Now, in 2047, countless tiny shops jostled up against one another for any and every business related to electronics and networks and subcultures. Because the windows of the buildings lining the streets glittered with as much neon as people could pack in, there was nothing in the way of uniformity of color. Standing in Electric Town at night was like standing in the middle of a galaxy with dense formations of primary-colored stars.
If Haruyuki connected his Neurolinker to the global net now and allowed unlimited ad information, his field of vision would no doubt be so full of holopamphlets for sales on Neurolinkers and standalone custom computer parts and all sorts of applications software, he wouldn’t be able to see.
“Nice.” The edges of his mouth relaxed at the informational disorganization that was far more virtual world than real one when he was abruptly choked by the collar of his jacket yet again.
“This way.” Blood Leopard seemed entirely unaffected as she started walking north on a sidewalk overflowing with shoppers, dragging Haruyuki along with her.
She took him to a remarkably noisy building a little off from the main street. At first glance, he had no idea what kind of place it could be. A neon sign at the entrance read QUADTOWER, but beyond that, the lights were turned down, enshrouding the place in a gloom. Loud electronic noises leaked out, an infinity of machines.
“Quadtower? What is this place?” Haruyuki asked, a little freaked out.
“Arcade,” Pard replied, aiming for the building without the slightest hesitation. They descended a short staircase and the instant they stepped out onto the dark floor, the meaning of that single word became clear.
The bare concrete floor was jammed with prehistoric game machines, old CRT monitors and joystick control panels embedded in enormous cabinets. The sounds of punches and explosions and background music flowed unimpeded from the many speakers, while players sitting on long chairs pounded and banged single-mindedly, all clacks and smacks, on the panels.
He watched in mute amazement from the wall as one player, at a console backed up to another of the same kind so that they were in mirror position, struck a victorious pose, and the audience behind the player burst into cheers. On the opposite side, a young man stood up, looking regretful. Players apparently fought each other on the two machines.
A member of the audience soon slipped in to take the losing player’s place. The girl, flamboyantly dressed as if she herself were a game character, plucked a silver hundred-yen coin from her pocket and dropped it into a slot in the middle of the panel.
“O-oh, right,” Haruyuki murmured with a dry mouth. “Arcade means video arcade…and these machines, they’re those arcade games from way back!” he continued excitedly, but Blood Leopard simply replied, “Yes,” with her standard brevity and started walking again.
While he understood the reason they had come to this neighborhood and the seriousness of the situation he had gotten dragged into, he couldn’t help thinking how much he’d like to sit down at that fighting game, just once. He had never touched that sort of large controller, but when it came to game pad–controlled 2-D fighting games, he had played so many on consoles at home, it was sick.
However, the real kicker here was that he did not have a single piece of old-school material money like a hundred-yen coin in his pockets or in the bag on his back. If he poked around in the arcade, he’d probably find an electronic money changer somewhere, but if he got separated from Pard in this expansive, dim place, he’d be screwed—or more to the point, she’d get mad at him—so he regretfully abandoned the idea.
Finally, belatedly, feeling doubts about why she had even brought him to this place, Haruyuki chased after the plait swinging against the maid’s back and arrived finally at an elevator in the wall farthest in. They stepped into the cab of the terrifyingly ancient machine, and it started to lurch and clack its way upward, stopping at the fourth floor.
The other side of the opening door was pin-droppingly quiet, a world apart from the ground floor. Instead of game cabinets, this room was lined with narrow booths, divided by solid-looking panels. The wall to the right was taken up by a row of drink machines.
This sort of place Haruyuki was familiar with. A so-called “dive café,” a place that provided private rooms for full dives, both in the middle of town and at a low price. You could lock the booths, so compared with leaving your real-world body in an open space like a family restaurant or a coffee shop, a dive café was far and away the safer choice.
That said, if they were just headed to a dive café, he was sure there were several near the garage where they had left the motorcycle. He wondered why they’d had to come all the way to this building. Pard quickly finished up at the deserted front counter and walked briskly into the café, leaving him no choice but to chase after her again.
