Date Posted: 25th May 2024
The Kirito Corporation returns for another season, loyal customers.
It has been 3 years, 3 months and 23 days, or 1208 days.
"The first rule of F***t C**b is you don't - UNINTELLIGIBLE."
- Graffiti in the alleys of the Maul
On the busy streets of Qar Hadast, two men bumped into each other.
The first man, a son of a rich merchant, demanded an apology. He cursed the other man and insults him for his short height, his stupid beard, and his tacky clothes.
The other man was a dwarf, married, father of three children, grandfather of six. He was a stevedore, who loads and unloads cargo from ships, and has been doing so for a hundred and nineteen years. A proud man, he immediately took offense to this uppity rich boy.
Nearby, people were already watching the argument, waiting for it to turn into a duel - the lingua franca amongst many of the port cities of Aincrad.
Duels came in many forms - plains champions stealing each other's horses, judicial brawls in full plate, and archery duels on the steppes. More often than not, and likely in the case of this particular one, it would end at first blood - a shallow cut to the chest with the two men's swords.
What no one was expecting was both men throwing away their weapons - the dwarf's club and the merchant's son's dagger - and started beating the ever living shit out of each other.
Immediately, a member of the Beggars Guild threw what little coin he had in his bowl into the water and started taking bets as everyone from sailors to travelers to pilgrims and even the local militia cheered on their chosen man.
The outsider shook his head at the savagery of it all from the comfort of the verandah. "This happen often?" he asked.
The tea shop owner shrugged apologetically, the same way as if his dog was caught taking a piss on something it shouldn't be at. "At least thrice a day."
"You Hadasti sure like to get in a lotta fights."
"What can I say, it's in our blood," said the dwarf, and the outsider noted he did not side with either the human or the dwarf.
He made his move. "Hmm. Maybe I could get into it. Maybe there's, y'know …"
"A what, sir?"
He thought carefully about it. "A … place … a club! Of sorts. Where people discuss things … with their fists? If you catch my meaning."
The tea shop owner looked at him very carefully, looking left and right before sliding a piece of paper between the outsider's tea cup and saucer. "You didn't hear it from me."
The outsider finished and paid for his drink, and walked back to his inn. He would later hear both the dwarf and the merchant's son knocked each other out, and no one was able to claim the bets, and the local guards had to rush and crack skulls before someone set fire to the ships and buildings.
Ah, civilisation.
The dock markets of Qar Hadast was bustling with trade and haggling. Situated on the 21st Floor, tens of thousands of Clearers were in their own tent cities outside the ancient dwarven city. They had been there for two weeks already, ever since the Clearers slew the Floor Boss back on the 20th Floor. The mercenary captains of the guilds were in serious discussion with the Council of the city for war.
What war? Well, nobody really knew but where there was war, there was profit to be made.
Great steel cranes loaded and unloaded cargo from merchant cogs from a dozen nations as burly dwarves moved in formation more like soldiers than dock walkers. Bravos, young men and women wearing garish colours, strutted the streets like peacocks, looking for fights, drink and pleasure. Sailors were thrown out of one bar and immediately went to the next, repeating the cycle.
It was a strange city, so far into these cold lands but such was the way of the Dark Sea. It was a body of water that transcended at least a dozen Surfaces, where Outsiders who call themselves Players had come to wage war against the Plains Beasts. The players could not ascend the higher Surfaces until they destroyed or plundered a great danger, why they did so the denizens of the castle could not say. But their great armies have recently defeated the great Thunderbird and their soldiers marched their way to Qar Hadast for more contracts. Unlike the monarchies that made up most of Aincrad, the city was ruled by an elite council, headed by two elected magistrates called the Suffetes.
There was some animosity between the peoples of Qar Hadast, primarily made up of dwarves, and their more traditional mountain-kin. The dwarves, like the elves, were amongst the few peoples who withstood the wrath of the sorcerer-kings. Qar Hadast both fought with and against them, never siding entirely with any faction, always on their own side.
When Lord Aincradius and his Alliance of Light came to rid the world of sorcerer-kings and their vatborn armies, for the first time in their history, the merchants of Qar Hadast sided with the powerful warlord, and the rest was history. It is said that the contract between Aincradius and the city still exists in the great library of the city.
Many of the dwarven kingdoms, the elves, and the human princedoms still viewed these shrewd businessmen with suspicion and hostility, never fading as they made trade deals and alliances with the great city.
Between the Outsiders and their mercenary companies, the boyars and their druzhina, rapacious kozaki, the plains tribes and their braves, the families of the ancient sorcerer-kings, and the shrewd merchants of Qar Hadast, it was a city brimming with opportunity, adventure and danger.
Or, at least that's what the outsider did remember from Harry One's lecture. He left that sorta lore for him. Can't find money if it's too stuffed with history.
As he made his way to his dwellings, he opened the door to his room with a kick. "My fellow samurai! I found a way to make us some cas -"
He looked about the room, a rented attic above a pawn shop that was totally not a front for the local gangsters for sure, and found a single letter on the room's only table.
He read it:
Ryoutarou,
We decided to take a break from the adventuring thing. It's a brief thing, don't worry too much about it. No hard feelings and all that. It's not you, it's us. We'll see ya' in a month or so.
Signed, your brothers in the FuurinKazan,
- Dale, Dynamn, Harry One, Issin, Kunimitz
He reread the letter a dozen times over. After finally comprehending what the letter wrote, he placed it back on the desk, and went to his cot. Reaching for the bottle of expensive wine from his footlocker, he drank half of it in one go.
Later that night, he arrived at the club reeking of alcohol. The man behind the counter wasn't even surprised at his state.
The scribe didn't even bother looking up from his papers. "Name, how much you betting and who you wanna fight?"
He slammed a pouch of coins, his entire savings, onto the counter. "The name's Klein, and I need you to throw me the biggest bastard you've got!"
The punch came at him like a brick to the face. Which was fitting, because the dwarf before him was called Durgar Brickfist, and his fists had the texture of bricks, thus the name.
But Klein felt no pain. Players were simply unable to, a small mercy granted by the mad god Kayaba. And even if he was, the alcohol would have dulled it. Yet the strike sent him sprawling against the cage all the same, making him spit blood to the roar of the crowd.
Nausea and headaches, however, were still very much a thing.
Durgar Brickfist, like most dwarves, was stout and strong, twice as wide as the common human, and could take a beating harder than most. More pitbull than man, and with the personality and face to match it, he was one of the better fighters in the Maul's Pit.
