—They were playing poker. Didn’t she know the term “poker face”? With a glance at the redhead, who was glaring at her hand as if she would groan audibly any second, the man spoke. “The redhead is Stephanie Dola—she’s part of the bloodline of the former king. The way the will is written, if someone not of royal blood takes the crown, she’ll lose everything, so she’s aiming to put herself on the throne. “After that king brought us humans to such ruin, that his family should struggle so hard…” The man added this and sighed. It was a blunt explanation of the excitement inside. “Hm…mm…” “Hmm… ‘Play for dominion’—even national borders are decided by games, huh?” The hooded girl and young man muttered their thoughts to each other. The girl impressed. The young man amused. “So, that’s how it is: it’s a free-for-all gambling tournament.” “…Free-for-all?” “Basically, any member of Immanity who wishes to stand for the crown may speak up and challenge his rivals to a game, by any means he sees fit. He who loses shall be stripped of his right, and he who stands left at the end shall be king.” —Well, well, these rules were easy enough to understand. Excellent. Still, the hooded young man asked doubtfully: “…Sounds pretty casual. Is that really going to work?” “It is, after all, a play for dominion under the Ten Covenants, which promise that each may wager whatever each agrees is of equal value, playing according to any rules—anyone may contest anyone at anything at any time.” “…No, well, that’s not exactly what I meant.” As the hooded young man muttered suggestively, he peered once more into the tavern. “…No wonder she’s losing,” the girl muttered to him. “Yeah, no kidding.” As the two conversed, the young man drew a rectangular object from his pocket. He faced it toward the inside of the tavern and manipulated something, and there was a sound: snap. —And the middle-aged man grinned. “So, lad? Should you really be worrying about other people’s battles?” With that, the man opened his hand flat. “Full house. Sorry about that.” Sure of his victory and thinking of what would come after, the man’s lips curled in a filthy smile. —But the hooded youth replied as if never interested from the start, as if he’d just now remembered that he was playing a game of poker. “Huh? Ohh, yeah, sorry, that’s right.” As the youth carelessly opened his hand, the middle-aged man’s eyes opened wide. “A r-royal flush?!” The youth had been holding the strongest hand in the game without so much as a peep. The man stood up and shouted. “Y-you…you think you can pull one over on me?!” “Whaa… Come on, don’t be rude… What basis do you have for saying that?” The youth blithely slid out his chair and stood up. The man pressed further. “The odds of a royal flush are one in 650,000! How could that happen?” “It just happened to be that one in 650,000 today. Bad luck, old man.” The youth slipped out the words and held out his hand. “Now, may I accept the promised wager?” “Damn it!” Clucking, the man held out his purse, and then another pouch. “The Sixth of the Ten Covenants: ‘Wagers sworn by the Covenants are absolutely binding’—fine, good game.” “…Thanks…Pops.” As the hooded young man calmly left his chair, and the girl nodded her head and chased after him, the bearded man watched them go into the tavern, and an apparent friend of his approached him. “Ho, I was watching the whole time, but did you really bet everything you had on you?” “Aahh… Mercy me, how will I pay the bills…” “But, wait, back up. You bet the money you needed for your bills? What the hell kind of wager did your opponent make?” The fuzzy man sighed and answered with a look of disinterest. “That I could do whatever I wanted with them.” “Wha—” “I did think it sounded too good to be true…but they seemed unworldly, and I thought it might… What?” “No, I mean…which are you?” “—Come again?” “I mean…a fruit or a pedo? Either one is…well…” “Wha—h-hey, wait!” “Oh, relax; I won’t tell your wife. Just buy me a meal!” “It’s—it’s not like that! And, anyway, I just lost all the money I had! And, to begin with—” …… “…Brother…that’s not fair.” “Huh? What’s your problem?” “…You intentionally…cheated, in such an obvious way.” —Yes, just as the man had said. A royal flush was a hand that could hardly ever happen. Laying out a hand like that was tantamount to declaring that you had cheated. But— “The Eighth of the Ten Covenants—‘If cheating is discovered in a game, it shall be counted as a loss—’” The young man mumbled the rules of this world he had just learned as if to confirm them. “—In other words, as long as it’s not discovered, you can cheat. Isn’t it great we confirmed this?” Suggesting that he was just trying it out as a casual experiment, he stretched. “Welp, now we’ve got some war funds.” “…Brother… Do you understand the money here?” “How am I supposed to understand it? But don’t worry; this is what your brother does best.” They talked so as not to be heard by the bearded man and his apparent friend. Then they entered the tavern-inn. Ignoring the table at the center where the crowd still hooted over the match, they approached the counter. The hooded young man dropped the pouch and purse with a thud on the counter and asked slowly: “So. Two people, one room, one bed is fine. How many nights can we stay?” A man who appeared to be the master. A glance. A moment’s hesitation, and then: “…That’ll be one night, with board.” But the hooded young man responded coyly—smiling, except with his eyes. “Aha-haa… Look