Castle Carnation
~Chapter 7~
[The appraiser you are looking for is on the eighth floor.]
[Several minutes' walk from «Friben»?]
[Correct. It is close to a dungeon area, but you won't need to enter it. You will need to cross sixteen branches and four rope bridges. Try to not fall; if you do, the nearest ladders are all the way back in Friben, or within the dungeon. If you need further direction, just ask: its cost is already covered.]
[Very well. Thank you, info-san.]
[Don't. You paid me, remember?]
Asuna sat, legs crossed, in the grass of the training field. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"That morning," Lisbeth answered, her voice unsteady as she paced back and forth next to Asuna. "She came to the shop... told me she'd be on the third floor, checking for possible hidden loot..."
"Okay. And the last you heard from her was that message..."
"Yeah. Now she's not responding, and the friends' list locator isn't finding her..."
A thought came. "The locator isn't tracing her, and she isn't getting your messages? That's what happens with friends who are inside dungeon zones. Would she have entered one?"
"It's possible, she said she was looking around the forest area... but it's been more than a week... She's not dead. I... I checked the wall. She can't be dead..."
"She could be stuck somewhere," Asuna hypothesized. "Are there pitfall traps on the third floor?"
"M-maybe!" Lisbeth's foot tapped on the ground as she thought. "I'll check with an info broker..."
"You haven't asked one yet?" Asuna questioned. "That'd be the first thing I'd do."
"I tried," Lisbeth said, "but the one I talked to charged a ridiculously high price. Seventy-K. I couldn't afford it."
"Hang on. Kirito's familiar with one of them, and I'm sure she'll know something. Who's the broker you talked to?"
"«The Rat». Agil recommended him to me. And It seemed like he really knew something... I don't understand why he'd charge me so much..."
"Wait, «The Rat»?"
The streets of «Taft» were as good a place for a quick meeting as any.
Kirito propped himself onto the brick wall, beside the short, familiar, brown-hooded figure.
"Argo."
"Hey, Ki-bou."
"You trying to train your «Hiding» skill or something?" Kirito joked. "Hate to tell you, but there's still some clues that let me distinguish you from a brick..."
"May-be," Argo said cryptically. "Do I even have the «Hiding» skill? May-be, may-be-not."
Kirito sighed and went to business. "Not long ago, a gunsmith asked you for information. Her name was Lisbeth. She was asking about her friend, Silica."
"Cor-rect."
"You said you knew where she was, but you charged an insane price. 70,000. Even I barely have that much saved up."
"Also correct," Argo confirmed.
"Why?"
Argo said, straightforwardly, "I'm being paid to keep that information secret."
"Paid...that means someone's offered you seventy-K col? In hush money? Why would anyone... How much did they put on their name?"
"None. If you want it, it's just the ten col base fee."
Hush money was offered to a broker by a client, to keep their information secret. If someone was willing to pay an equivalent amount, the client would have to raise their hush offer, or let the other know what they were attempting to hide.
Kirito frowned as he opened his menu to pay the small fee. Who would put such a huge hush amount on someone else's location, and not leave a single col to hide their identity?
"You're not going to like this," Argo said once she'd received the tiny transaction. "Her name is Rosalia. She leads the orange guild «Titan's Hand»."
"Orange," Kirito repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You're keeping secrets for those kinds of people?"
"I keep secrets for everyone."
"Argo," Kirito reasoned. "If «Titan's Hand» is paying to hide information on Silica, that's serious evidence that they're to blame for her disappearance. We know she's not dead. Have they kidnapped her? I haven't heard of anyone ever being kidnapped here before. Why would they do that? What's the point?"
Argo avoided eye contact. "I'm going to need the payment to elaborate any further."
Kirito sighed. "Seriously? You're gonna stick it up for a bunch of criminals?"
"I'm sorry," Argo apologized sincerely. "But if you want the information on Silica, I can't lower the price. That would be unfair to my client."
"Okay," Kirito conceded. "I get it. Info broker, got to preserve your reputation, la-de-dah. That's alright, I have the money."
Argo was briefly silent. "You're going to go after them? You're going to try and fight them?"
"Yeah."
"Don't," Argo pleaded, continuing to look away, down the street.
"Why?"
"It'll be dangerous. You may be higher level, but there's five of them, at least. You don't know what they really want, or what they're willing to do to get it..."
"Asuna said she'd come with me. We'll be okay, I think."
"You've... decided this? You're sure you're going to go after them?"
"Of course," Kirito said. "Our friend needs our help. Of course we're going."
Argo finally turned and looked Kirito in the eye. "...Then forget about the fee; I'll pay it to myself. And let me go with you."
Floor 8's surface was an unappealing, wet mess, splotched with varying depths of water; from fathomless pools to knee-deep mires, filled with monsters that gave zero experience and dropped no items; shrouded in darkness thanks to the thick verdant foliage of the humongous trees that grew out of it. The trees were fantastically large redwoods, with trunks several meters in diameter and bark one tier short of invulnerable, reaching high above the murky surface below; the tops of the tallest of them brushed against the ceiling. At multiple altitudes, their branches were broadened into forking protrusions of wood, analogous to roads, that were the primary means of traversing Floor 8. Gaps that branches failed to cover were spanned by rope-and-plank bridges, filling out a lofty footpath network.
Quite obviously, the floor was meant to be explored from above. Dungeons consisted of complex suspended tree house-like structures, or were carved as rooms in even more abnormally massive trees. Players that fell, thankfully, wouldn't take a massive amount of damage from landing in the mud below, but would have to trek through the unpleasant, unrewarding terrain to the nearest ladder, staircase, or elevator leading back up. The falling mechanic was central to dungeon design, and consequently, zones that the game considered part of the dungeons extended all the way down to the surface, where there would be little physical indication of such a border, just darkness and the scattered bases of the giant trees.