Imagine a shithole of a town. And that town has a seedy part of it. And that seedy part of town has a street that's the worst of them all. The Maul was that for Qar Hadast - some twenty blocks of poorly built apartments, home to far too many people and was considered unsafe according to city ordinances. Militia dared not enter it, lest they be waylaid by local gangsters as fierce as any dungeon monster. It was a section of a hive of scum and villainy where even the scum and villains dared not enter.
And here he was at the heart of it - a city block hollowed out, made of rickety wood and questionable masonry.
He went for a tackle at Klein's hips but the yojimbo shot his foot forward, breaking Durgar's already busted nose.
The taller fighter pounced on the fallen dwarf and kneed him in his stomach. It was like kneeing into a sandbag and just as effective. Twice, thrice Klein attacked only to suddenly get decked in the jaw with an elbow pummeling his face. He found himself looking at the sun before Durgar's ugly mug blocked it.
"Sorry friend Klein, but I need this win for me grandson's birthday gift."
Thus Durgar brought his Brickfists upon Klein's face before blocking them with his own steel forearms. The crowd cheered as the gladiators went on.
Sorry, no, not gladiators. Pit fighters. Yes, that's the term. To use gladiators would mean slavery, and this was the Castle of Lord Aincradius, where slavery was banned throughout the known world.
Once, in ages past, the sorcerer-kings of the world would host great tournaments to distract their browbeaten populace. Barely better than the slaves that ran the cities themselves. Though slave combat was eventually outlawed, most of it due to Aircradius' companion, Jagganath the Invincible, the gladiator turned general, the culture itself did not. Legal arenas did, with its rules and regulations, but those akin to the olden times still did in less civilised places.
Klein could hear Durgar breathing heavily and took that moment to launch his attack. Catching his brickfist with an open palm, Klein slugged him right in the chin and sent him sprawling. The crowd roared with bloodlust.
He got back up, bits of sand and dried blood digging into his arms. Durgar was on his back, dazed and helpless. The once proud samurai raised a foot. "Sorry, Durgar, you know how it is."
Just as he prepared himself to deliver the finishing blow, something conked him in his right temple, and sent him to oblivion.
When Klein awoke, he was in the healer's room, on a familiar bed, looking at a very familiar face. "I take it I lost, huh, Gaius?"
Gaius was a man about Klein's age, likely an exiled priest of some kind. He simply shrugged and handed the usual concoction of herb to him. "Yep. Good fight, by the way. You really should remember it's not a duel, but a melee of twenty people."
"Yeah, yeah." Weirdly, Klein had excellent tactical acumen when it came to the battlefield but whenever he was in the Pit, all that fighting experience went out the window. He cringed at the herb. "Don't you have any booze?"
"Mister Klein, this is the seventh time this has happened. You need to lay off the drink."
Priest or no, Klein wasn't in the mood for a sermon and changed the subject. "I just hope Durgar's grandkid gets a nice gift for his birthday."
"Drink up quick, the boss wants to talk to you."
Klein made his way to the office, passing the gym that the other pit fighters called their workplace. Burly dwarves made most of the fighters here, off-work sailors and soldiers, the poor and the desperate, as well as people from across the realm. A tattooed tribesman was going at a heavy bag with subpar technique, bearded kozakis were practicing their wrestling, an elf man was throwing knives at a target, and there was even a player jumping rope.
He reached the office of the Pit Master. "Aaah, Mister Klein. Please, take a seat."
The office of Pit Master Gamal had more wealth within it than the FuurinKazan had after a good dungeon haul. The armchair that Klein sat on was made of dreadleather, the desk was made of rich iroko, and even the stationery probably cost more than Klein's arms and armour combined.
Gamal dipped his jade pen in the inkwell, which he joked was made from the hoof of Aincradius' horse, and continued scratching at the parchment. Even the silk doublet he wore was probably worth as much as a good horse.
Yet Pit Master was no rich man's son, but a heavyset businessman who knew his way with words just as much as his way in the pit. Not the best fighter around, but Klein had seen the gangster do terrible things with his golden knuckle dusters.
Gamal produced a pouch of coins and place it on the table. "Your usual fee, with the usual deductions for the debt you owe me. Good fight, that."
Once upon a time, Klein was a noble samurai, on the struggle to free the denizens of SAO from the tyranny of the NerveGear. Now here he was, a drunkard and coinless, serving the local yakuza. He checked the coin pouch - just barely enough to pay for board and bread. How the mighty have fallen.
Klein went straight to the point. "I lost."
"True, but I made a lot of money, so that's what matters," said the black-bearded dwarf. "Regardless, I need you to sober up. Need help with something."
When Gamal said 'help', what he really meant was 'do this job or I'll break your legs, and maybe just maybe give you some cash.' There was no point in arguing against it. That, and he did owe a large amount of debt to the dwarf.
"Yeah sure, whadayya want done?"
The dwarf looked up from his writing. "Excuse me?"
"How could I be of service, Pit Master."
He smiled and returned to his writing. "You know the islands, not too far from here, right?"
"Sure." There were a number of islands in the Dark Sea, most of whom were outposts for slavers, pirates, and pirate-slavers. "Wouldn't want to go anywhere near there!"
"I need you to help someone on a job on one of the islands there."
Goddamnit.
Klein scratched his beard, which he had not shaved for close to a month. Or maybe it was two? Damn him and generational alcoholism. At least he was in no danger of completely destroying his liver as long as he took his daily potions. "I dunno boss, aren't there pirates there?"
"No doubt!"
"And not just pirates, but magic cursed pirates, who can turn themselves and their ships into stone?"
"I have heard rumours but I'm sure that's nothing to worry about. You up for it or not?"
"I don't have my sword." Klein pawned it for booze ages ago.
"Don't worry, just head to the pawn shop and pick it back up. Your armour too. Our new client asked you specifically, you know."
At this Klein raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Indeed, Mister Klein. They speak of your great skill with sword and bow."
Klein stood straight and puffed his chest up. Well, it's good that there are some people out there that remembered the services rendered by his guild. He just wished his gang was doing well at the moment.
"Well, you've buttered me up enough. Alright, I'll do it. Give me the deets."
"Oh, the details aren't with me. It's with her."
"Yo! What's up, samurai?"
It was the player from before, the one jumping rope. She was a short girl, shorter than most women in the game, with messy blonde hair and bright green eyes. Clad in a loose tunic and skirt, she looked no different from the other fighters in the arena. Whiskers and a playful smile adorned her face. "Name's Kanna, nice to meetcha!"
They shook hands and Klein noticed the calluses on her knuckles; a fighter this one. "Klein."
"Don't worry, Klein-san, you'll be paid very well."
"How much?"
She told him.
He whistled. "That is quite a lot. Almost enough to pay off my debt even."