here, Mister, we’ve been awake for five days, and we’re dead on our feet from walking way more than usual. We’re exhausted, you know? Can you just cut to the chase and tell us how many nights, really?” “—What?” “I mean, if you want to try to swindle people you think are just bumpkins who don’t know the value of money here, that’s up to you, but let me just give you a tip—when you’re lying, you should watch the direction you look and the tone of your voice, okay?” —Sharpening his gaze to see through everything, the young man spoke with a smile. With a line of cold sweat and a cluck, the master answered: “Tsk. It’s two nights.” “And there you go again… Well, let’s split the difference and say ten nights with three meals.” “What! What difference are you splitting?! Fine—fine—three nights with board. It’s true!” “Oh, is that so? Then give us a discount and make it five nights with board.” “Wha—” “Come on, you can treat us with some of that money you’re embezzling as you rip off customers, right?” “Wha—wait—how—” “You’re the master of the tavern, not the inn, right? I’ll be happy to rat you out.” The young man smiled wanly, but played dirty. The master strained his face and answered. “You’ve got an innocent face, but a dirty disposition, kid… Fine, four nights with three meals; how’s that?” “Great; it’s been a pleasure.” The young man smiled and took the room key. “You go up to the third floor, all the way back, and it’s on your left. Hff… What’s your name?” Looking in a sour mood, the master took out the register. The hooded young man answered. “Hmm… Just leave it blank.” Sora spun the key he’d received around his finger. He thumped his hand onto the back of his sister, who was watching the table where all the match excitement was happening. “Hey, I got four nights. Sing praises upon your brother and his—what’s up?” Shiro was staring at Stepha…whatever her name was, the redhead that the bearded man had been talking about. She was still suffering, and still showing it clearly on her face, so much so that it was hard to imagine she might still think she could win. “…That one’s—gonna lose.” “Well, yeah. So?” If she showed her emotions on her face so obviously, there was no way she could win regardless of her draw. Perhaps the bearded man was right when he suggested that the blood of the royal family was stupid. As Sora pondered this—he realized. “—Oh—” He realized the true meaning of his sister’s words and opened his mouth. “Aagh, I get it… That’s scary…” “…Mm.” Sora murmured and Shiro nodded, looking at the black-haired girl. “Now, that’s… This world’s cheats are amazing. I don’t wanna go up against that…” “…They put you to shame, brother…” Sora, apparently irked by these words, argued defensively. “Hng, don’t be stupid. It’s not how great your cheats are; it’s how you use them.” “…Brother, can you beat that?” “—Guess this really is a fantasy world… It doesn’t quite click; I mean, it kind of feels too natural… Maybe I really have played too many games?” Not bothering to answer his sister’s question, Sora was already walking up to the third floor. “……Dumb question…never mind.” This was Shiro’s apology. That’s right: For “ ”, loss was inconceivable. And…on their way, as they passed Ste…what’s-her-name, the redhead, on a whim Sora whispered. “…Ma’am, you know you’re being hoodwinked, right?” “Huh?” She was stunned. Her blue eyes went round, contrasting with her red hair. Having had their say, Sora and Shiro went up to the third floor, feeling the dumbfounded gaze of the girl on their backs…Even so, they left it at that, proceeding to their room without looking back. Turning the key, hearing the creaking of the shaky fittings, they looked beyond the opened door. The room inside—was a cheap-looking wooden room like ones they’d seen in Obl*vion and Skyr*m. The floor squeaked with footsteps, and the room was small. In the corner was a sad excuse for a table with seating. Otherwise, there was a bed and a window. That summed up this most basic of interiors. They entered the room, locked the door, and finally took off their hoods. The young man in just a T-shirt with jeans and sneakers, with messy black hair—Sora. The small girl in a sailor suit with red eyes hidden by long, frizzy, pure white hair—Shiro. Throwing off the robe he’d borrowed so as not to stand out (his appearance being rather unfamiliar to this world), Sora flopped down on the lone bed as if deeply relieved. He took his phone out of his pocket—and put a check mark in his task scheduler. “Objective: Find lodging… Achieved.—That’s that. I can say it now, right?” “…Mm. I think so.” After checking the item off, he uttered from the very bottom his heart a single statement: “Aaaahh, so tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrred……” And how. He’d sworn he wouldn’t say it until that moment, but now that he’d said the words and the dam was broken, Sora’s grousing started flooding out unstoppably. “I can’t believe this shit! Not only did we actually have to go outside, we had to walk, like, forever!” Shiro followed his lead in finally taking off her robe, and she patted out the wrinkles on her sailor suit. She opened the window and looked out. From the open window, she could just see the cliff where they had been—far in the distance. “…People can accomplish great things, when they want to.” “Yeah, you can’t do anything if you don’t feel like it—that’s a great way of expressing our reality.” This was a rather negative interpretation—but his sister nodded in