“Get in.”
He was ordered into what was clearly a single-person booth, but Blood Leopard came in after him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. This time, he couldn’t keep his questions to himself.
“Uh, um, there’s only one chair.”
“No pair seat booths open. We can squeeze in,” she responded expressionlessly, closing the sliding door. The sturdy-looking lock fell into place with a sharp clack.
Gathering up her long skirt, she sat on one side of the recliner. When she slid her slim frame right to the edge, there were actually about forty centimeters of space left on the chair. But that was just barely enough for his plump self. He’d have to jam himself in.
“Um.” He was about to continue with, I’ll just get another room for myself, but the maid beat him to the punch.
“No prob. I’m fine with a kid stuck up against me.”
But I am totally not fine!! And anyway, considering the first requirement for a Burst Linker, we are at most three years apart!! he yelled in his heart, but still, he resigned himself to let things be what they would be and set his body down next to Blood Leopard’s, stammering, “E-e-excuse me,” as he did. He did his best to cling to the armrest, but there was still only a gap of about two millimeters between her aproned chest and the tip of his nose.
A soft, sweet scent wafted up, and the moment he realized it was the smell of cream and strawberries, he nearly lost consciousness. But he managed to hold it together somehow, and he heard her murmur so close to him he could feel her breath on his forehead.
“First, set up a full-dive avatar that’s not connected to the real you.”
“Huh? Ha, yeah.” Cranking his decelerating brain back up, he did some quick manipulations of his virtual desktop and changed his avatar from the pink pig he used in the Umesato local net to a green lizard he had never used. “I-I’m done.”
“When you do the full dive, dive into the access gate with the tag ‘Akihabara BG.’”
“G-got it.”
“’Kay. Countdown. One, zero.”
Normally, you start from three at least!! Simultaneous with this thought, the same command was released from both of their mouths.
“Direct link!”
With a whoosh, his consciousness and real-world body were separated, and Haruyuki fell into the darkness.
Several access gates approached from below. Since he was currently disconnected from the global net, they should all have been via the local net operated by the Quadtower building. Among glittering and sparkling text like ALL-YOU-CAN-READ COMICS! and FREE ONLINE GAMES, there was indeed the inconspicuous tag AKIHABARA BG.
When he reached an invisible hand toward it, his vision was pulled in and the moment he was sucked into the circular gate, he felt the slightest of lags—the sense of something being verified. But the sensation of moving soon came over him again, and eventually, the soles of his feet touched the ground with a hard metallic clank.
When he raised his lowered face, he couldn’t tell if he was in an enormous bar or a club or what. All the floors and walls were made of steel plates and chain-link mesh rusted red. The center of the square space was a sort of atrium, and on the
first and mezzanine floors enclosing it, rough, naked steel tables were lined up equidistant from one another. He could see a few avatars at the tables in the gloom who appeared to have dived into the bar at the same time as him. They sank into the shadows, but the instant he saw their silhouettes, something clicked in him.
This was not the Accelerated World. It was a normal virtual space. Even still, Haruyuki knew these people were all Burst Linkers. And he realized only people with Brain Burst in their Neurolinkers could connect to this Akihabara BG net. He gulped his green lizard throat several times and let his eyes roam farther.
The next thing he noticed was the large four-sided monitor suspended on chains from the ceiling in the center of the expansive space. The bar was dimly lit, so he could clearly make out the text on the virtual screen.
Displayed at the very top was TODAY’S BATTLE in a gothic font. Below that “18:00,” probably a time. And then FROST HORN, LV5, 1.57 VS SLATE BOTTLE, LV4, 3.22. Definitely a notice for an upcoming duel. But he didn’t really understand the numbers after the levels, the ones with the decimal.
“Um, where…” Haruyuki finally stopped looking around and started to talk, hushed, to Blood Leopard, who was standing next to him.