Despite, or possibly because of the unique layout, the floor was one of the least populated; the annoyance and time-waste risk of falling wasn't worth the unspectacular rewards of the arboreal dungeons. But, occasionally, parties that found the floor within their level range would pass through. And some number of players found enough appeal in the sky-high aura to purchase real estate in the tree house settlement of «Friben».
A woman in a dark green cloak walked upon an angled branch, alone, a simple «M1 Carbine» slung on her back. As she walked, she passed in and out of shadow; sunlight upon the branches was consistently varied, splotched thanks to the constant swaying of leaf-bearing branchlets in the slight wind.
She spied someone standing on the branch ahead of her, a green cursor over their head, and quickened her pace. "Hello, there! Are you who I was supposed to meet? The broker asked you to come here, right?"
The other didn't seem to hear. As Griselda drew nearer, she picked out his-no, her features: strikingly vibrant hair, the color of flame, and expensive ballistic fabric apparel—comparable in quality to her own, but better than she expected a merchant would have.
"This appraisal shouldn't take all that long, should it? Hello?" Griselda asked again, stopping a few meters from the other player.
She finally turned, and smiled at her. "Oh, hey there. Griselda, right? Name's Rosalia. It's so nice to meet you. Here, hold this for me, will you?"
The red-haired woman rapidly tossed her something, and, on reflex, Griselda caught it in both hands.
It was a spherical pod, slightly bigger than her fist, with a band of gold-saffron light running around it, gradually increasing in intensity. "What-"
Then the pod released a resonant thrum of noise, distorting the air around them for a split second, before it evaporated into particles in her hands.
"«EMP»..." Griselda realized, blinking repeatedly to clear her head. "Why..."
"Sorry," Rosalia said, snapping her fingers. "This isn't anything personal. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
A grouping of bullets, fired by unseen accomplices in the surrounding trees, rushed in, striking Griselda from multiple directions, sending her staggering.
Before she could recover, Rosalia had materialized a «Gewehr 98» rifle and rushed towards her. She swung the rifle like a club, the butt of the gun slamming into Griselda's gut, knocking her off her feet and off of the branch, sending her tumbling down into the darkness below.
Robbers, Griselda grumbled internally, floating on her back. I can't believe it.
She'd expected an attack from robbers at some point, given the value of the ring she was carrying, but she didn't think they'd appear right at her destination. Floor Eight received so little traffic... had the robbers known that she, specifically, would be there, bringing an extremely valuable item to be appraised? Why else would they have been waiting there?
Griselda pulled herself upright in the muddy water, wary of the yellow hue of the bar in the upper left of her view.
Come to think of it... why had the broker sent her to such an obscure location in the first place? Why hadn't the meeting been coordinated to take place within the safe zone of a city?
She was a capable, if not vastly experienced, swimmer, and quickly made her way towards shallower water, eventually reaching a spot where her feet could rest on the ground and the water came up just to her hips. She called up her menu and applied medi-foam to herself, watching hear health bubble back as she pondered her next move.
Should I contact the broker? But if they're the one who set this up, that wouldn't help me at all. I ought to just try and stay out of sight as much as possible...
The «EMP» had rendered her «NTB» teleport items unusable for the next thirty minutes. She didn't have the «Hiding» skill, but the area was immersed in shade, with a bare minimum of ambient lighting, and so she had confidence she could evade the orange players until she could use an «NTB».
Griselda pulled her carbine off her back waded deeper into the dark.
Silica shifted her legs, cringing as her boots brought up mud with them as they were lifted. She and her guard stood in a relatively dry spot, but 'relative' meant the sediment that supported her was still inundated. She looked up, at the man who had been left there with her.
"I don't get," Silica said, "what you want with me. Are you trying to get a ransom? Or is this just for the fun of it? I just don't get it."
"Ransom?" he said, his voice annoyed yet accommodating. "You think we're real criminals? Give me a break."
"I'll bet you've heard of all the big, fancy guilds," he said. "«RDM», the «Red Dragon Militia»? What a joke. Elitist dumbasses who think they can escape by doing what they're told. They think they can break out of prison by following prison rules. Idiots. Unlike them, I'm trying to help people like you."
"But you kidnapped me!"
The man turned towards her and bent his knees, bringing his head back down to the height of hers. It was hard to make out his features in the dark, but Silica tried. His face was scruffy and middle-aged, with wrinkles beginning to show. He wore clay colored ceramic plate armor, high-protection but low-durability equipment that was just a little out of Silica's price range.
"Sorry," he said. "Really." He took an object from his belt. "Here."
Silica frowned, and her whole body seemed to shift along with the expression, her back drooping, her eyes narrowing. "You're giving my gun back?"
"What does it look like?" the man answered. The «Steyr-Hahn» pistol was extended out to her, grip-first. "Please don't do something as childish as shooting me and running away. Then I'd feel like an idiot. But seriously, I'm asking for a bit of mutual trust here."
She took the offered gun with a scowl—snatched it, really—and tapped its side to bring out its status window. Nothing seemed wrong; even its durability was essentially the same as when she'd last checked. It was loaded, too, with standard ammunition.
"This area is pretty dangerous," the man continued, standing up straight and looking around. "We wouldn't want to have our prized possession dying out here to a swamp monster."
Silica admitted that she was more comfortable there with a gun in her hands. There was barely enough light to see by; the massive trunks that towered out of the muck were unsettling; and she'd previously overheard tales of the unpleasantness of the enemies that spawned.
"I go by Chrissen, by the way. It's only fair that you know my name if I know yours."
"So why are we here? You kidnapped me... right?"
Chrissen glanced down at her. "Kind of. We've never had bad intentions in doing this. Here, take this too," he said, and tossed something to her.