Her voice turned serious. "It's a serious job for a serious man. Are you a serious man, Klein-san?"
Klein stood straight, puffed his chest as dignity returned to him. "You have my blade, Kanna-chan."
"I'm glad. We'll go out first thing in the morning."
"Tomorrow morning? Not this morning?"
"That's when our ride is available, yes."
"Excellent. Now excuse me, I need to -"
Gamal kicked the trash basket over to the pit fighter as he emptied the contents of breakfast into it. Kanna made a face.
The dwarf shrugged as he continued his work. "I don't do refunds."
Klein was paid in advance and had spent a good chunk of that money to tidy himself up. He went to a barber for a trim and a shave, had someone clean his armour and reclaimed his sword. He even cleaned his bandana which he had been using as an impromptu towel for the past couple of months.
Sure, he may have gotten a bit too close with the bottle recently, but he was a goddamn professional so he was gonna act like it.
Yojimbo and client walked through the streets of Qar Hadast to the docks. Sure, Klein a slight hangover, and he had grown something of a pot belly, and he hadn't use his sword for a while, and his quiver of arrows were missing half its arrows, but he had no fear, for much like riding a bike it would come back to him in a second.
"You know, you haven't told me much about this job, Kanna-chan?"
Kanna however just smiled. She was a cute little thing, but a little brawny for his tastes. Real girls simply just didn't have the same simplicity and allure that NPC women have, like Madellline-chan, Aincrad's most beautiful milkmaid.
"It's basic opsec, Klein-san. The less you know, the better. Not until we're at sea."
Klein nodded thoughtfully, pretending to know what 'opsec' was. "Ah, I gotcha. You remind me of someone I know."
Kanna's voice rose a pitch. "Oh, how so?"
"Yeah, this player me and my buddies worked for. A merchant if you can believe it."
"Well that ain't so weird. There's what? Some fifty-thousand players in this game? Makes sense some people would choose to not be Clearers."
"That's not the weird part, he was a character. A real weirdo. Really extravagant, dresses in silk. Had this badass bodyguard with him at all times."
At that, she smiled. "Yeah?"
"Worst guy I ever worked for! Turns out he was using me and my guild to farm this dangerous mini-boss! And we had to wear dresses!"
"I bet you look great in it, Klein-san."
"Damn straight!" he said, striking his breastplate, and immediately felt sorrow at the lack of his friends. If he could just a few thousand Col, clear his debt, and get something cool to impress them …
They arrived at a pier where their employer was waiting. Nearby, shipbuilders were hard at work making warships.
A man sat on the jetty, drinking tea. Age must have hit him like a truck since despite his relatively smooth skin he had a great white beard to match his equally white hair. Stuck into the planks of the pier was a fishing rod and next to it a jar of worms and an empty bucket.
"Yo, Fumio. I gotcha that samurai ya' wanted."
"Well at least someone caught something," said the old man known as Fumio. He was dressed in a sun bleached tunic and pants, a turban the only thing shading him from the sun. There was something off and familiar about him.
Regardless, Klein shook hands - they were soft, unlike Kanna's. "Klein, Captain of the FuurinKazan, yojimbo extraordinaire at your service."
"Fumio the Fishmonger. Where's the rest of your guild?"
"Our last quest involved us going into a dangerous tomb on the previous floor a month ago. Had to fight off undead, fell beasts, and vampires." Klein had spent last night working on the excuse.
"Vampires, you say?" said Fumio.
"Oh yeah, like a whole coven of them. Dozens of filthy bloodsuckers. My brothers-in-arms are still in pain over it."
"But that was over a month ago, are they still hurt?" asked Kanna.
"Ah, that." Klein scratched his beard, thinking quickly. "They were working so hard, I decided to give them a paid time off."
"You're a good boss, Klein-san. Don't see much of those these days,"said Fumio. "Though We may have asked for you, personally, we would have preferred you and your buddies. We may need a small army, for assurance, of course."
Klein thumbed himself. "I am a small army."
Both Fumio and Kanna raised a brow at that.
"If you say so. Get in the boat, I'll explain on the way," said Fumio.
The Dark Sea as befitted the name was almost black, it was one of the most treacherous. Named so for its colour and the legend that it turned so after a great naval battle in ages past. The fishermen, merchants and seamen of the Dark Sea were said to be the bravest in the castle.
It was mid-morning but the Dark Sea was still covered with thick mist. Kanna rowed the boat for them, her wide back and thick arms making for a smooth ride as the lantern at the bow fought to light the way.
Fumio got down to business. "Have you heard what happened to the town of Bakuye, a while ago?"
Klein scrunched his face in thought. "Yeah, I heard about that. There's this outfit doing hit and runs on a lot of towns, now they're moving up to cities last I heard."
"What do you know about it?"
Klein focused through his beer addled mind and tried to recall old information. "If I remember right, it's a new criminal organisation. They call themselves the Forty Thieves, named so because they only recruit the best and brightest bandits, brigands and ne'er do wells in the castle. I even heard that some players have joined em'."
Kanna frowned. "Players joining? This is the first time I've heard of it."
"Well, what can I say, I'm great at networking. Let me guess, some of your stuff got stolen."
Fumio laughed. "That obvious, huh?"
Klein leaned back as his now admittedly grown belly was being too constricted by his cuirass; he really needed to get that check and refitted after this. "Sad to say, this ain't the first time me and the FuurinKazan have to deal with this sorta thing. Most of it is farmer stuff, you know, bandits coming over and taking and wrecking shit."
"Training villagers to fight off a bandit army?" suggested Kanna.
Klein made a face. "Look, I love Seven Samurai as much as the next guy, but there's only so many of the same damn quests we can do before we get bored. So I take it there's something relating to the Forty Thieves here?"
"You're a smart man, Klein-san. I knew there was a reason why I hired you."
"We're almost here," said Kanna as they approached the island.
Though to call it an island was pushing it, more of an islet. But Klein knew that even a small dungeon could be highly dangerous. There were two other people on the beach, their figures hidden by the mists. Klein loosened his katana in his scabbard and readied his bow.
It was not needed as Fumio was the first to disembark the boat to reach the figure. Even hooded, Klein could see the pretty face underneath, a very familiar pretty face.
"Good morning!" he called out.
"Took you long enough. We've been ready for hours and it's almost noon. Be glad we haven't been chased off the island yet," said the stranger.
"Sorry, but I just can't start the day without a few hours of fishing."
Even hooded, Klein could sense the stranger rolling their eyes. "How many times do I have to -"
Fumio cut them off. "I always say 'morning' instead of 'good morning', because if it was a good morning, I'd be fishing."
"You were fishing," said Kanna.
