Aincrad 1

  “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 o
f 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.

  6

  Selmburg was a beautiful castle town on the sixty-first floor.

  The city itself wasn’t particularly large. An old castle with fragile minarets loomed over the center of town, but the buildings were painstakingly built of chalk-white granite with copious greenery placed to great effect. The selection of shops was rich as well. Many players coveted the chance to live in Selmburg, but the cost was exorbitant—at least three times that of Algade. Residence was a pipe dream for all but the highest-level players.

  It was well past sunset when we arrived through the teleport gate, the last remaining traces of sunlight reflecting purple on the town.

  Most of the sixty-first floor consisted of lakes, and Selmburg itself sat on a small island surrounded by water. The view of the sun shining through the outer aperture of Aincrad and reflecting off the lake was worthy of a painting, at least. The sparkling scenery of dark blue and red set atop that massive lake was so breathtaking, I couldn’t help but be bewitched. The only thing that could take away from the sight was the knowledge that it was just child’s play to the NerveGear’s diamond-semiconductor CPU.

  Selmburg’s teleport gate was located in the square before the old castle. The town’s main street stretched south, lined with leafy trees. Shops and homes both quaint and elegant stood along the boulevard, and the NPCs and players who walked the city seemed to carry themselves with more class than elsewhere. Even the air seemed to taste different than in Algade; I couldn’t help but stretch my arms and inhale deeply.

  “It’s so big and spacious here. Feels liberating.”

  “You should move, then.”

  “Don’t have nearly enough money,” I mumbled, shoulders slumped. I gathered myself and cast her a concerned look. “Seriously, are you sure this won’t cause trouble with your folks?”

  “…”

  Asuna seemed to catch my meaning and turned around, hanging her head and kicking the heel of her boot on the ground.

  “It’s true that I’ve had some unpleasant encounters while alone, but my own personal guard? It’s too much. I keep telling them I don’t want this, but it’s guild protocol, the chief of staff tells me…”

  She continued in a downcast mutter.

  “In the past, we were just a small guild. The commander picked every member himself. But we just keep taking on more members, and people come and go…Things started to get crazy when they began calling us the most powerful guild here.”

  She stopped talking and twisted her torso around. Something in her eyes seemed to plead for help, and the breath caught in my throat. I have to say something, I thought, but as a solo who did everything out of self-interest, what could I say? Several seconds of silence passed.

  Asuna broke the eye contact first. She looked at the deep blue of the lake and piped up in a much higher pitch, sounding eager to change the mood.

  “But it’s not that big a deal! Better hurry before it gets dark.”

  I started walking after her through the town. We passed no small number of players, but none of them stopped to stare at Asuna’s face.

  I spent a few days in Selmburg about a half year back, when it represented the frontier of our advancement through the game, but I couldn’t remember ever stopping to take in the sights. Gazing at the exquisite sculptures on display, I felt a momentary desire to live here permanently, but then thought better of it, deciding it was better suited to the occasional holiday trip.

  Asuna’s residence was on the third floor of an attractive little maisonette, immediately to the east of the main street. It was my first visit, of course. Thinking back on it, the most I’d ever interacted with Asuna before was at boss strategy meetings. I’d never even stopped at an NPC-run restaurant with her. I couldn’t help but hesitate at the entrance of the building.

  “So, uh…are you sure this is okay with you?”

  “It was your idea, wasn’t it? Besides, there’s nowhere else to do the cooking.”

  She turned her head with a huff and trotted up the stairs. I steeled my willpower and followed her.

  “W-well, pardon the intrusion.”

  I stopped stock-still when I passed through the door, my mouth agape.

  I’d never seen such a neat and orderly player home. The spacious living room and adjacent kitchen were filled with lightly colored wooden furniture, and accents of moss-green cloth tied together the visual style. It was all likely custom-made of the highest quality by other players.

  Despite the emphasis on looks, there was no ostentatious decoration, which made the whole place seem inviting and comfortable. It was a stark contrast to the lair I called a home. I was glad I’d chosen not to invite her there.

  “H-how much did all of this cost?” I asked bluntly.