It was a rectangular prism of chrome, elongated on one axis more so than the others, so it could be held in the hand like a remote. Neon blue details wrapped around it, seemingly etched into its surface, both curves and sharp angles forming a pattern that was elegant, just on the edge of being chaotic. And from one end, a small cyan hologram was projected: a miniature of Aincrad.
"An «NTB»?" Silica recognized at once. The normally faint blue glow seemed extraordinarily bright in their current environment. "But you're trying to keep me here..."
"After this phase, we don't want anyone dying. Your safety will be paramount, and you're going to need to use that. White smoke is the signal."
"Signal for what?"
"You don't need to know what it's the signal for. Just remember it for later: white smoke."
Silica stamped her foot. "That means nothing! I'm just going to use this and leave, unless you explain what you're doing. Maybe you're trying to do something good, but so far all you've done is shoot at me and force me to come to this swamp. All you have orange cursors, so I know you've done bad things. You can't just tell me you're being all noble and expect me to care."
"Sorry, kid, but you're going to have to trust us. You wouldn't understand. Even if I explained, you wouldn't."
Chrissen abruptly stood up straight.
"What?"
"Get down!" he snarled suddenly, shoving her to the side. Silica lost her balance and toppled lengthwise into the mud. As she fell, she caught sight of a flash of yellow, splashing over the sides of trees like the headlight beams of a swerving car. When picked herself up again, the man was nowhere to be seen.
"...Hello?" she called out into the dark. What was his name again? "Chris-"
Her answer came as the sensation of air by her side being displaced by a bullet. Silica felt a sense of déjà-vu as she rolled with «Acrobatics» into the deeper shadow of the nearest tree-pillar. She was only thankful that with the maneuver, the mud she'd picked up slid off of her with unrealistic ease, without so much as staining her clothes. Her machine-pistol held firm, she closed her eyes, unreliable in such darkness, and opened her ears.
She heard low noise of wind, whistling through and ruffling the myriads of leaves above. She heard the careful, bubbling ambient background noise that played, underscoring the area's ichorous theme. Most importantly, she heard a subtle beat of splashes and swishes, the sound of something wading through the water.
Monster of the swamp? It's only floor eight. You've helped with raids on floors higher than this... It can't... The sound grew louder. But it's still in a dungeon... and we're not really supposed to be in this area...
The splashing became greater and greater, and Silica was suddenly aware of the fact that whatever was making it was approaching her, in fact, already near her; in fact, the splashes came from nigh on top of her, right on the other side of the tree she used to conceal herself.
Her grip tightened. Left or right? Which side, monster? In her grip, her gun radiated from within like the glow of a firefly.
A splash sounded, heavier in her left ear than her right, and she sprung, leaping with «Acrobatics» to the left, holding down the trigger as she was airborne. The «Steyr» hammered out three rounds, each one flashing the surroundings with abnormally bright yellow, each one flying true and dealing statistics-defying damage through «Focus Fire».
Silica hit the ground and rolled, splashing up mud, and then righted herself on one knee. She reopened her eyes and sighted with her gun. But her gun didn't stay raised for long. As her eyes focused, it became clear that what she'd fired at hadn't been a creature of the swamp.
It'd been a person, a player with flowing dark hair and a green cloak over their shoulders. The trio of angry red holes that Silica's 9 millimeter rounds had punched gleamed, pixilated, on the other's neck, just above where their armor would have stopped the focused shots. The player put a hand up to their neck, their defiant eyes losing their fire as they watched a long bar drain from green to yellow to red and to nothing.
"Why," the player, Griselda, whispered as dreaded words and a translucent red overlay commanded her view. «You are Dead». A harsh buzzer screeched in her ear, just one tone, but sounding to her like the voice of a banshee, reading off the words. You are Dead, the banshee shrieked. You are dead, dead, dead. "You're just... a child... why..."
Then she shattered into speckled cerulean flecks, rising and vanishing into the air.
Silica stared, eyes wide open, unable to move, unable to even blink, not noticing when the pistol slipped out of her slackened grip, barely even noticing when her legs stopped supporting her and she fell to her knees in the mud.
Many meters behind her, Rosalia watched the cursor above Silica's head turn from green to orange, and let her mouth form into a grin. She nudged the man beside him with her elbow. "How 'bout that, Chrissen? Happened just like he said it would."
"Did we have to do this?" the man asked. "We... I thought this would be redeeming. We could have found someone else, trained up ourselves..."
"Oh, boo-hoo, cry me a river. Don't over think things, Chrissen. This is complicated enough as it is."
«Castle Carnation» was an ambitious game. No one would deny that. But the ambition of the endeavor came from the scope of the world and the information density, not from innovative mechanics. Other MMORPGs featured complex, interconnected aspects of combat, designed to balance and counter one another. «CC» lacked such features. There was no class system; no artificially dedicated healers, debuffers, or tanks.
Skill allocations could be considered a form of class specialization, as niche skills existed that could aid in combat, such as «Engineering» and «Acrobatics». Equipment choice could be considered another: players could choose to stay stocked with specialized ammunition or consumables like grenades. Despite these variances, the core of combat was the same for every player: pointing a gun at the opponent and shooting. There was no scouring through lists of dozens of esoteric abilities to discover perfect combos for specific situations. And though squad tactics—clever positioning to maximize the effectiveness of each squad member —existed, all they did was slice an encounter into microcosms, governed by the same shooting, like a repetitive problem being fed to parallel processors.
There were players who argued that this view of the system was incorrect, that there was far more complexity to the system than there seemed, brought out by subtle differences between play styles and gun traits. Kirito saw the truth to lie somewhere between these absolutes. «Castle Carnation» was like a 'hack-and-slash' game translated to firearms, but even the most bombastic hack-and-slashers featured critical moments, when split-second decisions and reactions could make all the difference.
It was with this in mind that he held up a hand, halting their small squad on the platform of planks before the wooden gateway out of «Friben».
"Before we go," Kirito said, looking each of his companions in the eye, "we ought to talk about this. About fighting other players. This is serious."