"Yeah, and I didn't even catch anything," he said mournfully.
Now, his head (mostly) freed of drunkenness, Klein's memory finally started, if not jogging, then at least a brisk walk. Strange pretty girl, long auburn hair, a rapier beneath her cloak, and her employer, a smarmy smooth talker.
Klein grabbed Fumio by the shoulder and yanked his beard off. "I knew it."
"Hey! You know how expensive fake beards are?!" the fishmonger turned merchant shouted.
Klein narrowed his eyes. "You. "
Kirito shot him a boyish grin. "Long time no see, Klein-san. "
"I told ya', shoulda just used the glamour," said Kanna. "But noooo, too expensive to recharge it!"
The samurai turned back and walked to the boat. "Hey! Where are ya going?!" shouted Kirito.
"Not in the mood for your schemes, Kirito," he snarled. Maybe if he rowed fast enough he'd get to his usual watering hole before lunch. Sure Gamal would tan his hide but at least it would be better whatever the hell Kirito was cooking up.
"Now hold on there, Klein-san. How about you at least hear my offer!"
"How about I don't."
Something whistled past his ear and Klein stopped, feet in the water. A bolt sprouted at the bow of the boat. He turned to see a crossbow-woman sitting on a nearby rock, another bolt already loaded.
"Listen to the merchant, ronin. Or else."
"Oh, you two haven't met. Klein-san, this is Sinon! She's the company's head of hunting!" said Kirito, as if introducing her was good enough to make him forget how she almost shot him.
"Nice to meet you," he said diplomatically.
"Likewise."
"And what about you, blondie? Is your real name Kanna?"
Kanna shrugged. "Yeah, but you can call me Argo."
"Any relation to the Rat?"
"Nope. Just a common name, I think."
Klein wasn't so convinced, what with her painted whiskers but did not pursue. "Fine, but make it quick. "
Unsurprisingly, he did not.
Kirito regaled the tale for him on the beach:
"Once, there was the notorious pirates fleet known as the Darhaka. They were fearsome pirates, ruled by perhaps the greatest pirate king Aincrad had ever seen. A native of the Kingdom of Nadyah whose village had been slaughtered and he enslaved, he rose up the ranks and slew his captain, taking over his ship. He amassed a fleet and recruited scum from every corner of Aincrad.
"A hundred fleets were sent against him, from the navies of kings and sultans and privateers. Even pirate lords in prison were sent against him. All failed. Assassins were sent after him, all met grisly deaths save for one that became his lover. Cities ruined themselves by paying the Darhaka tribute, something that enraged the lords.
"As he set his sights on Qar Hadast, the city summoned mages to stop him, the brightest minds of Medina an-Nur and even the students of the old sorcerer-kings. He was cursed to stone by the Council's mages and his fleet sunk to the bottom of the sea."
" Yeah, yeah, what does that have to do with the Forty Thieves?" asked Klein.
"I'm getting there!
"The Darhaka rose from the depths a while ago. How long, no one knows. probably raised by another doomsday cult or the like. But that's a problem for the city, not our business. The business of the Kirito Corporation is hunting down the Forty Thieves and finding out where they took our stuff."
Klein rubbed his chin. "Yeah, doomsday cults. Fuurinkazan has dealt with a few of them before. You ever tangled with em'?"
Kirito smiled. So did the girls. "Something like that."
Argo spoke up, "My sources say something different. That someone, probably a noble or wizard or whatever, must have hired a cult to resurrect them from the depths. Normal necromancy is hard enough but this is far more advanced. Cursing magic is a whole other class of magic. Only disreputable wizards of high skill could do such a thing."
"And the Forty Thieves are likely helping this, let's call them Suspect Number 1, what with this whole pirate business," said Klein.
Kirito slapped him on the shoulder. "That's why we hired you, Klein. Always the smart one."
Klein frowned. "I still don't get it, what the hell are you doing dragging me out in the middle of the sea on some haunted island?"
At this, Asuna produced something from beneath her cloak. A poster of some kind:
DUELS FOR THE PIRATE CAPTAIN TIMO THE TOOTHLESS
COME TO THE ISLE OF THE GILDED LADY FOR THE BLOODBATH
«15,000 COL REWARD»
COME IF YE BE DARING OR DESPERATE
It did not surprise Klein whatsoever that there was a pirate cove hidden so close to Qar Hadast.
Hidden in the depths of the jungle, not even a dirt path to lead them, was a large palisaded compound complete with watch towers and sharp eyed archers. In the absence of GPS and accurate mapping tools, criminals, bandits, pirates, and other ne-er'-do-wells could hide very close to civilisation and prey on innocents without being noticed.
Klein would know, he and the FuurinKazan had burned down many a bandit outpost in their illustrious career. You'd be surprised how close they hid; in the basements of taverns and inns, in the absurdly spacious sewers of cities or pretending to be a normal village, as long as you don't look hard enough.
But he was not here to do any of that, he was here to -
"A tournament, huh?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Couldn't Asuna-san or muscles over there do that? She's your bodyguard, ain't she?"
Kirito shrugged. "Yes, she still is. But now she's a board member and has other duties aside from bodyguarding. Also, let's say me and the girls have become a little tired of tournaments as of late."
"I still think you should have let me instead of Klein here. I don't want anyone to get hurt on my behalf," said Asuna.
"You didn't say anything when me and my buddies were used as bait for that Blackguard mini-boss."
"Ah, but I did save you that one time."
"Touche."
"Well, the real reason is Asuna and the Kirito Corp are unknowns. You've made a name for yourself in the Maul's Pit. One of my pirate contacts - don't look at me like that, it's called networking - bet on you before and that's why we're not feathered by arrows as of yet," said Kirito.
Klein did not see any archers save for the ones in the watchtowers but he was enough of a veteran that he could sense them. He kept the katana in his scabbard loose. "Let's just hope no one remembers me from all those times I burned down all other bandit camps."
The great log gate opened and Klein and the Kirito Corporation were immediately assaulted by the smell of alcohol, sweat, blood, and other substances best not mentioned. Scantily dressed dancers served drinks to rough men, a couple women were cutting at each other with knives as they clenched a piece of rope between their teeth and questionable merchants hawking their wares. Klein had been many in dens of scum and villainy, but this was nearing the top of his list.
The girls made a ring around Kirito automatically, the merchant barely noticing it, as he looked about. A real squad they were, which made Klein long for his old guild even more.
"Ah, that must be where our pirate lord resides. Let's introduce ourselves," said Kirito, as he pointed to the only stone building in the encampment.
