefully keeping myself from glancing at the bathroom door as I returned to the sofa and set the milk on the table. Argo raised an eyebrow and smirked.

  “Seems almost too considerate for you, Kii-boy. Slipped a little sleeping powder in there, didja?”

  “You know that stuff doesn’t work on players. Even if it did, we’re inside town limits.”

  Argo paused a moment to reflect, then admitted I had a point. She raised the glass and downed the entire thing in one swallow.

  “That was good. Pretty high taste settings for being all-you-can-drink. Think you could bottle it up and sell it?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s only valid for five minutes after leaving the building. Even worse, it doesn’t just disappear, it turns absolutely disgusting …”

  “Ooh, I didn’t know that. Nothing scarier than free food.”

  I kept praying that she’d get to the damn point, but there was no telling what would happen if she sensed my impatience. With a straight face, I picked up the guidebook I’d left on the table and smacked it.

  “Speaking of free stuff, what about this? Now, I’m a happy customer of your work, but I was buying these books for five hundred col each. Then at yesterday’s meeting, Agil the axe-warrior says you’re giving them out for free?” I said sourly. She hissed with laughter.

  “It was thanks to you and the other front-runners purchasing the first batch that I was able to make a second printing to distribute for free. But don’t worry, all the first printings have an authentic Argo signature inside.”

  “… I see. Well, that’s a great reason to keep buying.”

  This free distribution must have been Argo’s way of taking responsibility for her beta tester background. I wanted to open up and ask her about it directly, but even between us, there was an unspoken taboo about discussing the beta. Plus, as a former tester who’d never lifted a finger to help the player population, I didn’t have the right to ask.

  Argo swung her brown curls and cut through the heavy silence.

  “Welp, do you mind if I cut to the chase?”

  Please, please, please, I silently screamed, nodding politely.

  “As you can probably guess from the fact that I mentioned a client, this regards the potential buyer of your sword. If you accept today, the offer will be thirty-nine thousand, eight hundred col.”

  “… Th …”

  Thirty-nine?! I nearly screamed, but held it in. After a deep breath and several seconds, I finally spoke.

  “… I don’t mean to disrespect you … but are you sure this isn’t a scam of some kind? Forty thousand is more than this weapon is worth. The basic Anneal Blade costs about fifteen thousand col, right? With another twenty thousand, you can buy all the materials to augment it up to plus six without any trouble. It might take a little time, but with just thirty-five thousand col, you could get the same weapon as mine.”

  “I said the exact same thing three times, just to be sure!”

  Argo spread her hands, a rare expression of disbelief on her face. I crossed my arms and leaned back into the sofa, all thought of the situation in the bathroom forgotten now that this new topic demanded my attention. The idea of losing money from this situation burned me up inside, but I felt worse letting my curiosity go unanswered. It took an act of will to make a counteroffer to Aincrad’s first information dealer.

  “Argo… I’ll pay one thousand five hundred col for the name of your client. Check with the other side to see if they’ll add to that.”

  “…All right,” Argo nodded, opening her window and shooting off an instant message with fingers flying.

  When the response arrived a minute later, she twitched an eyebrow and shrugged broadly.

  “It says they don’t mind telling you.”

  “…”

  I was now thoroughly baffled, but I opened my window and extracted 1,500 col anyway, stacking the six coins on the table in front of Argo.

  She grabbed them and flipped them one-by-one into storage with her thumb, nodding to signal the completion of the deal.

  “Actually, Kii-boy, you already know his face and name. He caused quite a scene at the strategy meeting yesterday.”

  “… You mean… Kibaou?” I whispered. She nodded.

  Kibaou. The man who burned with a righteous fury toward former beta testers. He was the one paying forty k for my sword?

  I did recall that the weapon hanging across his back was a one-handed sword, just like mine. But yesterday was the first time we’d been face-to-face. And it was over a week ago that Argo had brought the first offer from this particular client to me.

  The information that I’d paid 1,500 col for left me even more confused than before. I crossed my legs on the cushion to think over this development. Just to be certain, Argo asked me, “I take it there’ll be no deal on the sword again?”

  “Nope …”

  I was not going to part ways with my favorite sword for any sum of money. I nodded my assertion and sensed the Rat getting to her feet.

  “Welp, I better be off, then. Make good use of that guide, hear?”

  “Yeah …”

  “Oh, and before I go, I’m gonna borrow your other room. Gotta change into my night equipment.”

  “Yeah …”

  As I scanned my memory, I did recall that when Kibaou had stood in front of the crowd and glared at everyone, his eyes stopped on me for a moment. Did that mean he wasn’t suspecting me of being a beta tester, but that he was scoping out my sword? Or could it be both …?

  Hang on a second. What did Argo just say?

  I looked up, 80 percent of my mind still concentrating on the topic of Kibaou. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Argo turning the doorknob. Not the main door to the upstairs hallway or the bedroom door on the east wall—the one beneath the plate proclaiming BATHROOM.

  And as I watched, stunned, the Rat disappeared into the bathroom.

  Three seconds later—

  “Whoa—?!”

  “… Eeyaaaaaaa!!”

  A tremendous scream shook the building. The next thing I saw was a player that was not Argo burst out of the door.

  No memory remains of what happened next.

  9

  10:00 AM, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 4.

  The game had launched at one o’clock PM on Sunday, November 6, so in three hours, it would be exactly four weeks since it all began.

  When I first noticed the lack of the log-out button, I assumed it was simply a system error, and at worst, it would be a matter of minutes before order was restored and I could leave. But before long, Akihiko Kayaba, in the guise of a faceless GM, assigned us to the task of clearing all one hundred floors of Aincrad. At the time, I foresaw an imprisonment lasting a hundred days. In essence, I expected that we’d average about a floor a day.

  Now it had been four entire weeks—and we hadn’t even finished the first floor yet.

  I could only laugh at how optimistic I’d been, and depending on
the outcome of today’s boss battle, it could become brutally clear that time wasn’t the real issue with our escape. The forty-four players in the fountain square of Tolbana were the best of the best in the game at the present time. If this squad fell entirely or even lost half of its members, the news would spread throughout the floor, and a prevailing view would form: SAO was unbeatable. No one could say how long it would take for a second raid party to be formed—there might never be another attempt at the boss. Even grinding for levels wasn’t an option, as the effective experience gain from the monsters on the first floor had long passed its peak.

  Everything rode on whether or not the stats of Illfang the Kobold Lord, boss monster of the first floor, had been altered since the beta. If the king of the kobolds was only as tough as I remembered him being, it shouldn’t be impossible to get through the fight without any fatalities, even with our limited levels and equipment. It just depended on whether or not everyone could remain calm and perform their duties knowing their lives were on the line …

  My brain overheating with all the mental calculations, I looked to the player at my side, took a short breath, and let it out with an awkward smile.

  Asuna the fencer’s side profile, half-hidden by her deep hood, seemed no different from the time I’d first seen her in the labyrinth, two mornings before. It was both as fleeting and fragile as a shooting star, and as sharp as steel. Compared to her calm manner, I was a nervous wreck.

  I continued staring until she suddenly turned and shot me a cold glare.

  “…What are you looking at?” she whispered, voice quiet but full of menace. I shook my head rapidly. She’d warned me this morning that if I so much as recalled the reason why she was furious, she’d force-feed me an entire barrel of sour milk. Whatever happened, it was a blank blur in my mind.

  “N-nothing,” I tried to say nonchalantly. She flicked me another glare as sharp as the tip of her rapier and turned away. I began to wonder if this foul mood might affect today’s battle. True, no one else was relying upon us for help—we were practically extras—but still.