Argo nodded subtly, and Asuna's facial expression tensed. Neither disagreed with him, so he continued.
"This is more of a action game than a tactics game. You need accurate shooting, and though maneuvering and tactics can help, they aren't as important. Think Call of Duty versus Counter Stri-"
"LALALALA," Argo sang loudly in interruption, pressing her hands into the sides of her hood, covering her ears. "I did n-not just hear you compare this game to Call of-"
"Uh, scratch that comparison then. Kingdom Hearts to Final Fantasy? Mario to Braid?"
Argo sighed, taking her hands off her ears. "As much as it pains me to admit it, both of those were worse examples than your first one."
"Hey, Mario!" Asuna said. "He's the red one who jumps in the pipes, right?"
"Yes, yes. Very good," Kirito said, resisting the urge to facepalm. (Beside him, Argo had less willpower and succumbed to the same urge.) "So all three of us have at least decent aim. But here's the thing. When you're in «PvP», the mechanics are all the same, but you have to think about a lot more."
All three of them, even Asuna, having literally lived inside the game for several months, were very familiar with the terms «PvE» and «PvP». One stood for 'Player versus Environment'—combat against spawned, game-controlled monsters—and the other for 'Player versus Player'—fighting between human avatars.
"It was fun in beta," Argo reminisced. "Now, though..."
"It's unthinkable," Asuna said. "It's like shooting at someone for real."
"Except it isn't unthinkable," Argo said somberly. "It happens more often than you might think."
"We're thinking of it right now," Kirito pointed out.
Asuna paused. "But we won't be trying to hurt anyone. We're trying to save Silica..."
"Never has a war been fought for the sole purpose of killing," Argo said. "Yet, killing has been necessary. If we don't handle this properly, it could be us or them. Kill or be killed. We've got to be prepared for that possibility."
"I... I won't do it," Asuna resolved. "I won't kill another player. Even if they're shooting at me. I... I couldn't."
Argo opened her mouth to reply, but Kirito was faster."That's good," he said. "That's how it should be. Our goal is to make them give up Silica... with luck, we won't have to fire a single shot." Argo turned away and closed her mouth slowly, not quite content with his answer.
"Do we know why they kidnapped her?" Asuna asked, looking at Argo. "If we want them to let her go, it's important that we find out why they wanted her in the first place..."
"I didn't ask," Argo said, tersely.
"It's okay," Kirito said. "In the end, it'll be a face-off, and what's important is appearing as though we have an advantage... and, if for whatever reason, shooting does start, making sure we don't die. So pay close attention. If I were to ask you what the most important thing to focus on during combat—all kinds of combat—is, what would you answer me with?"
"That's a weird way of asking that question," Asuna said. "I'd say... distance. The most critical aspect of combat is optimization of distance. You want to be at the range where your weapon has a higher effective DPS than your enemy's. Shotgun users try to close the distance, rifle users try to keep ranges wide, all players try to keep distance from melee enemies. That's why it's important for squad members to have different weapon skills: you want the ability for at least one person to engage favorably from whatever range you find yourself at, giving everyone else opportunity to reposition."
Kirito had to think for a few seconds. "That's a good answer. But in «PvP», it's not the most complete. It's not just about distance, but positioning as a whole. You have to think about the situation and what's possible in the situation: what's around you, what can be used as cover, and the angles from which you are vulnerable."
"Well... okay, I get that. I use cover all the time in «PvE», too..."
"I don't think he explained that very well," Argo interrupted. "«PvP» is critically different from «PvE» because your opponent has as much of a self-preservation instinct as you do. They're not always masterminds, but they're human. They respond and adapt, and sometimes do things that you don't expect and can't predict."
Asuna turned towards her. "Do you mean... are you talking about «Focus Fire»?"
"No, actually," Argo said. "«Focus Fire» is rare in «PvP». You know the kind of concentration it takes to do it. You were saying just earlier how you wouldn't want to kill someone... that's a fairly common desire, even among those who commit crimes and end up in the orange. You think you'd be able to concentrate enough to «Focus Fire», knowing that your shooting could take a life? But I wasn't referring to just focus fire.
"Even if it seems certain that you will lose, retaliate. Neither wisdom nor technique has a place in this. A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams.
"That's from the Hagakure. Medieval spiritual guidelines for being a warrior, basically, but I digress. I meant that humans are strange. We aren't like perfect AIs. We've got the fight or flight instincts, and sometimes we just act stupid. We gamble, and not always intelligently. So, «PvP» is an exercise in caution. Make no assumptions. Always be aware of your environment, and position yourself to be exposed to as few angles as possible. Place yourself in your enemy's shoes: imagine the riskiest, most idiotic decision you could make, and be aware that they could have taken an action ten times crazier. A maniac might well be willing to use «Focus Fire» against us. Never, ever take risks, or you could lose your life for it."
Kirito let out a breath, slowly and loudly. "Sheesh. It's scary to hear you talk like that. But, Asuna, she's right, as always. We have to be ready for anything. Come on, let's not waste any more time here."
He stepped through the gate, out of «Friben»'s safe zone unto the first bridge of many. Asuna moved to follow him, but before she'd taken two steps, Argo tugged at the sleeve of her white jacket.
"What is it?"
Argo spoke with her head lowered, very quietly. "You're... sure you're ready for this, Asu-chan? This... could be ugly. It's a side of the game that I don't think you've yet seen... and... if there comes a time when you have to choose between shooting and not shooting... choosing between life and death, either for yourself or for someone else... are you ready for that, Asuna? Do you think, if that happens, you'll be able to live with your choice?"
"I..." Asuna closed her eyes and sighed. "...Is anyone, ever, who makes that choice, really prepared to answer that question when they make it?"
"There's one piece of information I don't know," Argo said. "Do you trust me, Asuna?"
