My battle with the powerful lizardman lord in the seventy-fourth-floor labyrinth concluded, I traveled the route back, tracing distant memories in my head. At long last, the light of the exit came into sight, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I cast aside the stuffy memories and rushed out of the corridor, breathing the fresh, crisp air deeply. Before me was a dark forest path, the sides overgrown. Behind me loomed the labyrinth, its mammoth spire stretching upward in the evening light to the bottom of the floor above. Given that the objective of the game was to reach the top of the castle, the dungeons of this game took the form of massive towers rather than underground catacombs or caves. They still held fast to the basic tenets of a dungeon, though: more dangerous foes than you found elsewhere, winding corridors, and a terrible boss at the very end. The seventy-fourth-floor labyrinth was 80 percent mapped out at this point. Within a few days, we'd find the boss's lair, and a raiding party would be arranged. Even as a solo, I'd play a part in the battle. Grimacing at my equal measures of anticipation and anxiety, I walked out of the doorway. My current home is in Algade on the fiftieth floor, the de facto largest city in Aincrad. In terms of scale, the Town of Beginnings is bigger, but given that the Army controlled it entirely now, it was best to give that place a wide berth. As I passed through the field, darkening with the onset of evening, I came to a forest of gnarled, ancient oaks. A thirty-minute walk would bring me to the residential area of the seventy-fourth floor, from which I could use the teleport gate to reach Algade instantly. I could have used a teleportation item to return to Algade from any point in Aincrad, but they were pricey and best saved for emergencies. There was still time left before the light was fully gone, so I plunged into the forest, resisting the temptation to teleport and plop onto my bed immediately. Outside of a few load-bearing structures, the outer edge of each floor of Aincrad was essentially open to the sky. The sunlight tilting through the distant opening set the trees aflame with a reddish glow. Thick mist flowing through the branches glinted eerily as it reflected the dying light. The raucous daytime birdcalls grew sparse, and the rustling of the breeze through the branches seemed to echo louder than before. Despite knowing that I could handle the monsters in this area while half asleep, it was hard to repress an instinctual fear of this hour of darkening. It resembled the sensation of being lost on the way home at a young age, frozen with anxiety. I didn't dislike the feeling, however. I'd forgotten this kind of primal emotion back in the real world. And after all, wasn't a solitary march across the wilderness without a soul in sight one of the great pleasures of an RPG? A faint, unfamiliar cry broke me out of my nostalgic reverie. It was a single high note, brief and clear, like a leaf whistle. I stopped in my tracks, trying to discern the direction of the call. Unfamiliar sights and sounds in this world meant the advent of fortune—good or bad. As a solo player, I'd put lots of work into my Search skill. It was designed to help you protect against ambushes, and as it rose in level, it enabled you to spot foes and players hidden in stealth mode. Pretty soon, the form of a monster came into view in the shadows of a large tree, about ten yards away. It wasn't very big. I could see gray-green fur suited to blending in with leaves and elongated ears longer than the animal's body. By focusing my vision, I prompted the game to automatically target the monster for me, bringing up a yellow cursor and the target's name. When I saw the words that appeared, I held my breath. It was a Ragout Rabbit, an ultra-rare creature. It was certainly the first I'd ever seen. The fluffy little things lived in trees, weren't particularly strong, nor rewarding in terms of experience points. Their value came from something else. Silently, I slipped a narrow throwing pick out of my belt. My hand and shot into the shadows of the branches, leaving a momentary trail of light behind it. The instant I initiated the skill, the targeting cursor went from yellow to hostile red, bringing up the rabbit's HP bar below. As I watched the trail of the pick, I heard an even higher-pitched scream, and the HP bar immediately dropped to zero. When the sound effect of disintegrating polygons rang out, I clenched my fist in triumph. I called up my menu and switched to the inventory, my fingers fumbling. There it was, right at the top of the new items list: "Ragout Rabbit meat." An absolute gold mine, worth at least six figures on the open market. It was valuable enough to buy me the highest-class custom-made weapons with change to spare. The reason was simple: Out of all the limitless ingredients in the game, it had the very highest flavor rating. Eating was about the only pleasure to be found in the world of SAO . Most of the available food seemed to be in a rustic European style—simple breads and soups. The tiny minority of crafters who chose to utilize the cooking skill could create other dishes in order to expand our options, but given how few of those cooks there actually were, and the surprising difficulty of obtaining good cooking ingredients, nearly all the players in the game were perpetually starving for quality food. Count me among them. I didn't mind the soup and black bread at my favorite NPC restaurant, but it was hard to resist the craving to sink my teeth into a hot, juicy piece of meat. A