Her avatar was—justifiably but perhaps surprisingly—no longer wearing the maid’s uniform. Her entire body was covered in a skintight black leather riding suit. But topping this body was not a human head, but a catlike beast with sleek, dark red fur. Here, for the first time, Haruyuki remembered the Japanese meaning of the English name Leopard.
The feline-headed female rider glanced down at Haruyuki’s lizard avatar with eyes that glowed a faint gold. “Akihabara Battle Ground. The Burst Linker duel Holy Land.”
“H-Holy Land…?” he repeated before a thought struck him. “So, Akihabara? Does that mean this is a Yellow Legion base or something?”
“No. This is the only neutral place in Akihabara. Follow me.” She walked away, boots ringing out against the hard floor, so he started after her.
At the very back of the bar was a counter, naturally made of steel plating. Blood Leopard slid down into the center of a stool in a single, smooth motion. Haruyuki climbed up onto the one next to her with a heave-ho of his lizard body.
“Evening, Matchmaker.”
An avatar popped its face up on the other side of the counter at Pard’s quiet voice, and Haruyuki immediately shouted to himself, A dwarf! Stout and short of stature with a scraggy beard, wire-rimmed glasses over sunken eyes and a huge bow tie around his neck…He looked so much the dwarf it was strange he wasn’t holding an ax in his sturdy hands.
The dwarf avatar first looked at Pard’s leopard head and hoisted a single eyebrow before looking next at Haruyuki’s lizard head and humming nasally. He looked back at Pard and grinned.
“Well, here’s a sight for sore eyes. How many months has it been, Leopard?” An incredible baritone, the perfect dwarf voice. But the person connected to this net and controlling the avatar had to be a Burst Linker, too, which meant that even if he was one of the most senior ones, he couldn’t have been more than seventeen. But it was probably rude to be noticing things like that.
Pard shrugged lightly. “Eight months.”
The dwarf, who apparently went by the name Matchmaker, laughed and his beard shook again. “Guess you’re missing the shoots here. Or you just looking to earn a little pocket money?”
“Sorry, I didn’t come to duel today. Or bet.”
At this, Haruyuki reflexively asked, “B-bet?!”
The dwarf raised an eyebrow and indicated the huge central monitor with a jerk of his beard. “You saw those numbers, yeah? You saying those look like anything other than odds?”
“Odds…” Now that the dwarf mentioned it, that was exactly it. The 1.57 and the 3.22 after the duelers’ names were nothing other than the stakes for a bet. So then this place was like a bookie for Burst Linker duels.
“Wh-what on earth could you bet? N-n-not burst points?” he asked in a hoarse voice, and the dwarf snorted loudly.
“Idiot. You let people bet points, some jerk gets carried away and ends square at forced uninstall. Bets are in real money, obviously.”
“R-real money…” That was still plenty risky. This kind of privately operated gambling hall was completely illegal. Haruyuki flapped his mouth open and shut, and the Matchmaker grinned suddenly.
“Kid, you got any idea how much the leopard-headed lady here’s earned?”
“Don’t give him the wrong idea. The only thing I earned here was money from fighting; I’ve never made a bet, and even if you win, it’s five hundred yen a match. Way less than what I get at work.”
“…F-five hundred yen,” Haruyuki repeated, dumbfounded.
The dwarf laughed gleefully. “Well, that’s how it is. Betting, max is three hundred yen a match. Pretty much the best you could do on a student’s allowance.”
“…R-right…” Haruyuki finally relaxed the slightest bit, and then Blood Leopard put him back on the edge of his seat.
“Enough small talk. Let’s get straight to it.”
“Impatient as always, Leopard. If you’re not here for a match or to bet, then why’d you come?”
“Came for information. Wanna know about the local net troll…the Burst Linker who can block the matching list even when connected to a net.”
His reaction was striking. The instant he heard Pard’s request, a sharp light came glinting into the dwarf’s eyes, and he quickly looked up and down the counter. After checking that there were no other divers within hearing range, he squeezed out an even lower voice. “Where’d you hear about list blocking? The rumors running around now aren’t so detailed as that.”