"'Course I do. We've been friends for months."
Argo opened a trade window and transferred a single item.
«Smoke Grenade», its description read. Color: White. Duration: 60 seconds. Coverage: Approx. 5 meter radius, dependent on wind.
"It's over-camouflage: even players with high «Searching» skill can't detect you if you're in it. If... when I give you the signal to, use that. Pull the pin and drop it at your feet, immediately. Don't waste time asking why. Can you promise me that?"
"Okay," Asuna promised, materializing the short cylindrical canister and slipping it into a pocket on her pants. "Thanks."
"You two coming or what?" Kirito called to them from some distance away.
So they went.
They quickly left the tree house conglomerate of «Friben» behind, walking mostly in silence.
It was difficult to talk, Asuna found, when you were looking down, placing your feet carefully to avoid falls. Even when they walked over the wider branches, and could take attention away from their footwork, Asuna was disinclined to speak: their surroundings were breathtaking. She suspected she'd have to travel close to the other side of the world to see a similar sight in reality. Perhaps a physical counterpart wouldn't even live up to the countless living columns, cascaded over by the low, uneven light filtered through layer upon layer of leaves.
All fake, Asuna had to remind herself. The world they were in was bizarre. In some ways, so utterly believable, and in others, so blatantly artificial. But the longer she was there, the more those seemingly artificial things—igniting lamps by tapping them, bartering with salesmen using a hovering menu, cleaning guns through a rhythm game —became natural to her.
She had to wonder: if they remained in the game long enough, would, someday, everything about this simulated world seem perfectly natural to them? Would they lose themselves in the fantasy that trapped them?
It was a haunting possibility, and immediately the environment around her seemed several degrees less magnificent. Asuna blinked, clearing away the absentmindedness that had claimed her for most of the trip.
They were halfway across an utilitarian bridge, consisting of just four ropes, stretched from one high branch to another. The upper two served as handrails, and the lower two had boards running between them. The boards creaked when stepped on, and some had gaps between them large enough to be worrisome for those with small feet or poor balance, and whole construction swayed not unsubstantially in the wind.
At some point in their trek, Argo had taken the lead, and now stepped nimbly from board to board. Asuna followed her, and Kirito brought up the rear.
"I don't like this place," Asuna established. "It's so far in the air, but you're stuck on these tiny walkways, and the leaves stop you from seeing the sky. It's, I don't know, claustrophobic?"
"What sky?" Kirito argued. "All we'd see is the same old ceiling."
"I like this area, actually," Argo said. "The colors are all right. Familiar. Like, earthy, you know."
"I guess so," Asuna admitted. "But I don't feel very down-to-earth right now."
"Don't tell me the great Eagle-san isn't good with heights," Kirito said. "How ironic would that be..."
"I'm fine with heights!" Asuna retorted. "It's the situation, not the surroundings. And stop it with the 'great eagle-san blah blah.' At least I have an epithet, mister always-wears-black..."
"I'll pretend I remember what 'epithet' means. And what's wrong with black?"
"You're kind of obsessed..." she said, thoughtfully. "I mean, I get that you'd want to be color-coordinated, but sometimes you're running around in equipment that's all out-of-date... that's not the point, though. We've both been in nearly every boss raid."
"So?"
"I think you need a nickname."
"I think you need to join a guild."
"I told you, I haven't been interested."
"So someone has offered!" Kirito deduced. "About time! Who is it? «RDM»? It's them, isn't it?"
Asuna paused, and Kirito bumped into her back. "Hey!" he bemoaned. "Don't just stop like that! You know how easy it is to miss a step and fall here?"
"I've been getting offers for awhile," Asuna said sharply before continuing along. "«RDM»'s a bunch of pompous jerks. They don't deserve to call themselves beaters. What's with your insistence that I join a guild? Diabel and his squad do fine without one, and you're even a solo player. Hypocritical, much?"
Behind her, he shrugged; Asuna couldn't see it, but she felt the motion through the tone of his voice. "Me being solo doesn't mean I recommend being solo..."
"Hi. Po. Crite," Asuna said, emphasizing each syllable.
They'd made it about three-quarters of the way across the bridge when Argo halted, also halting the two behind her. "Did you hear that?"
She flipped her hood back and held unto just the left handrail rope, with her right hand cupped behind her ear to aid her hearing.
"I don't hear anything," Kirito said.
"May-be be-cause you're tal-king so loud-ly?" Argo responded, her nasal accent exaggerated as she kept her voice quiet. "I heard shots just now. You know what that means."
Kirito glanced at a gap in the planks below him and shifting his hands along the rail ropes nervously. "Not sure I do. If we're going to try and be sneaky, could we at least get off this bridge first?"
Asuna suppressed a snicker. "Now who's scared of-"
"Shh," Argo repeated, but acquiesced and resumed her progress across, carefully placing her foot unto the next plank.
After a few minutes, they finally picked their way across to relatively stable footing. "Shots," Argo explained quietly as Kirito sighed in relief. "If we can hear them, they're close: close enough for them to hear us talking, if they're paying attention."
"Right," Kirito whispered. "Because gun sounds are lowered."
The 'loudness' of a gunshot varied based on an immense number of factors, including the type of gun, type of bullet, topography of the surrounding area, and even climate. On an objective scale of 'loudness,' real gun discharges would rank at 'painfully loud.' «Castle Carnation»'s sound engine was modeled accurately for the most part, but, for the sake of players' enjoyment, gunfire and explosion sounds were scaled down across the board, so weapons could be fired comfortably without ear protection, and voice communication in squad firefights could be more feasible.
"Can you tell where they are?" Kirito asked.
"You're the one with «Searching»," Argo reminded Kirito in a whisper, leaning against the trunk they had reached. From one of her many pockets, she extracted a handgun, gray with even darker gray panels on its grip.