soft moan left my lips as I stared at the name of the item. It was incredibly unlikely that I'd ever find another top-ranked food ingredient like this again. I desperately wanted to eat it for myself, but the finer the item, the higher the skill rank required to cook it. I'd have to ask a master chef to do it for me. I'd be lying if I claimed that I didn't know anyone who fit the bill, but tracking that person down would be a pain, and I'd been needing a new set of armor, so I made up my mind to sell the meat for col. Closing the status screen was a painful act of will. I engaged my Search skill to scan the surroundings. Chances that any thieving players would be hanging out in the deadly frontier looking to make a score were absurdly slim, but when you're sitting on an S-rank gold mine, you tend to err on the side of caution. I opened the pouch on my waist to rummage for a teleportation crystal to return straight to Algade, operating under the assumption that I could buy all the crystals I wanted with the money I'd make selling the meat. The crystal was elongated and eight-sided, sparkling deep blue. With the absence of any kind of magic spells in SAO , the few magical items to be found all took the form of these crystals. The blue ones were for teleporting, the pink ones for healing, the green for curing poison—it was all pretty self-explanatory. They worked instantaneously, but given the price, it made more sense to simply retreat from battle and use a cheap potion if you needed to regain HP. Telling myself that this was a worthy emergency, I gripped the blue fragment and shouted, "Teleport: Algade!" A beautiful chiming like the ringing of many bells sounded, and the little crystal crumbled in my hand. A blue light enveloped my body, the sights and sounds of the forest vanishing. The light pulsed brighter, then disappeared, and the transition was complete. The rustling of leaves had been replaced with clanging blacksmith mallets and the lively roar of many voices. I was at the teleport gate in the center of Algade. The enormous metal gate towered over the rest of the city square, at least sixteen feet tall. The interior space beneath the frame shimmered like a mirage, and people streamed through the gate in a steady flow, teleporting to and from other cities in Aincrad. Four wide avenues stretched out from the central square with countless tiny shops crammed into the margins. For those seeking solace after a hard day of adventure, there were carts selling food and pubs full of lively chatter. If there was one word to sum up the city of Algade, it was chaos . There were no singular large structures such as in the Town of Beginnings, but rather a vast space crisscrossed with cramped alleys, suspicious workshops selling unknown wares, and sketchy taverns that promised a way in but probably not out. This wasn't just hyperbole—players told horror stories of getting lost in the byzantine alleys of Algade for several days at a time. I'd set up residence in this city almost a year ago, and I still didn't know half the streets in it. Even the NPCs of Algade didn't seem to fit into the standard roles, and any human players who spent too much time here developed an eccentricity or two during their stay. But for all that, I liked the vibe. It was often the case that sipping oddly scented tea in my favorite back-back-back-alley establishment was the only moment of tranquility I had in a day. I couldn't deny that part of the attraction came from Algade's nostalgic resemblance to the notable electronics district I liked to visit back in the real world. I decided to take care of business before returning to my hideout and set off for a familiar item merchant. After several minutes of weaving through the crowds on the western boulevard, I reached the shop. It had all the hallmarks of a player-run establishment: a cramped interior that could fit no more than five people, a chaotic jumble of merchandise on display, and racks full of weapons, tools, and food. The proprietor was in the midst of a deal right out front. There are two main methods of selling items in the game. One is to sell to an NPC—in other words, to the system itself. There's no danger of being ripped off, but you're only going to get one fixed price for your goods, and the prices are automatically set to be lower than the market purchase value to prevent inflation. The other method is dealing directly with another player. It's possible to get a much better price for your wares this way, but first you have to actually find someone to buy them, then you have to deal with finicky buyers, people who come back wanting a refund, or plain old scam artists. This is where traders making a living in the secondhand market come in. Of course, that's not the only reason they exist. As with item crafters, merchants have to fill the majority of their skill slots with non-combat skills, but they still have to venture out into the wilderness. Merchants need items to sell and crafters need ingredients, which means farming monsters for goods is necessary. As you might imagine, battle is a lot tougher when you aren't playing a traditional warrior class. There is nothing glamorous or enjoyable about fighting as a merchant. This all means that their class identity is rooted in a pure and admirable desire to assist those adventurers who are working their damnedest on the front lines to beat the game. I held a deep and secret admiration for merchants and crafters. …But the shopkeeper I stared at now was about as far from the definition of self-sacrificing as anyone could be. "You got yourself a