This time, it was Blood Leopard’s brow that furrowed. “I’m asking the questions here.”
“Hmph. Guess so. In that case, you don’t need to pay me for this story, just tell me yours in exchange.”
“’Kay, as much as I can.”
The Matchmaker nodded sharply, leaned into the counter, and began to talk in a voice like a groan from deep in his beard. “The Burst Linker blocking the matching list. He’s a huge problem behind the scenes here right now.”
“So listen, kid,” the dwarf said, turning toward Haruyuki, who was visiting this place for the first time. “Akihabara BG’s a local net. You can only connect to it from inside the Quadtower arcade. If you want to be a betting match here, you gotta come here and register as a player at the counter. Then the system weighs level and compatibility to select the optimal duel opponent and displays the match time and odds in the center of the monitor.
“If you wanna bet, you put a maximum of three hundred yen on one of the two right up to the cutoff time. After that, immediately before match time, one of the players accelerates, selects their opponent from the matching list, and the duel begins. That’s the basic structure. Simple, yeah?
“The biggest rule on this local net is, only the players who’ve been matched up are allowed to duel. Break that rule, and a very competent bouncer will take down the better or whoever it was who went and challenged someone to a duel—in a duel, natch—and chase you out. This place is the dueler’s Holy Land. Even the ruler of Akihabara, the Yellow King, can’t touch anyone in here.”
“So anyway.” After taking a gulp of the liquid in a tumbler that had at some point appeared on the counter, the Matchmaker continued. “About a week ago, this rude bastard shows up and challenges one of the duelers right before the announced match was supposed to start. Without registering as a player. Akihabara BG’s set up so that all the divers have to show their ID when they connect initially, so the moment the guy showed up again the other day, the bouncer accelerated to send him packing. So then, see? He was definitely connected to the local net, but…his name wasn’t on the matching list.”
Haruyuki inhaled sharply. The situation the Matchmaker was describing. It was exactly the same as what was happening on the local net at Umesato Junior High.
Draining the gl
ass of the amber-colored liquid, the dwarf set it down on the steel plate of the counter. “That day, too, the bastard jumped into the match, took the player down, and then logged out cool as a cucumber. And then the next day. And the day after that. Right now, I’m explaining it away to the players and the customers as a glitch in the match registration system, but I’m at the end of my rope here. And rumors of the ‘local net troll’ are spreading like wildfire. If I can’t stop this guy running wild like this, it could mean the end of Akihabara BG.”
“Uh, um.” Gulping hard, Haruyuki asked timidly, “What’s the name of this Burst Linker who doesn’t show up on the list?”
The name the dwarf uttered with annoyance was “Rust Jigsaw.”
It’s not him. Haruyuki sighed unconsciously, but if it wasn’t him, then he had a different problem. Because that meant that there was more than one Burst Linker with the ability to block the matching list like Nomi could. In the Brain Burst system, this privilege was too huge.
The Matchmaker whispered similar misgivings. “You don’t get to pick your duel opponent. That’s the fundamental principle of the Accelerated World. You might wanna pick out only guys you’re good with, but you never know when one of them’s gonna show up on the list. And while you’re waiting for your perfect match to show, you get sucked into a duel with someone you’re bad with. Happens all the time. That’s why all us Burst Linkers polish our special skills and work hard to overcome our trouble spots.”
“That’s exactly it.”
“So this Rust Jigsaw is using the Akihabara BG system right now to pick out whatever opponent he wants. You just look at that monitor there and you know which Burst Linkers are gonna be connecting at what time. All that’s left is to pick someone you’re sure to win against and challenge them right before the match starts. Bastard’s already earned more than a hundred points in duels here alone. As the Matchmaker…and as a Burst Linker, I definitely can’t let this stand.” Concluding his painful story, the dwarf glared round eyes behind round wire frames at Haruyuki and Blood Leopard. “And that’s the long and the short of it. So now it’s your turn to tell. The only ones who’re supposed to know about Rust Jigsaw blocking the matching list are me and my bouncer, so where the hell’d you hear about it?”