Chapter 139 - In a Place Far Away
—...Ughh, ahhhhhh...
It was just past eleven in the morning, real-world time. The Sword Saint's sweet, domestic pronouncement—"I must go prepare lunch now"—led to a temporary disbandment and logout, and I returned to my room.
It was a typical one-room apartment for a student who'd moved to the city, just big enough to stand, sit, and sleep.
It was small but relatively clean, which I liked, but the [Arcadia] rig took up more than a third of the cramped space, making it feel seriously oppressive.
Not that it took me more than three days to get used to it.
On top of the rig that so brazenly occupied the space, the room's tenant lay motionless, letting out a groan like a dying old man.
I must have gone numb towards the end, as I hadn't even been conscious of the fatigue, but... seriously? It had only been a little over two hours since my fourth-round match with Irori.
It was three hours in virtual-world time, but so what? Either way, that's not a density of events that should happen in just two or three hours.
"Maybe I should just sleep like a log..."
That was definitely an option.
Ui-san had even told me, "Please rest if you're tired," and I didn't have any particular plans for the rest of the day anyway.
As for her offer to train me, we'd already arranged to coordinate our schedules for the day after tomorrow or later. Sora had also told me to rest my body if I could...
After three years of this, I'm confident in my physical stamina, but the phantom fatigue unique to the virtual world is another matter entirely.
Like during the [Angalta, God-Wedge Sword-King] fight, or the infinite attack rush while clearing the [Spiral Crimson Tower]. Once I get a really nasty case of it over there, it lingers even after I log out here.
The first time it happened, I panicked and frantically grabbed my phone, thinking, What is this, this is bad...
But now, three years after the service started, phantom fatigue has become common knowledge to the general public, and its effects on reality are considered nothing to worry about.
There was some complicated explanation about brain illusions and whatnot, but the weariness was too much, and I gave up reading after two and a half lines. I haven't touched the subject since.
With a soft knock, the translucent, mysterious material of the [Arcadia]'s 'lid' rose without a sound. I rolled sideways, taking a dive from the seventy- or eighty-centimeter height onto the futon I had laid out in advance.
It was a brilliant move on my part, having anticipated that fighting a ranker would naturally lead to this.
I have a thing or two to say about my futon-making skills, cultivated during my part-time job at an inn. As expected of me, it's a fine piece of work, practically screaming, "Come, sleep."
Not that I have much to say, really. It was a short-term gig, so I only worked there for about a week.
However, I didn't dive onto the futon just to crash. My target was the smartphone I had set up by the pillow.
My fingers, moving sluggishly as if dragged down by my dead-slow thoughts, slowly typed out the words in the search box I'd summoned.
'A'
'r'
'c'
'a'
'd'
'i'
'a'
One space.
'A'
'c'
'r'
"—No, no, no, no way, I can't...!!"
SMACK! I slammed my phone back down by the pillow and retreated under the covers as if raising a protective barrier.
Ego-searching...!! So this is that thing they call ego-searching...!!!
I tried to calm my heart, which had instantly started pounding like crazy, and wiped away the cold sweat that had broken out. No, it's impossible, this is too terrifying...!!
Back there, Goldow had tried to keep a lid on things, but how much effect could even the charismatic third-ranked player have on a countless number of gamers?
And besides that, even if only the Istia players who were present knew what happened in the selection match, the fact that I—the player named [Haru]—had joined the Eastern ranks was announced to all players via a system-wide announcement.
It would be stranger if there wasn't an uproar over this. Without a doubt, the world has been in an uproar for the past few hours.
Probably on par with, or even greater than, the commotion over the [Spiral Crimson Tower] clear two weeks ago.
Which means that at this very moment, among a mind-bogglingly vast number of people, the topic of discussion is none other than 'me'—
"Time to sleep."
And forget.
Right now, I don't think I can handle this immense pressure—
Oh, right, my alarm.
I probably won't sleep a full day starting from the afternoon, but oversleeping is out of the question.
My cute partner is raring to go, you see. Our meeting tomorrow is first thing in the morning.
◇◆◇◆◇
"—..."
The world shifts—a sensation she has grown quite used to.
She gently pats the gentlemanly machine that detects her movements and helps her sit up, as she always does.
The woman—not a girl—steps down from the large, mechanical bed. Unfazed by the drastic change in her physical senses, she walks with graceful steps straight out of the room.
She opens a fusuma, leaves the room that is far too large for a single person... and walks unhesitatingly down another long, long hallway.
Eventually, she senses a presence from one of the rooms—her destination was, indeed, that kitchen.
"—Grandfather."
As the woman calls out while peeking in, the figure who had been shuffling about in front of a state-of-the-art system kitchen—one that seemed out of place in the old, Japanese-style building—turns around in surprise and opens his mouth.
"—Ah, Yui. Is it that time already?"
The old man in a kendo uniform—the one she called Grandfather—smiles evasively, like a child caught in the middle of some mischief.
"Honestly, don't pretend you didn't notice... You were hungry, so you came to find a snack, didn't you? I'll prepare lunch right away, so please wait a moment."
As the woman—Yui—gently chided him, a smile touched her lips, her beautiful black hair swaying. He smiled back sheepishly, showing a charm unbefitting his age.
"Well, I'm caught... How embarrassing, to be seen in such a state—"
Caught in his childish mischief by his granddaughter, he scratches his head as if to say he's helpless. Then he suddenly stops and looks closely at Yui's face.
"Oh...? Did something good happen?"
Her expression was as calm as always. But sensing 'something' just beneath the surface, he asks gently, guessing that she is probably in a good mood.
Yui, for her part, probably hadn't been aware of it herself.
Noticing his gaze, she touches her own cheek—then immediately nods honestly.
"Someone asked me to train them."
For a moment, his expression hardens ever so slightly at her words—but seeing her cheerful demeanor, the old man's face quickly softens into a smile.
"Oh? And what kind of person might that be?"
"What kind... let's see."
She ponders the question for a moment, and then...
"He was an honest, energetic, and endearing boy."
And with those words, Yui—the woman who holds the name [Sword Saint]—smiled, her face the same as her virtual one save for the color of her hair and eyes.
As her grandfather watched over her with a pleased expression, she began to tell him about the unexpected encounter she had today.
The Sword Saint is beautiful, strong, and a grandpa's girl.
Also, she's smol.