The pirate lord took his title most seriously. He laid lazily about his throne, a kind of chair that Klein recognised was used by former satraps, looted no doubt. The chamber which his 'court' currently resided was that of an ancient temple, dedicated to some long dead forgotten gods. It was a wide hall that was about half the size of the Pit with stone benches lining the walls.
The middle of said chamber had its stone tiles ripped off and filled with sand. Within the arena, two fighters faced each other: a shirtless tattooed Kozaki with a long handlebar mustache, armed with the saber of his people; and a swarthy short Nadyah pendekar dressed in a simple tunic and sarong, a keris clenched tightly in his fist. Common sense dictated that the longer reaching weapon would defeat the shorter one, but as someone who had that damnable dagger driven between his ribs, Klein would put money on the keris-wielder
As for the pirate lord himself, he was flanked by his officers: a muscled mountain of a man and a scarred woman with a most fearsome resting bitch face,. Yet none of the pirates seemed to have that stoneskin he had heard so much about and wondered if it was just a rumour.
The pirate lord looked at the duel with something akin to boredom before opening his mouth, revealing a full set of golden teeth, and proclaimed, "Alright, I'm bored. Someone needs to die now or both of you are keelhauled on my Lady."
The kozaki and the pendekar looked up to the pirate, then to each other, before going for the death strike: the saber splitting the Nadyah man from shoulder to hip just as the keris went deep into the Kozaki's throat. They let go of their weapons, clutching their wounds, before falling over in the sand.
Asuna looked furious, Sinon's blue eyes became colder, and Argo made a face of disgust.
The man known as Timo the Toothless clapped enthusiastically, followed by the other members of the audience, many of whom Klein realised weren't pirates at all. Some of them looked to be prominent citizens of Qar Hadast with their way of dress, though most of them seemed to be not wearing their citizen's rings.
"Twig, do me a favour and clean up, would you?" said the golden-toothed pirate.
The giant man next to Timo dropped into the pit and picked up the corpses as they were but sacks of rice and left for the exit, two trails of blood following him. Argo eyed him.
"Argo, no," said Kirito.
"I wanna fight him."
"He weighs ten times more than you and he's tall as a tree!"
She folded her beefy arms across her chest. "I could take him."
"No, and that's the end of it!" he said, more akin to someone scolding their dog than someone asking their party member. Not unlike how his buddies always told him how stupid his plans were.
She mopped cutely.
The scary looking woman waved them over and the five of them stepped forward, Kirito leading the way. Klein's boot dug in the wet bloody sand.
The Captain of the Gilded Lady sipped his goblet of wine before finally noticing their presence. "Who the hell are you?"
"Hail, Timo the Toothless! I, Fumio the Fishmonger, of Fumio Fisheries, have brought you a great ronin for the upcoming competition!"
Timo's golden teeth sparkled in the afternoon sun. "Competition? What competition?"
The scarred woman leaned over and whispered something into his ear. "Aaah, right. That one. Well, you're a day early. The Bloodbath is tommorow morning."
"Hmmm, don't like the sound of that," whispered Klein.
"Quiet Carla mill set you up. You'll get your own tent. Train, drink, make merry, because today may be your last."
"I still don't know how me doing this little duel is gonna get you closer to your money."
"Patience, grasshopper. All will be explained soon."
"You know, I really doubt it."
"Have faith, Klein-san. Oh, and watch out"
The samurai saw the attack coming, but just because you saw it coming doesn't mean you had the skill to do anything about it.
Klein pulled his head back just to not lose an eye; unfortunately it did leave a nasty gash on his forehead. Both fighters retreated to their side of the ring.
In the heat of battle, taking off your eyes to check your HP could mean life and death. No pain was a good thing most of the time, but that did mean that players had to rely on other things to notify them of their lowered HP. In this case, it was the warmness of his own blood.
Asuna, who had so far played the part of consummate professional, finally showed something akin to emotion. "Ah, no! Sorry, I didn't mean that!"
"Nah, it's cool. Shit happens." He popped open the cap of his sword hilt and thumbed some healing paste on the cut.
They were given their own quarters in the backside of the complex. A row of what can only be described as stalls repuprposed to be something akin to barracks. As for Klein and Asuna, they were training in a clearing behind the arena.
Already, Klein could see his HP go up passively. "So uh, maybe we can take a break?"
"We've only been sparring for fifteen minutes, Klein-san," said Asuna, flicking the blood off with practiced ease. His blood, mind.
"Look, do we really need to do this?" He turned to Kirito. "I was one of the best fighters in the Pit. I think I'm going to handle this fine."
Argo popped up next to Kirito, a wax tablet in hand. "Looking at your scores of all your fights for the past two months in the Pit, overall, you have a win-to-lose ratio of 56%."
The samurai snatched the tablet from the girl's hand and squinted at it; her handwriting impeccable, he could never get it right when he used wax tablets. "Ahah, but it is overall more wins than losts!"
Kirito shrugged. "Well, if you don't wanna get paid …"
Klein made a face and readied his sword again. "Alright, alright! No need to put a merc down like that."
"Good man."
And sparred they did, from noon till evening. At some point, Kirito and Argo had left the two to their own devices, and the sharpshooter Sinon wasn't even present during the training. Asuna was a merciless drillmaster, and she had them spar with other weapons, from sabers to axes to spears. Klein didn't wish to admit it, but the training felt harder than the actual fights in the Pit.
Thankfully, she was also a good cook as she prepped dinner.
"You know, Asuna-san, if you ever wanna ditch that dork, the FuurinKazan could use a woman like you. I take it you know your way around training and teaching someone, huh?" said Klein.
She didn't take her eyes off the cod she was cooking but smiled nonetheless. "Oh, something like that. And I don't think I'd be leaving that dork anytime soon."
"He may be a dork, but he's my dork," said the voice next to Klein, making him almost spill his drink. Sinon had appeared out of nowhere and sat next to him.
"Geez, you almost scared me to death!" Note to self, invest more into PER. "Wait, whaddaya mean your dork?"
At that, the two girls shared a look and giggled.
"Don't worry about it, Klein-san. Just enjoy your dinner," said Sinon.
Ugh. This is why he preferred NPC women.
Halfway through the meal, Kirito and Argo appeared. They looked not much different save for the fact that Kirito was hefting around a large crate that he struggled to even carry. He placed it in the corner of their tent and covered it with a cloth. "Don't ask," he said.
Argo however looked very pleased with herself. "I sussed out the person we're looking for. Turns out he left the island a couple days ago. But, he left a ledger with the captain in his quarters. Security's too tight for me to sneak in, but as long as you win, you'll be invited into the captain's quarters for your prize. Kirito will be with you in the arena, me and the other girls will do our thing," she said.