It was a «Radom Vis», a valuable piece for their level. Its real life counterpart was Polish-designed, manufactured in the era of the second world war. Kirito had recently purchased information about it, looking to upgrade from the old «M1911» that had been his sidearm since the fifth floor. While in reality the two were very similar guns, in-game the «Vis» was vastly superior: slightly more accurate, significantly more durable, and nearly two times as damaging. Its price was naturally far higher. Kirito hadn't been willing to spend such a sum on a mere sidearm, but he wasn't surprised to see a «Vis» in Argo's hands; players whose used primarily pistols and had their skills trained accordingly were willing to make the investment.
"The dungeon region is right in front of us. See anything?" Argo whispered as she pulled the «Vis»'s slide back and then let it slot forwards, chambering a bullet.
"I've got «Searching», not «Spotting»," he pointed out. "And, really, you don't have either? Doesn't it fit with your whole sneaky info broker thing?"
"I've needed the slots for other things. And keep your voice down."
"Sorr-"
"Who's there?!" a rough voice demanded, carrying through the air, bouncing off trees, causing strange echoes that seemed to come from all directions.
"Oops," Kirito said, not feeling quite as guilty as perhaps he should have. "Well, no point in trying to be stealthy now."
"Hey!" Kirito shouted in no particular direction. "«Titan's Hand», right?"
"Yeah," the voice answered. "What's our guild to you?"
"A couple days ago you idiots kidnapped someone... We know you're keeping her here! What are you doing with her!?"
"Oh, the girl? Don't worry about her, she's fine, if a bit dirty. What do you want us to do? Give her to you? Sorry, don't think we can do that. We're not the kind of criminal scum that..."
As he droned on, Argo tugged briefly on Kirito's sleeve. He turned, eyebrow raised in question, and she gestured downwards. "You heard him," she said quietly. "'A bit dirty.' She's down below. If he's keeping watch up here, she can't be far off. Probably right ahead of us, inside of the dungeon zone. You two can jump down and go after her."
"Jump?!" Asuna was not impressed. "Like, all the way down? Are you serious?"
"The fall shouldn't cause you too much damage, if you land in the right place," Argo assured. "You two go. I'll stay here and keep this guy distracted. But at least one of you stay out of the dungeon zone, so we can stay in contact."
"Are you sure?" Kirito asked. "Us two are front-liners. Will you be alright on your own?"
"I'll join you below if anything happens," Argo said. "Go!"
"Okay," Kirito drew in a breath, peering down into the dark. He looked sideways at Asuna. "Uh... ladies firs-"
Argo sighed and gave him a light shove with her free hand. "Ack!" he sputtered in surprise, stumbling off the edge. The sound of unsavory remarks directed at Argo wafted up as he fell.
Asuna shook her head and stepped off the branch after him.
Should I have done that? Argo thought, the knot in her stomach growing. What if they reach her before-
"Hey! Guy!" Argo shouted. There was no answer.
"Are you list-en-ing?"
Still no answer. Smart. Making noise could reveal one's position, knowledge that could easily turn the tide of a fight.
Argo wasn't planning on starting a fight, however.
"Your name is Luthien," Argo called. "You have brown hair and black eyes. Your weapon specialization was in rifles, now carbines. List-en-ing now?"
"Wha-How the hell did you know that?" came a quick response. "A-and you haven't answered my question! What are you doing here?"
"I should be the one asking you that question," Argo called. "But I'm not. You know why? Because I already know the answer. You remember who I am?"
"Should I?"
No, Argo thought. "Yes," Argo said. "Half a month ago, «Titan's Hand» attacked a small single-squad guild known as «Silver Flags». The attack yielded significantly less profit than «Titan's Hand» had expected, but shortly after, you purchased for yourself three highly expensive pieces of equipment, almost as if you had recently obtained some large fortune... No honor among thieves, I guess."
"What's that got to do with anything!? You... be quiet about that!"
"No brains among thieves either, I take it. You're sure you want to be talking in that tone to me?" Argo slowly leaned around the tree trunk she used as cover, in the direction she suspected her adversary stood. "I swear. I didn't come here to make insults. Is there someone less clueless I can talk to around? Rosalia, maybe?"
"How do you know... we're making you leave now! Our guild has claimed this dungeon zone! Scram!"
Argo smiled and grimaced at once. "I don't have the time for this. We don't have the time for this. Poor, poor Luthien. Surely you're able to put two and two together now."
"W-what do you mean? Who are you?"
"Only the reason you're here, Luthien," Argo said, now purely grimacing. "Phase one's done, I'm here to check in. Get it now?"
Kirito shook himself. "Not cool," he opined, retrieving his «PPSh-41» from his back. He brushed the mud off and pulled up its status window to check its durability.
"Kind of your own fault," Asuna told him, slapping her own jacket clean. She'd hit the water more gracefully, toes first, but the grace with which you were submerged in muddy water didn't much affect how dirty it made you.
Since making it down they'd made it away from the deeper water; the mud around them was now just ankle deep.
"Am I really being a hypocrite?" Kirito asked as they walked.
"Yes," Asuna answered easily. "You go alone, yet insist that I join a guild."
"It's... I just do better when I'm alone. The goal is to clear the game as soon as possible, right? Other people just slow me down."
"Would I slow you down?" Asuna asked innocently, stretching her neck to check their surroundings.
Kirito hesitated. "Um... "
"And weren't you the one who told me, quite explicitly, that the point wasn't just to clear the game as fast as possible?"
"I meant it was okay to relax now and again," Kirito clarified. "I didn't mean we should stop trying, or make it any less of a priority. Just that we should try and have fun while we're doing it."
"And you have fun? Playing solo?"
"I do," Kirito responded honestly. "It's, I don't know, empowering? But the main thing really is that I can just level faster alone. And that's what we want, right? To beat the game, we need levels, and I'm getting them."