deal! Five hundred col for twenty Dusklizard hides!" Agil the pawnbroker swung his burly arm, whacking his victim, a weak-willed spearman, on the shoulder. He popped open the trading window and entered the gold amount on his side without waiting for an answer. The seller still appeared hesitant, but with a powerful glare from Agil's imposing face—not only was he a merchant, he was also an excellent ax warrior—the man quickly transferred his materials to the trade window and hit the accept button. "Thanks for your business! Come again!" Agil boomed a laugh as he slapped his mark's back one last time. Dusklizard hide was a valuable crafting ingredient in making armor. Five hundred col seemed to be a steal for that many of them, but I held my tongue and watched the spearman trudge away. I told myself that he'd just learned a valuable lesson: Never let your guard down around a secondhand buyer. "Another day making a living ripping off honest folks, Agil?" The bald head craned around to see who'd called to him, and Agil beamed. "Good to see you, Kirito. Stock it cheap; sell it cheap: That's my motto," he lied without a trace of irony. "Not sure about the latter part, but whatever. Got some more stuff to sell you." "You're a regular, Kirito. You know I won't do you wrong. Let's see…" He trailed off, leaning over to peer at my trade window. Our avatars within Sword Art Online were accurate re-creations of our faces and bodies, thanks to the NerveGear's scanners and the initial calibration process. But I had to admit that I hadn't seen anyone who appeared to fit the role they played quite like Agil did. He stood nearly six feet tall, with a hefty frame of muscle and fat, topped off by a face like a wrestling heel, practically carved out of a boulder. The one customizable option we had was hairstyle, and he chose to go as bald as a cue ball. He was as imposing as any barbarian foe to be found in the game. But when a grin cracked his face, that craggy scowl became lovable and comforting. He appeared to be in his late twenties, but it was impossible to guess what he did back in the real world. It was an unspoken rule that no one in SAO discussed the other side. When Agil saw the contents of the trade window, the eyes under his thick brows grew wide. "Wait a second, that's an S-rank item, man. Ragout Rabbit meat…never actually seen one for myself. You aren't that hard up for cash, are you? You thought about eating it yourself?" "I have. But it's hard to find folks with a cooking skill high enough to handle this sort of—" Someone poked my shoulder from behind. "Kirito." It was a woman's voice. There weren't many female players who would call my name. In this situation, there was only one. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Instead, I quickly grabbed the hand over my shoulder and spoke as I swiveled around. "Caught me a chef." "Wh-what do you mean?" she asked, trying to retreat with her hand still clutched in mine. She had a small oval face framed by long chestnut hair on either side and hazel-colored eyes that flashed brightly. Under her petite, slender nose was a set of bright pink lips. Her graceful body was clad in a knight's uniform of red and white, and an elegant silver rapier sat in a scabbard of white leather at her waist. Her name was Asuna, and she was familiar to virtually everyone inside the game. The reasons were plentiful. First, there were her undeniably stunning good looks in a game with an extremely low ratio of female players. Though it pains me to be so frank, SAO re-creates its players' bodies and—in particular—faces with nearly perfect detail, and it was extremely rare to come across a truly attractive female player. You could probably count on your fingers the number of beauties at her level in the entire game. Another reason for her fame was the white-and-crimson outfit she wore—the uniform of the Knights of the Blood. Abbreviated "KoB," they were unanimously considered the most talented and powerful player guild in Aincrad. At thirty members, the KoB was modestly sized, but they were all high-level swordsmen, and their leader was a legendary figure held by many to be the most powerful man in SAO . Behind her winsome looks, Asuna was the vice commander of the guild. Her skill and speed with the rapier had earned her the moniker "The Flash." In short, she stood atop all six thousand players in Sword Art Online in the combination of appearance and skill. It would've been crazy if she wasn't famous. Naturally, she had gained many fans, including some who took their appreciation to the depths of obsession, and others who felt a fiery antagonism. It couldn't have been easy for her. Very few people were foolish enough to take on one of the best warriors in the game, but the guild intended to ensure the safety of its officers, so multiple bodyguards always attended her. Sure enough, two men in metallic armor and white capes stood a few steps behind her. The one on the left, a thin man with longer hair pulled back behind his head, was staring daggers at me as I held Asuna's hand. I let go, my fingers drifting a sardonic greeting to the man as I responded to her question. "Strange to see you here, Asuna. Didn't think you frequented dumps like this." Veins throbbed on the foreheads of both the long-haired man at my casual address and the shopkeeper at my appraisal of his establishment. But when Asuna gave Agil a friendly greeting, his scowl melted into a sappy beam. She turned back to me, her lips pursed. "What was that for? We're about to tackle the next boss, so I'm only checking in on you to make sure you're