"And what will you girls be doing?" asked Klein.
"You know … stuff," said Argo.
"Stuff," said Sinon.
"Indeed. Stuff," Asuna repeated.
Well, Klein knew when people wanted to keep their mouths shut and said nothing.
The merchant clasped his hands. "Be sure to have a good night's sleep, Klein-san. Tomorrow, we commence Operation Get Our Money Back."
The competition began just after sunrise.
After an early breakfast, the fighters gathered in the arena. It wasn't a lot, Klein realised. Even the massive brawls in the Pit could have numbered thirty-some fighters. But there were only a dozen fighters, including himself. Which meant the final round was gonna be a three-for-all …
Timo was talking about gold and glory and all that boring public speech as the small crowd grew restless for the fight.
"A lot less than I expected," said Kirito, rubbing his chin. "At least the crowds are packed."
Indeed, for as small as the building was, it was only small comparatively. It was still enough to house at least a couple hundred attendees, many of whom were faces that clearly weren't pirates. Newcomers in fine clothes mostly, dandies with pretty girls at their elbows, servants carrying cash with them. There was probably more cash in those purses in them than all the money Klein had earned in the Pit.
"So I have a question, Kirito."
"No, you can't have the peanuts."
"You know what, I wasn't gonna even ask about the damn peanuts, but sure. What the hell are you doing with the peanuts?" It 100% came from the crate, Klein figured out.
The merchant had traded his silks for, of all things, a box filled with heated peanuts and a bright red cap, walking about the benches and hawking. He had even put on another fake beard, though this one was a bit more well done and natural looking.
"Making money, duh."
"You're a smart guy, you know there are better ways to make money."
Kirito tsk-tsk'd. "Klein-san, there's nothing wrong with a little side hustle from time to time."
"Whatever you say. Anyway, remind me again, what do I do when I win?"
"You gracefully accept your prize, you go into his office, and you snatch the ledger. Stealthily, if you can, of course."
"And what if I die in this attempt?"
He smiled that obnoxious smile. "The Kirito Corporation doesn't include funerary rituals for its contractors, I'm afraid. Employees only."
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
The first round was called, and it was Klein against a bravo in ludicrous clothes. A vomit of rainbow of satins, silks, cotton and linen, with little to no rhyme or reason to it. He always hated how these dandies dressed. And this is coming from a guy who wears a bandana too.
Klein bowed nonetheless. "May the best man win."
The other man merely smiled, the rapier sang as he pulled it out of his scabbard. "I will use your ugly bandana as toilet paper when I'm done with y-"
His opponent didn't finish his insult when he found himself face first into the ground, eating sand. The whole arena went silent as the samurai stood over the bravo, his fist clenched so tightly it became white.
Even Timo looked perplexed. "Uhhh, shit. I mean … the round goes to the ronin!"
The crowd cheered as Klein stomped back to his side and sat on his stool. Kirito was there, counting his money. "And here I thought Asuna was fast."
"Nobody makes fun of my bandana."
"Well you better have some more of that anger because there are still a-ways to go."
Unfortunately for Klein, that was true. He wasn't gonna sucker punch any other opponent this time, not that he could muster the will to do so; he punched so hard it decreased the HP of his hand.
His second opponent was a more traditional one: a Granum knight that had fallen too much in debt, trying to impress his lady wife with bouts of chivalric manliness. The man was hairy as a bear but thankfully not as powerful as one, but Klein damn near broke his sword trying to stab into the gaps of his plate armour. His wife didn't even look at him, instead flirting with a dwarven merchant.
"Hey dude, your wife's talking to another guy."
The fool took the bait. "Wha-"
At that, Klein thrusted the hilt of his katana into his throat. As he gasped for air, Klein wrenched the longsword out of his hand before driving his shoulder into his stomach.
Knee in his stomach, Klein pulled out his tanto, popped open the visor and dangled above his opponent's eyes. "Yield."
The knight surrendered.
And so the tournament went on, with only a quick lunch break during half-time for the winners and losers (at least the ones that didn't die). It was a feast of smoked fish, crab and other sea life delights. Yet no amount of good sushi could shake off the feeling Kirito wasn't telling him something.
Speaking of which, the merchant had disappeared just after his first fight with the bravo. He could not spot neither hide nor hair of him, nor any of the girls. Whatever he was planning, he better have a backup plan for it.
The fight resumed after lunch. Kirito was there, still selling his peanuts, at most giving him a wink and a thumbs up.
A couple more fights later, finally, there were only three contestants left:
Klein stood in his battered armour alongside the others: a mad looking kozaki in furs with twin axes and a Nadyah lady with a rattan shield and parang.
Timo stood before his throne and addressed them all, "This is the end, my lords and ladies. The end of our humble tournament. But to make it a memorable one, I have decided to change the rules. So far, we have made it so duels to the death optional. No longer. It is now mandatory. If you choose mercy, you'll be feathered with arrows."
Klein didn't like the sound of that. "You can't just change the rules mid-tournament!" he shouted.
Timo's smile showed off his golden teeth. "I am altering the rules. Pray I do not alter it any further! Now, begin!"
Figures. You can never trust yakuza, sea, street or otherwise.
Immediately, the fighters were on edge, as they circled each other with their weapons drawn. The kozaki seemed to be enjoying himself the most as he stared down his opponents. The pendekar herself looked similarly excited. The two NPCs shared a look and immediately set themselves onto the player.
"Hey, this shit ain't fair!"
But the crowd didn't care as axe and machete fell upon him.
Klein would later tell the tale of this fight in bars with friends until he was old and grey. The fight would go on differently, everytime he told the tale. But in truth, he could barely remember any of it because the man was fighting for his life.
They were powerful fighters, the axes were like punches from a professional boxer, and the parang cut at him from behind the shield. He legitimately thought he would die in the arena.
But through dumb luck, skill, or mercy from above, Klein survived. He was many things: a drunkard, a bad friend and a bad leader, but above all, he was a survivor.
The Kozaki was last to die as Klein split his belly open. The pendekar was still clutching the hole in her neck. It was a fight to behold, Kirito would later tell him. It was just a shame that Klein remembered very little of it.
Klein almost jumped out of his skin as he felt a strong hand grab his wrist, only to find the pirate lord himself. He raised his fist into the air. "The winner - the ronin!"
The crowd cheered and clapped and went mad. But Klein didn't care. He just wanted it to be over.
"Aaand, that's 15,000 Col. Not a bad payout for a day's work, isn't it?" said the pirate lord.
Klein had found himself in the captain's quarters. It was one would expect when one imagined 'pirate captain's quarters.'
In ages past, the chamber may have held an important relic or been the office of a religious official. Now, it was home to Timo's own hoard of treasure.