"Maybe. So why do you want me to join a guild?"
"Well... squad play is, ah, significantly safer..."
Asuna crossed her arms. "Oh, so that's what it's about, is it?"
Oops. "Huh?"
"You think I need protection," Asuna accused. "You don't think I'm good enough."
"No!" Kirito denied immediately. "That's not..."
"Not...? Really? What is it, then?"
"I was just... suggesting," he supplied meekly. "I wasn't implying you aren't good enough. Just hoping you wouldn't... I don't know, take as many risks as me? Just wanted you to try and be more safe."
Asuna sighed, her eyes fixated on one corner of her vision. "Yeah, okay. You can be quite the reckless idiot at times. But I'll play how I want to play, thank you."
"I see them," Kirito reported. Asuna looked around again for herself, but saw nothing.
"«Searching» skill is revealing them?" she guessed.
"Yeah," he said. "Three cursors up ahead, less than fifty meters. Two orange, one green. There's a small clearing there, I think."
"We have to get our positioning right," Asuna said. "Are we in the dungeon zone?"
Kirito checked his minimap. "The border's right in front of us. All we have to do is get Silica away from them. Don't worry," he said, giving a reassuring smile. "It'll be a piece of cake."
"What exactly are we trying to do again?"
"Make them surrender," Kirito reviewed. "Surprise them. Make releasing Silica the best option available to them."
"Fight or flight, though," Asuna muttered. "You're sure this is going to work? What if they just start shooting?"
"We'll... improvise," Kirito said.
"That's not exactly comforting. I'm worried about this," Asuna admitted. "There's so much that could go wrong."
"We defend ourselves and Silica. That's what's important."
"Okay," Asuna said, pointing decisively at the minimap hovering before her. "Here's the plan. Argo said one of us should try and stay out of the dungeon zone, right? You move up as close as you can while staying on this side of the dungeon border. I'll flank to our right, to a position where I can watch and shoot if I need to. Once I'm ready, I'll send you a message, and you'll move up to confront them. I'll stay outside of the border in case Argo needs to send us something urgent."
"Sounds good."
"I'll tell Argo, and then we can get going."
"Wait..." The voice in the trees paused, putting together facts, reaching a conclusion. "Are you..."
"That's right," Argo said, a bead of sweat rolling off her forehead as she kept her voice steady. "I am."
"You're him," the voice realized. "You're... our...?"
"Almost right. I know who I am," Argo said, her teeth clenched, stepping out from cover. She raised her «Vis» pistol, training it on a branch several dozen meters away, where she expected the man to appear.
"Oh!" she heard the man pant. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize..."
He popped into her view, directly in her sights, almost immediately spotting the gun trained at him. "Woah... it was a mistake, alright?"
Argo frowned under her hood, holding «Vis»'s sights on the man for several long seconds before forcing herself to take her finger off the trigger and lower the gun.
"Sorry," she forced out. "We're all nervous here, right now, that's all. The...meeting... today. Phase one. Did it... work?"
As she finished speaking, an orange message notification snapped into her view. She tapped it open and read it, her eyes flashing over the short lines in seconds.
"Just like you thought it would," the man answered as she read. "We were going to message you, and then try the second thing tomorrow. Nice of you to check up on us in person."
"No time," Argo said, frantically tapping out a response, finding herself breathing heavily. "Phase two, now. Right this instant. Get out of here."
"Uh, I'd love to tell you we could do that, but Rosalia and Chrissen are still down in the dungeon with our guest. There's no way to get a message to them. You... ah... you weren't serious about the «Silver Flags» thing... were you?"
"Phase two," Argo repeated, tapping 'send' and holstering her «Vis», "White signal. You and everyone you can reach, go. I'll get to Rosalia." She took a step and then hopped off her branch, plunging downwards.
"Guess I'll never know," Luthien grumbled to himself, materializing an «NTB» device from his inventory.
Asuna swiped open her menu. Ahead of her, a gap between trees let her see into the sodden clearing. She was still too far for her to see their cursors, but that worked both ways: without «Searching» or «Spotting», she was still effectively invisible.
[Ready.]
Asuna hit 'send.' Shortly afterward, there was a clattering of automatic gunfire. She was about to dismiss her menu when the orange icon of an incoming message appeared.
[Use the smoke. Now. No time to explain.] -Argo
Asuna remembered. She took the smoke grenade from her pants pocket, pulled its pin, and let it drop to the ground next to her. The cylinder immediately began spewing thick light-gray fumes, growing into a cloud that soon completely encompassed her.
She was hidden, but, equivalently, the world was hidden from her: all she could see was the grayish smoke before her eyes.
Through the smoke came the sound of more shots: three of them, not automatic, but in quick succession.
What's going on out there?
[Ready.] -Asuna
Kirito nodded to himself and sprinted forwards, each step sending up a glob of mud behind him. He planted his feet at the edge of the clearing, saw the area name change from cherry pink to solid red, and, with his gun held at his hip, depressed its trigger. The first five rounds of the fifty round drum hit the ground in a line across the clearing, each sending up an eruption of brown particulate.
Rosalia rapidly turned to face him and lifted her «Gewehr 98». Chrissen, adjacent to her, rose from a crouch and produced an unremarkable pistol, holding it ready while his head swiveled, looking in all directions.
"Who're you?" she demanded. "What do you want?"
"Game's up," Kirito said. "We're Silica's friends, and, maybe more important to you, we're beaters. Let her go!"
Silica's eyes met his, and Kirito was thrown off by the look on her face. Lisbeth had described her as cheerful, sometimes rebellious, always energetic as if caffeine fed into her through an unseen IV drip. But her mouth and cheeks drooped, not a frown, but sign of an unwillingness to put any effort into a facial expression at all. Her eyes were marbles of red, but muted, glossed-over, tired.
Then Kirito looked up and took in the greatest surprise of all. The geometric pointer that he saw floating above Silica was one of the orange ones.