  “Hmm, about four M for the room and furnishings together, I think? Sit wherever you like; I’m just going to change.” She disappeared through the door on the other side of the living room. The letter M was shorthand for million, just like K for thousand. I spent my days adventuring on the front line, so I’d probably earned that much in total during my time in SAO, but with my penchant for spending money on whatever swords and equipment caught my eye, there was no way I’d save up a lump sum like that. Indulging in a rare moment of self-reflection, I sank into a soft couch.

  Eventually, Asuna emerged from the back room wearing a simple white tunic and skirt that stopped above the knee. Changing clothes in the game didn’t involve actually removing or putting on anything—it was as simple as dragging items onto the character mannequin in the equipment screen. But because there were a few seconds during the shift in which a player was temporarily reduced to his or her underwear, female players made certain not to change in public, though the men didn’t seem to mind doing it. Our bodies were just 3-D models made of ones and zeros, but when you’d lived in this world for two years, you tended to take things at face value. My eyes naturally traveled to the newly exposed skin on Asuna’s limbs.

  Unaware of my inner conflict, she shot back a look at me. “How long are you going to wear that gear?”

  I hastily brought up the menu and removed my leather coat and scabbard. I switched to my item window and materialized the Ragout Rabbit meat into a ceramic pot, placing it on the table.

  Asuna picked up the container and peered into it with a reverent expression.

  “So this is what an S-rank ingredient looks like! What dish are we having, then?”

  “Um, I’ll have the chef’s choice.”

  “Okay…how about a stew? They don’t call it a ‘Ragout’ Rabbit for nothing.”

  I followed Asuna into the other room. The kitchen was spacious, with pricey-looking cooking tools hanging next to a large, wood-fired oven. Asuna tapped the front of the oven twice as though double-clicking, and a menu popped open. She set a cooking time and pulled a metal pot out of the cupboard, transferred the meat from its container, added some herbs and water, then placed a lid on top.

  “Normally there’d be many more steps in the process, but SAO’s cooking system is really simplified and boring,” she complained.

  Asuna placed the pot in the oven and hit the start button on the menu. The timer was set to three hundred seconds, during which she hummed about quickly, pulling ingredients out of a seemingly unlimited larder and arranging dishes with the efficiency of familiarity. I couldn’t help but admire her flawless speed without a single mistake.

  Five mi
nutes later, there was a gourmet feast on the table, and Asuna and I sat facing each other. The plate in front was piled high with a piping-hot brown stew that stimulated my nose with every waft of steam. Rich chunks of meat wallowed in a thick, shining sauce marbled with white streaks of cream. It was bewitching.

  Barely stopping to say thanks before the meal, I grabbed my spoon and shoveled up a mouthful of the most delicious food in the entirety of Sword Art Online. The savory heat and flavor filled my mouth as I sank my teeth into the soft meat, letting the juice spill out.

  Eating in SAO isn’t a realistic simulation of every single sensation that should occur from chewing in-game objects. Argus utilized a “Taste Re-creation Engine” contracted from an environmental software developer.

  The engine is designed to send “eating” sensory input to the brain of the user based on certain pre-set variables, originally for the sake of those on a diet or who would otherwise need to observe a period of limited food intake. It sends false signals of flavor, scent, and heat to the sensory areas of the brain to fool the user. Our real bodies aren’t receiving any nutrition from this act of eating—the system is simply stimulating our brains.

  But there was no use dwelling on this fact. What I felt in that moment, all that mattered, was that I was eating the greatest meal I’d had in the two years since I first logged in to the game. We didn’t share a word, silently shoveling spoonfuls of the stew into our mouths.

  Finally, after we had literally cleaned every last trace of stew from our plates and the cooking pot, Asuna let out a contented sigh.

  “Ahhh…I’m glad to still be alive…”

  I had to agree. I sat back, sipping a strangely scented tea, reveling in the fulfillment of a primal urge satisfied to completion. Were the meat and tea programmed to resemble some real-life ingredients, or were those flavors just the fictional product of a number of finely tuned parameters?