The pirate lord reclined on a luxurious white sofa upon the dais. Priceless rugs decorated the walls, a pittance compared to the gold statues, coin, and artefacts scattered about the chamber. Two topless women served him, one by using an overgrown leaf for a fan and the other feeding him grapes. There were at least a dozen guards in the room, not including Timo and his officers. He was also very much disarmed.
"Be sure to count it," Timo continued. "Carla's good at math, but she makes mistakes too."
Quiet Carla merely glared at her captain and said nothing as she presented him the chest of gold.
For the first time in ages, Klein found himself uncaring for the money. "I think I'll just trust Carla at her word."
Timo laughed. "Remind me to run more tournaments, I've made twenty times the amount of the cash prize. Why raid at all, I think, at times."
"Because we enjoy it, boss," said Twig the mountain.
"That we do, Twig. That we do. Well, is there something else this humble lord can do for you, ronin?"
Klein remembered what he was here for. He scanned the room for the ledger spoke of, but couldn't exactly - no, there it was! Next to the statue of a golden monkey. But how could he slide that under his armour and leave?
"Instead of the chest of gold, captain, mayhaps I could trade it for something of equal value?" he suggested.
Timo tugged at his mustache and nodded. "Yes, coins themselves tend to be quite heavy, I agree. Well, choose what you want, but be quick about it."
Klein pretended to window shop about the chamber, not immediately heading for the ledger. He checked the rugs, weighed rubies in his hands, ogled at jewel encrusted weapons and so on. It didn't take long for the pirates in the chamber to be bored of him and lose interest.
"Ah, this looks like a fascinating monkey!" he exclaimed delightfully. He shielded the monkey and the ledger both with his body, as he examined it. "Yes, I like this quite a lot!"
"Truly? I think it's quite ugly. But I suppose money cannot buy taste," said Timo, as he was offered a goblet of wine.
"What kind of wine is it?" he asked.
"Aah, I see you too are an appreciator. Well, you see …"
As the captain went on about the wine, Klein quickly slid the ledger under his armour. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
"Ah, I think I'll just take the monkey here, captain," said Klein, lifting the statue and finding it far heavier than expected. "Now, excuse me, I'll be on my way."
Timo frowned, as if saddened that no one would appreciate his lesson on good wine. "Ah, very well. If you ever find yourself in need of more coin, well, you know how to find me!"
As Klein reached the exit and was handed back his katana, a feminine spoke out: "Why did you take the ledger, gladiator?"
The activity in the chamber grounded to a halt as Quiet Carla unsheathed her cutlass. "Hand it back, now."
Timo stood from his couch, furious. "Why you little fucking thie -"
Klein spun in place, and with technique that would make an Olympic shot put champion proud, threw the offending ugly monkey statue right into Carla.
It missed completely and shattered in half.
The pirates looked at him, bemused.
Before Klein could make an excuse for his horrendous accuracy, a boulder crashed into the chamber, splitting it in half.
As the smoke and debris cleared, he could hear shouting and yelling, alarms were raised around the island.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he sprinted down the hall leaving the pirates befuddled.
As he rounded the corner, he felt his wrist being pulled, only to be looking at the familiar whiskered face of Argo. "Argo! I'm so glad to see you -"
"Run now, talk later."
So run they did, and Klein wished he had done a bit more cardio.
The island was in chaos.
The two found themselves in the arena where, of all things, red-cloaked Roman Legionaries were doing battle with the pirates. The rumours Klein heard of came true, as the Darhaka had turned their skin into stone. Blades, bolts and javelins bounced off their hard skin as they did battle with little in the way of armour. Only those players who were armed with blunt weapons fared better.
"You're all under arrest! In the name of Qar Hadast!" yelled a Centurion, as he cracked the stone skull of a pirate with his polemace. Klein didn't think they were going to take them alive.
"What the - are those the Sons of Mars?! What are they doing here?!"
"I said talk later, didn't I, let's go go go!"
They ran past the fighting, past the audience of the arena, whom, for some reason, were all sleeping. In their hands and upon the floor were Kirito's peanuts. Kirito, you bastard.
As for why, he'll ask the merchant soon enough.
Argo led him to a side door behind the seats of the arena. He found himself outside in the courtyard again and it was even more chaotic. The great log doors were busted open with a great stone boulder. Someone had set fire to the tents that the pirates used as a barrack as pirate and Legionaries fought between the licking flames. The merchants had already run into the jungle though some stubbornly refused as they bunkered down at their makeshift shops.
"Where's Kirito and the rest?!"
"They're at the boat! Now come on!"
The two of them ran into the brush as arrows suddenly whizzed past them. "What are they shooting us for! They didn't know I stole their crap!"
"You know how pirates are, can't reason with em'!"
Not for the first time that Klein wished for a cold drink in hand right about now. At least he was burning fat faster than usual.
More than once did the pirates seem to almost spawn out of nowhere, more than once did the stone skinned bastards appeared out of nowhere to strike at him with a cutlass, necessitating Klein beating them back with the hilt of his sword or stabbing into the cracks of their stoneskin. Argo's fists seemed to fare better, but even they started to be bloodied.
They spawned in the bush, behind a rock, and even in the trees. "The trees are speaking piratese!" Argo shouted.
They didn't head to the beach where they had beached their boat, instead a completely different direction. As they reached a clearing, Klein could spot Sinon standing on a rock, crossbow in hand, aiming straight at him. His heart leapt into his throat.
The steel bow ka-chunked! as the bolt cracked against the stoneskin of a Darhaka pirate, striking at his head. Had it been flesh, it would have killed him, but it only sent him sprawling back into the green.
He could see Kirito in the boat, waving him over, alongside a few others. "Come on, we gotta go!" he shouted.
He was only twenty feet from the boat before Klein found himself stepping on air, then finding himself looking up into the sky, before finally returning to earth with a crack. Only his backplate saved himself from a broken neck or spine.
He got back up to see the massive muscled pirate frowning, his blue eyes a stark difference from the greyness of his skin.
"You! You robbed us! Ransacked the captain's quarters for secrets!" Twig accused.
Oh boy. "Well, actually, my employer asked me to do that, not me - HRK!"
The giant was heavy enough normally, but whatever curse/spell/enchantment/whatever turned his skin into stone must have tripled his weight as he planted one heavy foot on Klein's chest. He could even feel the steel bands of his o-yoroi sinking into his flesh. To the side, Argo was boxing a couple pirates and doing little with her fists.
"I'll have you and your little crew keelhauled on the Lady!"