"Ah, there must be some sort of misunderstanding," Rosalia said smoothly, her gun remaining pointed at him as she twirled her own hair, as if proudly displaying the green cursor above.
"What... what's going on here?" Kirito demanded. "You... you're the green player? Not Silica? What have you done?"
"More than you," Rosalia touted. "Beater, are you? How's that working out?"
Chrissen leaned down and spoke into Silica's ear. "Do you know him?"
"No..." she admitted.
"Shit. Silica, take out your «NTB»."
"But... the towns have automatic defense... and I'm... I'm..."
"It'll be okay. Remember this: «Floria». You've wanted to go there, right? «Floria»."
Chrissen saw Silica's eyes dart towards the black-clad intruder, and then back to him. "Look," Chrissen scrambled to say. "I know we haven't exactly been the nicest of patrons, but what we're trying here is way, way important. You're orange now, permanently, and that sucks. That's scary. We can help you. And you can help us."
"Criminals like you wouldn't care," Kirito said in response to Rosalia. "Now let her go! This is your last warning!"
"Thanks," Rosalia said, and fired first, not remotely caring as the system detected the malicious act and shifted her player cursor to orange. The shot hit Kirito in the center chest, and Kirito, having predicted that it was coming, used the knockback to aid his movement, stepping in reverse and then to the side to get into cover behind a tree, with second and third shots from Rosalia just missing him as he did so.
Kirito checked his health bar: 6,004 of 6350 remaining. Still good. He peeked around his tree and was rewarded by a bullet straight to his face, thankfully not «Focus Fire»'d, knocking his health down to 5,521. Scowling and digging up medi-foam to apply to himself, he wondered why there was no sign of Asuna. Where is she? She's supposed to be on overwatch, keeping them pinned...
Chrissen spotted something through the trees, a growing plume of white fumes, distinct against the prevalent browns. "Rosalia," he said. "The signal. To our left. White."
Rosalia sighed and lowered her gun. "Alright. You're going, then."
"Silica," Chrissen said, shaking the girl's shoulder. "You hearing me?"
Silica tore her eyes away from Kirito's position and focused on him. "Y-yeah."
"We're going someplace safer," Chrissen said. "You and me. Are you okay with that?"
"Safer?"
There was a harsh clattering, and bullets whizzed all around them.
"Those were warning shots!" they heard Kirito yell. "Surrender and put down your weapons, or I'll actually aim the next ones!"
"Yes, safer," Chrissen insisted. "Got your «NTB»?"
She did, handling it gingerly in her palm.
Chrissen and Rosalia pulled out ones of their own. "Alright, then," Chrissen said. "Rosalia isn't perma-orange, so she'll be going somewhere different, but we're going to «Floria». You know how to use «NTB»s, right? Just say 'teleport' and then the destination name."
"But..." Silica sputtered. "It won't let us go to «Floria». That's the forty-seventh floor. We haven't reached it; the gate hasn't been unlocked yet-"
"It'll work," Chrissen said, flatly. "Our contact hasn't been wrong yet. Sure, we're all taking shots in the dark, but... okay. Ready?"
Kirito peeked again and immediately picked out the glow of the «NTB» in Rosalia's hand against the dark of the mire. "No you don't," he grumbled, grabbing a chrome «EMP grenade» from his belt, holding down its activation button and rearing his arm back to throw.
He swung his arm forward, but before it had moved more than three inches, it was caught on something. Kirito looked behind himself, and his eyes widened. Standing there, grasping his right wrist firmly, was Argo, her stance aggressive, and her face obscured by her lowered hood.
"What are you doing!?" Kirito exclaimed. "If I don't hit them with this, they're going to-"
"Don't," Argo said, and for a moment Kirito thought that he'd made a mistake, that the figure before him holding back his arm was not in fact Argo, but someone else, with that voice full of steel.
"Let them go," Argo said, and Kirito relaxed marginally, hearing the hints of Argo's normal accent in the speech of the figure facing him.
But of course he couldn't relax, because before them were criminals, in possession of Silica, about to make their escape. He had to stop them. He had to throw the «EMP». He twisted his shoulder back again, but Argo retained her grip on his arm; he tried shaking her off, but she tackled him in response, dragging both of them down to the ground.
"Forget about it," Argo said, breathing heavily, keeping Kirito's arm pinned to the ground with her leg. "The only places they could go with those are towns, where they'd either be instantly arrested, or-"
"Teleport!" Rosalia shouted. "«Ralberg»!" Blue and cyan particles swirled around her, obscuring her, and then whisking her off.
"Our turn," Chrissen said to Silica. "I'll go first. You'll be right behind me. Right?" He didn't wait for a full response. "Teleport! «Floria»!" He, too, was consumed in a dance of blue light.
Silica watched the glittering particles float up into the sky, and glanced at the tree line briefly before making her choice. "Teleport!" she called out, holding the «NTB» she had been given out in front of her, focusing on its intricate electronic whorls, hoping—no, begging—that it would take her to someplace better, lead to some future that meant more. "«Floria»!"
The «EMP grenade» had slipped from his hand and plopped into the mud, activated. Its glowing saffron band intensified until it was painful to look at, and then the grenade burst, thrumming the air in a circle around them. A limited circle. It was too far, and too late, to make a difference.
Kirito finally broke free of Argo's pinning, or perhaps she'd finally just let him go. He stood, looked, and his heart sank into his chest.
Silica, and the two members of «Titan's Hand», were gone.
Argo was hunched over, back against a tree. Her cloak was dirtied from her brief grapple, her hands were on her knees, and she drew in deep breaths. Kirito watched her do so, and maybe she felt his gaze on her, questioning, angry, but she didn't look up to acknowledge it.
Argo, Kirito thought, lacking the spirit to say the words aloud. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
~
"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."
-William Blake
