"Are you, not more, proficient?"

A person wearing a skull-like mask with red eyepieces mercilessly reminded me amidst a congregation of tattered hoods and cloaks. All was still on this grassy plain, save the fluttering of the death gods' garments and the shower of fleeting blue shards. Aside from the lonely wind, my ears could only hear this man's fragmented speech pattern.

"Are you, not more, intelligent?"

The blue shards originated from the same source—the depletion of the durability of an object. To an outsider at this moment, a boss monster may have just been defeated, but everyone in this plain knew the events that had transpired on this New Year's morning.

"Are you, not more, competent, than, any of them?"

"That is all, XaXa."

Another man, taller than his companion, set a hand on his companion's shoulder. XaXa stopped talking and withdrew, and this taller individual assumed the podium.

"Of course, you know the answer to those questions. We observed you, we overheard those conversations, and... wondered why you still engaged with such undesirables."

And before I could reply, the man, probably of Mexican descent, continued to indulge me with his eloquence.

"You sought longing. You sought for a place where people would acknowledge you." He raised his hand into the air, as if grasping something unseen. "Beta Testers are not easily accepted... but among our ranks, they are our greatest assets." He lowered the hand, but not to his side, but in front of me, as if presenting a gift.

"Kai... join us—"

And the members of Laughing Coffin chimed in: "to create a utopia for only what is correct... to stow the false into the coffins of their rebelliousness... to laugh at their incompetence..."

My hand slowly raised, compelled by an unknown emotion, and grasped this man's hand. From underneath his hood, PoH's lips curled into a satisfied smile, and finished the mantra:

"This is the statement of «Laughing Coffin»."

So now, go forth my followers... revel in the remains of your adversaries; the ones who hated you, used you, despised you. For, in the end, they will die by the hands of Kayaba Akihiko, our imprisoner. So enjoy this game, while it still lasts—dazzle our audience with your untamed skill...

«It's showtime.»

The Rain in Our Souls

Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki.

All original content belongs to me.

[Targets moving toward the southeast. Move twenty meters to the west. T minus 30 seconds until contact.]

I reviewed this message of fragments twice. Feeling that there was no awkwardness in my diction, I tapped the send button. This message channel was relayed to all of the members in this current party. I glanced at my upper-left, which displayed my name, level, and HP.

Kai. 17715/17715. Lv: 90.

Beneath that were smaller HP bars, with my party members' names written underneath. Mori, Seraph, Tetra. Their levels were similar to mine; Seraph's was the lowest.

I glanced back at the map. Within the seven seconds that passed, my party members finished positioning themselves near the path that our targets were to walk across. There was no stopping those targets' deaths now. Mori had been trigger-happy for the past three weeks, after solo killing three players sleeping out in the field.

Then, there was Tetra, one of the newer members, who had committed her first solo kills just two days ago and a week after her induction. She was the most talented of the group, and rumors within Laughing Coffin prophesied that she may become an executive in due time.

I actually was offered that position, not too long before Tetra joined. I declined.

[Let them have it.]

My map exploded into action, as the blue dots of my party clashed with the green dots of the players I had singled out; revealed by my maxed «Searching» skill. One by one, those green dots vanished from the map, and I heard the distant cries of agony, followed by the dull thud of in-game death.

A certain gravity pulled down at my heart.

No—these players deserved this. This was my karma to them—for their ill treatment towards me, towards the beta testers... For if I mingled with them and they discover my beta tester status, they would surely shun me. I tasted little of friendship, having walked the path of a «solo player», but always hoped there will be others who would acknowledge me.

Even on the 47th Floor, when I dealt the «Last Attack» on that boss, over eight months ago, there were few congratulations to pass around, since I was a no-name solo player. «Last Attacks» and «Town Openings» were considered the greatest of achievements within the Clearing Group, and seeing this congratulation having gone to rest like that, I settled with the first people to reach out to me; a small guild that I later discovered to have sought me out because I was a Beta Tester—and only because I was a Beta Tester.

And that led me here—to destroy those who desired me because of the information and utility I could provide, and only those attributes, and those who shunned me because of a psychological endeavor to protect myself during the beginning of this «death game»... like all other Beta Testers.

And so it was. I couldn't, wouldn't settle with being a tool.

Another realization came into being. So how was this current «activity» different than what I was forced to do then?

[bak to hq, head-san?] The contorted internet short-hand was from Seraph. They had stowed the loot of the dead players into their inventories, and we would distribute the items once we returned to the headquarters on the 5th Floor, deep inside the Labyrinth. I wished to return, not because I had first picks on the loot, but because I needed to meet with a certain information broker.

How has he managed to survive with all this hate?