Klein had no idea what keelhauling was but he was in no mood to find out. His hand reached for his katana which lay out of reach. He watched his HP bar slowly deplete alongside his Oxygen bar, something he had only seen a grand total of thrice. A bolt bounced off Twig's chest to no avail.
As Klein was slipping into the darkness for the second time in the week, he felt the weight off him. He gasped ten lungfuls of air.
Twig staggered to the side as bits of stone broke from his shoulder. A fighter in red brigandine hefted their poleaxe at him, daring to attack.
"Come on, pirate scum!" Asuna spat, the challenge clear despite her thick bascinet.
Twig did so, rock fists swinging. Bastard would have given Durgar Brickfist a run for his money.
Two more girls came to their aid, both mailed, one with a longsword and the other with mace and shield, doing battle with incoming pirates. Klein slowly picked himself backed up, sluggish from all the effort. Even Kirito had picked up Klein's bow and loose arrows.
More pirates came to, far more than Klein had expected as they waged a fighting retreat. Slowly but surely, the company extracted themselves from the beach and into the sea. The bloodied Twig cursed them, waving massive fists in anger.
The island grew smaller the more they rowed. Smoke rose into the sky as small ships sailed away as large battle ships unloaded marines into the island, bearing the banner of the Sons of Mars. The setting sun casted an orange glow onto the Dark Sea.
It was then, finally, did Klein breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God."
"Excellent work, gang," said Kirito, still rowing. "Another exciting adventure in the Kirito Corporation!"
"Why don't I ever get to get into the fighting?" said one of the other girls, purple-haired and red-eyed. "You said that I can go fight pirates!"
"You did, ya dolt!" said the pink-haired one.
"I crave more violence," she said. "Kirito-senpai, let me fight more pirates."
"Uhhh, ask Asuna about that, Yuuki-chan. Hey Klein, you good?"
"I'm good," said Klein, as he slumped onto his seat. "Hey, you still have some of them peanuts?"
"I do, it's under your seat. But be careful, it's drugged-"
Klein ignored the merchant as he scooped a handful of peanuts into his mouth, swallowed them whole, and found himself in dreamland.
"Aaand here's your money."
Klein weighed the pouch in hand, giving it a good squeeze and hearing that satisfying clinking. "You know, that prize money was a whole lot more than this."
Kirito shrugged. "Well, if you ask the Legatus Scipio nicely, I'm sure she'll let you pilfer some from the ruin."
"Naaah. I don't think I'd enjoy being pila'd."
It had been but a few days since news spread like wildfire that a few select notable citizens of the city were in league with the dastardly Darhaka pirates. Most of whom were apprehended without much resistance for they had realised the error of their ways though rumours on the streets say that they were found asleep when the hired mercs of the Suffetes apprehended them. How and why, no one truly knew.
The Sons of Mars, in secret, had commissioned the shipbuilders of Qar Hadast to create them biremes, yachts and cogs, alongside the sailors to man them. Being the guild that primarily headed the assault on the Thunderbird and many of the plains beasts, they had paraded the taxidermied carcass of the large bird and sold it to the city at a great price - the price being said ships.
Now, other guilds like the ALF and the Shouidan Gun were similarly rushing to commission ships, lest they incur the perhaps heftier cost of renting them out from the city itself. Newer guilds like Black Arrow and Ashigaru Corp were also making names for themselves by tackling one of the more dangerous dungeons around the lower floors.
Klein admittedly wasn't too caught up in the politics of Clearers, he was completely fine and happy being a small fish in a big pond. He admitted, a good chunk of what Kirito had told him went in one ear and out of the other, but he appreciated being in the know. Prominent Qar Hadast citizens that were caught thanks to Kirito's
Kirito sipped his tea. "Glad to see you're not with the bottle again. Not a good look on you."
Klein added a spoonful of sugar to his. "Me and the bottle aren't on speaking terms anymore. Maybe, once or twice at a party." He smiled. "My guildmates reached back to me again."
"Oh? The one that you gave a long PTO for?" he said, smirking.
Klein looked to the streets and scratched, not meeting Kirito's eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Me and them are gonna meet up somewhere up the next town, dungeon diving stuff, the usual. But enough about that, how did that ledger thing went?"
They were enjoying themselves at the teahouse Klein had drank at ages ago. The streets were busy as always, and two brawls broke out while they were waiting for their drinks. Just another day at Qar Hadast.
"Going fine, think we'll make our next move soon enough. The girls are packing up stuff on a rented ship, we'll be out in the islands sometime soon," the merchant left it at that.
"I, uh, also appreciate you getting Gamal to forgive my debts. You didn't have to do that," he said, scratching the back of his head.
The last time Klein saw him, the dwarf, his face was swollen and he had an arm in a cast. At any time, Klein could probably have done the job himself, but he'd rather not take on an entire gang worth of thugs to do so; fighting pirates was hard work enough.
"I've no idea what you're talking about, Klein-san," he said, smirking. "The man just had a change of heart, I'm sure."
"Yeah, sure he did."
At that, Asuna came to, her brigandine clean and shiny. "Ship's ready, everyone's waiting for you at the docks."
"Sure thing, I'll be there in a sec."
Klein paid for the bill and the two shook hands outside the tea shop. "Well, I'll see you later. Try not to get too in over your head."
"Me? Please Klein-san, I will do no such thing."
As Klein disappeared into the crowd, Kirito simply looked on, smiling at a job well done.
He felt something wet and soft touching his cheeks. "Kissing? In public? What will the papers say, Asuna-chan."
"You didn't have to do all that for Klein."
"He's a good contractor that I'm fond of being in good graces with," he said professionally.
The knight merely smiled. "Well, despite the ... misadventures a few days ago, I'm just glad to know ..."
"Know what?" he asked as they made their way down to the docks.
Kirito spotted their new ship, the captain giving the crew the rundown. On the deck, they could spy the rest of the company already on board:
Lisbeth was attaching a ballista to the the side of the ship; Sinon was high up in the crow's nest, staring at the open sea; Argo was admiring her new pair of golden knuckle dusters and Yuuki was already emptying her breakfast over the railing despite the fact they weren't even moving yet.
She leaned over, her shoulder touching his. "To know that I fell in love with a good man."
It had been a while since the merchant found himself at a lack for words. Asuna laughed.
I told a buddy of mine I'm gonna have more shipping in this fic but this probably wasn't what they were expecting.
"But Agent, aren't you doing the whole pirates thing back in Retold?"
AND I'M DOING IT HERE TOO. It's called recycling, authors do that all the time.
As is, there is no overarching plot. Just a series of 'episodic' stuff for the Corporation to have fun with. If you've got any ideas for shennanigans and the like, please leave a 5 star rating and review for this fic.