still alive." "You're already on my friends list, so you can see my status anytime. Besides, the only reason you're even here is because you tracked me down on your map." She turned her face away from me in a huff. Despite only being a sub-leader in her own guild, Asuna was a principal figure in the game's progress. It was part of her responsibility to round up solo players like me when arranging raid parties on the latest floor's boss, but coming out to personally check up on me was getting ridiculous. She put her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out at my gaze of half astonishment and half admiration. "Look, the only thing that matters is that you're alive. And…what was that about a chef?" "Oh, right. What's your Cooking skill at now?" I remembered that she had been putting time into building up her Cooking skill on a whim between all of the usual combat practice. She let a gloating smile cross her lips. "Are you ready for this? I mastered it last week." "What?!" That's…idiotic. (I didn't verbalize the thought.) Skill proficiency increases the more you use that skill, but the pace is glacial, and the skill isn't fully mastered until you get it all the way to a full 1,000. It's a separate process from the character level that goes up as you earn experience points. A level-up increases HP, strength, agility, and the number of skill slots available. I had twelve skill slots at this point but had only mastered three of them: One-Handed Swords, Search, and Weapon Defense. In other words, she had poured an unfathomable amount of time and energy into a skill that had absolutely no use in battle. "Well, I could use your help." I beckoned her over and enabled visible mode on my window so she could see it. She squinted doubtfully at first, but her eyes grew wide when she saw the item I had highlighted. "Wow! Is that…an S-rank ingredient?" "Let's make a deal. If you cook this thing for me, I'll let you have a bite." Almost before I could finish the sentence, Asuna the Flash's hand darted over and seized my shirt. She pulled my face down until it was just inches from her own. "H-a-l-f!" Stunned by this unexpected menace, I nodded my head automatically. By the time I realized what I'd done, she was already pumping her other fist in triumph. I tried to convince myself that it was a price worth paying for the point-blank view of such a pretty face. I closed the window and turned to Agil. "Sorry, man. The deal's off." "It's cool, I understand. But we're bros, right? Right? You'd let me take a little taste…" "I'll write you an eight-hundred-word review." "You can't do this to me, man!" Agil wailed as though the world itself were ending. I turned my back on him, and Asuna tugged on my coat sleeve. "I'll cook it for you, but where is that supposed to happen?" "Uh…" In order to utilize the Cooking skill, you need ingredients, utensils, and some kind of oven or stove, at the very least. Technically, I did have the bare minimum of supplies at my home, but such a filthy hovel was no place for the exalted vice commander of the KoB. She turned an exasperated eye to me as I stammered. "I'm assuming you don't have any of the necessary tools. But given the value of your ingredients, I might be willing to let you use my room," she offered, shockingly enough. My brain lagged as it struggled to comprehend her meaning. Asuna turned to the two guardsmen who made up her escort. "I'm going to teleport straight to Selmburg. I won't need my guard for the rest of the day. You may go." The long-haired man exploded as though he'd been holding in his rage for quite a while. If the fidelity on SAO 's facial expressions were finer, he'd have had two or three purple veins bulging out of his forehead. "L-Lady Asuna! It's bad enough that you're visiting this slum, but I cannot allow you to bring such a suspect individual into your home!" His exaggerated mannerisms made me wince. "Lady" Asuna? He was probably no better than her obsessed stalker fans. I noticed that she seemed just as exasperated as I was. "His character aside, he's a worthy fighter. He's probably got at least ten levels on you, Kuradeel." "Th-that's preposterous! How could I possibly be inferior to…" The high-pitched protest echoed off the alley walls. His sunken, glaring eyes fixed on me, then widened with comprehension. "That's it! You're a beater, aren't you?" Beater was an epithet unique to SAO , a portmanteau of beta tester and cheater . I'd heard the slur time and time again, but it always caused a certain level of pain. The image of someone I'd once called a friend flashed through my mind—the first person to ever say the word to my face. "Yeah, that's right," I said without expression, but he continued more forcefully than before. "Lady Asuna, he doesn't care for anyone but himself! Nothing good can come from fraternizing with his kind!" Asuna had been playing it cool, but now her brows knitted together in displeasure. A crowd was starting to gather around us, and I could hear the words KoB and Asuna being murmured. She took note of the increased interest and turned on Kuradeel, who showed no signs of regaining his composure. "I told you to leave. That's an order from your vice commander," she growled, grabbing the rear belt of my coat and pulling me backward. She began tugging us toward the main square. "H-hang on, are you sure about this?" "I'm sure!" Well, who was I to argue? We left the two guardsmen and the crestfallen Agil behind and slipped into the throng. I took one last backward glance. The picture of Kuradeel glaring with fury stuck in my mind like an afterimage.
