Ding dong, ding doooong.
The first bell rang throughout the fantasy world’s equivalent of a classroom. Sat beside the window, I stared vacantly at the world around me. It was like the classroom was floating—clouds beside us, people visible far below... and there was a good reason for that. This school was actually set amidst a floating city.
The students in this room were all first-year, class E. Everyone looked different: warriors in full armor, leather-clad swordsmen, mages in pointy hats. I was a mage myself, clad in a robe and hood of deep indigo. Being in a game, there wasn’t a single set uniform, but the academy did distribute uniforms as rudimentary equipment.
The core of Yosei Academy was the VRMMORPG, Unlimited World (UW). I had logged into UW from my home PC and waited for class to begin. As for the game itself, I was a student of magic in the floating city of Telluna, which lay at the center of the game world, high above the sea, where I took normal classes. Hard to beat that commute, I can say that much.
The school was accessible from anywhere in Japan, simply because there was no physical school—it was based entirely in cyberspace. Even our textbooks were like in-game ebook items. Paperless, borderless, school-less, futuristic—that’s how the teacher referred to it. This school was evidently big into experimental teaching.
Apparently, the funding for this undertaking came from an alliance of gaming corporations. In other words, this was a collaboration between gaming and education, one that would seek out the hidden potential in video gaming. In doing this, the education industry seemed to be gasping for air in a society with declining birth rates that threatened to choke it to death... or at least, that was my impression when I looked at it from a broader perspective.
But I didn’t sweat the complex details like that. I was gaming, and that was all that mattered.
When school was in session, we took classes in this game. Afterward, we were free to do whatever we pleased—we could do quests, grind for levels, and other typical MMO things.
It had been a month since I started school, and I’d gotten used to this lifestyle.
“Do you have a moment, Takashiro?” The class rep, Maeda, spoke to me. She came off a bit aloof at times, but she was an elegant, demure girl if I’ve ever seen one.
To help the motion engine function smoothly, the game reflected your physical body in your avatar design, but you were free to edit your hairstyle and hair color. Maeda hadn’t even bothered with that, however. She must be a no-nonsense kind of person. Oh, but I guess I hadn’t messed with my hair, either. I just hadn’t really felt the need.
“Hmm? Sure, what’s up?”
“Your level is looking a bit lower than the class average. Is anything the matter?” I was a level 4 symbologist at the time.
“Uh? Hey, hold up a sec.” I opened the settings window and enabled the simple stat screen.
Kotomi Maeda (1-E)
Level 18 Scholar; no status icons.
I took a quick look at my fellow students. Everyone else was around level 15 to 20. Hoo boy, I was definitely bringing up the rear.
“I don’t mean to pressure you, but I’d appreciate it if you could catch up and help us on the big quest. I can powerlevel you if necessary.”
My first major event involved a competitive quest that was assigned to all first-years. The event was still ongoing. The quest challenged us to travel to Trinisty Island and defeat a boss monster that was spawning tons of mobs. More specifically, it was a race to see which class could slay it the fastest, and the winning class would acquire in-game bonuses.
As the class rep, Maeda was essentially our party leader, so it was up to her to bring us together.
I just wasn’t ready to grind levels yet, though. Just before the entrance ceremony, I’d received a message from Akira. He said he wouldn’t be around for the start of classes because he was hospitalized due to an injury. It would’ve been nice if he could just take his VR device with him to the hospital, but the thing is absolutely huge—you have to lie inside, like a tanning bed, to use it. It probably would’ve been more trouble than it was worth.
Sure, our promise had been hastily made, but I still wanted to keep it. I had planned to wait for Akira to join the game so we could grind together. After all, the discovery phase of a new game is the best part. I wanted to enjoy that with my good buddy Akira.
But Maeda was worried about me, so I didn’t want to make excuses. She wasn’t the party leader because she wanted to be, either; she was assigned the class rep role thanks to her entrance exam grade. It naturally followed that she would be the party leader. On top of that, this was her first MMO, since she was mainly an offline gamer. Even so, she was doing her best, so I figured I should cooperate.
“Oh, sorry! I’m just off to a slow start. I’ll try to catch up as soon as I can.” All I could give her was a vague, unreliable answer.
At that point, someone called from across the room.
“Hey, Kotomi! Kotomiiii!”
Yuuna Yano (1-E)
Level 24 Paladin; no status icons.
Wow, now that was a high level. She was probably the ace of our class right now. And a paladin, at that. As the tank that held the party together, she was pretty much the star of the show. Kinda surprising that she was one of those gaudy gal types, though. You didn’t see many like her with their tanned skin and bleached hair these days.
So yeah, a gaudy paladin. Yuuna had sort of an indifferent demeanor, but she was cute enough.
“Yes, Yuuna?”
“You don’t have to powerlevel Takashiro. No worries.” From what I’d heard, my classmates would often party up together after class to grind levels for the big quest. Yano probably joined them every day as their tank.
If you weren’t already aware, tanks are fighters that can shrug off damage and protect party members from attacks. It’s easily the most important role in a party. Even if the rest of the party sucks, a tank can carry them. And Yano was one of the best, I heard. She had a ton of experience with online gaming.
While we were at it, Maeda’s scholar class was focused on dealing damage. Meanwhile, my symbologist class was supportive.
“Yuuna, how can you not be worried about him?”
“You might not know it, but Takashiro’s pretty famous in gaming communities. They call him Ren, the Emperor of Underpowered. In every game he plays, he gravitates to the least-used classes and somehow gets good enough to rival the top players. He did it in EF, Demquest, and more.”
Not long ago, the class was idly discussing what games we’d played before, during which she recognized my name. She’s just someone who recognizes me from other games, I figured, and there we were in class talking about it like it was nothing. It was only natural in a school for gamers. Here, there were no unwritten rules that demanded you must hide your gaming addiction. Indeed, this was the epitome of comfort for us gamers, who no longer had to keep our guard up at every moment.
“Really, Takashiro?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m famous. It’s just a hobby, is all.”
I liked giving the hopeless and forgotten their chance to shine in the spotlight, you could say. My parents were baseball nerds, so let me explain it in those terms. Think of it like how Nomura’s known for his style of breathing life into benched players, or old southpaws learning new tricks, or athletes making comebacks through tryouts, or an up-and-coming player unlocking his hidden potential. They all had this drama to them. Not to mention, other people didn’t play these classes, so it was easy to be the first to discover new uses for them.
But of course, sometimes it just didn’t work out. Yano brought up my successes, but I’ve had just as many failures. Most of those were experienced alongside Akira.
“So hey, I guess you went and picked a bogus class for UW too? I think you’ve got a good chance of making it work, at least, so I say go nuts.”
Even in UW, there were a few underpowered classes. Players referred to them as a whole as “Bummers.” The class I chose, symbologist, was known as the pinnacle of the Bummers. It was effective at exploiting enemy weaknesses, but that’s about it. I couldn’t learn offensive magic, I couldn’t use weapons other than staves, and my stats were laughable at best.
With the class’s poor weapon options, it really set itself apart as the worst class in the game. Even the cleric class could wield maces while they healed allies, and other classes that couldn’t use strong physical weapons at least had magic to make up for it.