assent. “But, man, I totally thought my legs had atrophied by now. I’m surprised I could walk that far.” “…’Cause you were using mice with your feet?” “Ohh, yeah! It’s really true that skills are transferable!” “…Never thought they’d be…transferred, this way.” Their comedy routine seemed to be approaching its limits. Shiro’s eyes started to close more than halfway. The sister wobbled dizzily down onto the bed onto which Sora had collapsed. She didn’t express it on her face, but the pain of her fatigue was clear from her breathing. —Well, that was hardly surprising. She may have been a genius girl, but she was still a lass of only eleven. After five days without sleep, she’d played the chess match and gone on a lengthy forced march interrupted only by spots of unconsciousness—she’d traveled a distance even Sora found grueling (albeit on Sora’s back toward the end) without a word of complaint, and that much was worthy of wonder. For that reason itself, Sora had sworn to himself he wouldn’t complain until now. “Good job. You’re such a good little girl, my sister; your brother’s very proud of you.” He stroked her hair as if to comb it. “……Mm. We got a place…to sleep.” “Yeah, when we were attacked by those bandits, I really didn’t know what would happen.” Sora thought back to a few hours earlier. In other words…when they first found themselves stranded in this world. “—Well, then, what shall we do?” Sora spoke, and Shiro shook her head. They’d come back from their second spell of unconsciousness. Sora had shouted and ranted about the absurdity of life. Shiro had spaced fully out, sigh after sigh escaping her lips. Seeming to finally grow weary of this, they regained their composure in the midst of their fatigue. They moved away from the cliff and sat down beside a simple road that hadn’t even been paved. “…Brother, why here?” “You know, in RPGs, they always have these big roads? Where people pass by…” It was questionable how far his knowledge from games would apply. But anyway. “—So, this is where we check what we have.” Sora had a feeling that was always what they did in survival stories. With only that wisdom, they took out their items from their pockets one after another. What came out: Two smartphones (Sora’s and Shiro’s). Two DSP handheld game consoles. Two modular spare batteries, two solar chargers, two multicharger cables. And the tablet Shiro had ended up carrying along with her— …It was a wealth of equipment not at all befitting castaways. However, it was all for games. They carried it with them at all times, in the bathroom, in the bath, such that even in a blackout they’d never be without games. Though truth be told, it was questionable whether this kind of wealth would help in a real survival scenario. “…I guess there wouldn’t be any signal in a fantasy world.” Sora looked at his phone. It said there was no service. —On the other hand, the backlight would serve as a flashlight at night, and it could take photos and videos. Maps obviously didn’t work, but he could use it as a compass. Feeling gratitude for the sophistication of modern phones, Sora spoke. “…All right, let’s turn off your phone and the tablet and charge them up with the solar charger while the sun is out. I have a bunch of e-books on the tablet I downloaded to study for quiz games; in the worst-case scenario, we might need a survival manual.” “…Roger.” She obediently turned them off and connected them to the solar charger. Shiro had learned from experience that it was best to follow her brother’s instructions when in an unforeseen situation. …So: It was possible to use the power of science (Sora’s phone) to find which way was north. But, still, it was just as if they had been cast out on the wide blue sea with no maps and only a compass. With the fruits of cutting-edge technology in hand, they sat on the wayside, lost in life. “—Hey?” There were a few people walking down the road. “Hey! Sweet! It’s time for my RPG experience to shine!” “…Brother, they look…weird.” And the group that had shown up suddenly picked up speed and spread to surround them. Their green garb, their shoes that looked easy to run in— “Oh, God, they’re bandits.” Sora looked up at the sky and said this without thinking. That the very first people they should encounter on the road should be Hello, we are bandits from a fantasy world. Just as if straight from a template, this mean-looking bunch—Sora was just about ready to curse the heavens in earnest. Feeling danger to their persons, Sora physically guarded Shiro. —But what the bandits said. “Heh-heh…If you want to pass—play a game with us.” ……The siblings could only look at each other—but. “—Oh, yeah, that kid said that everything’s decided by games in this world.” “This is what bandits are like here?” They immediately got the picture: Compared to robbers in their own world…this looked so heartwarming, so cute, even, that they couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you sniggerin’ about, you whelps! If you don’t play our game, you ain’t goin’ a step further!” the bandits shouted, not comprehending why they were being laughed at. Regardless, the siblings conspired with each other in voices just too low for the bandits to hear. “So, they gang up on one person, cheat, and take everything they have—yeah?” “…Sounds…perfect.” Having talked it over, Sora clapped his hands twice. “Okay, that’s fine; we’ll play you. But I regret to inform you we haven’t got shit.” “Hrmm, no matter, lad; we’ll just—” But Sora went on, interrupting the bandit. “If we lose, do anything you want with us. Sell us off somewhere, whatever.” “—Huh?” The bandit squinted at this proposal stealing a march on what he was going to say. “In exchange, if we win—” With a spine-chilling smile across his face—the brother continued. “—show us the way to the nearest city! Oh, and give us the robes those two are wearing. I mean, you know how the people from another world always stand out with their weird clothes. Oh, and tell us all about this world’s game rules!” Showing the adaptability of his brain to all games, he rattled off requests as if he already knew he would win. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Sora murmured. “Ten Covenants—hmm. Shiro, have you got them down?” “…Mm. Interesting…rules.” His sister answered drowsily as if about to fall asleep. Once they’d been soundly beaten, the bandits had explained the rules of this world. He took out his phone, where he had jotted them down, and read them over. The Ten Covenants—. Apparently they were absolute rules set by the God of this world. The sister had memorized them easily, it seemed, but what the brother had on his phone was this: 1. In this world, all bodily injury, war, and plunder is forbidden. 2. All conflicts shall be settled by victory and defeat in games. 3. Games shall be played for wagers that each agrees are of equal value. 4. Insofar as it does not conflict with “3,” any game or wager is permitted. 5. The party challenged shall have the right to determine the game. 6. Wagers sworn by the Covenants are absolutely binding. 7. For conflicts between groups, an agent plenipotentiary shall be established. 8. If cheating is discovered in a game, it shall be counted as a loss. 9. The above shall be absolute and immutable rules, in the name of the God. “And Ten—‘Let’s all have fun together’…” —… “It sounds like it’s ending with ‘The above’ at Nine, but then there’s Ten…” It seemed as if it were saying that having fun together was not mandatory. Or maybe it was something more like: Not that I think you bozos are capable of having fun together. These ironic “rules” recalled the face of the “God” or whatever, who looked like he was having fun, at least. “That kid who pulled us into this world—if that’s ‘God,’ He’s not a bad guy.” The brother put away his phone and smirked to himself. As he lay on the bed and thought…it seemed that the fatigue finally caught up to him, as his consciousness clouded and his thoughts began to diffuse. “…Guess it’s only natural when you think about it. After staying up for five days, suddenly there’s this…” Beside the mumbling brother, his sister held on to his arm, her breath already indicating that she was asleep. When she lay down and her bangs fell from her face, it revealed skin white as porcelain, a face composed like a work of art. It seemed like a bad joke that they were siblings. She was like a doll. “—I’m always telling you you should at least put on a blanket…You’ll catch a cold.” “…Mm.” To the brother who spoke to her, the sister asked for a blanket with her vacant response. He hesitated to put the dusty-smelling blanket over his sister, but it was probably better than nothing. Watching the sleeping face of his sister as he heard the sound of her breath, the brother thought: —Now, what are we gonna do after this… So Sora took out his phone and started fiddling with it. He looked to see if he had any apps that might be of use, and then it occurred to him: —In stories about people drifting between worlds, they always worry first about how to get home… —His parents were already gone. —His sister wasn’t accepted by society. —He himself could never accept society. —In that world, there was no place for him except in the screen. “…Hey. Why is it that, when the main character gets thrown into another world, they always try to go back to their own world?” Knowing she was asleep, he went and tossed out the question anyway, but, as expected, there was no answer. After their four nights here, what should they do next? He gave a shot at thinking about it—but, before he could reach a conclusion, sleep shut off his train of thought. —Knock, knock. The gentle knock at the door was enough to wake him—probably the jumpy nerves from arriving in this unfamiliar land. Shushing his body’s screaming that it needed more sleep, Sora’s brain spun up rapidly. “……Mnng…” —This did not, however, seem to apply to his sister. She was still clutching her brother’s right arm, deep in sleep, dripping drool. This comforted him like nothing else; every bit the enviable young girl in the midst of her dream. “That’s right; come to think of it, in this world, bodily injury and plunder are impossible…” In other words—the things they’d normally have to watch out for didn’t matter in this world. Perhaps grasping this—no, obviously he grasped it. Quickly adapting to this world, Sora smiled ruefully at the peaceful face of his sleeping sister. “I sure can’t beat you in brains…” —Knock, knock, knock. Hearing the gentle sound again, Sora answered. “Ah, right, yes, who is it?” “My name is Stephanie Dola. Regarding the matter you spoke to me about during the day…” …Ste-pha-nie… Oh. He took out his phone and checked the photo he had taken. The classy-looking girl with red hair and blue eyes. That’s right, at the tavern downstairs—the one who had been playing a game to be the new monarch or something. “Ahh. Right, I’m coming.” “…Mng…” “—Sister, your love makes me delighted to be a brother, but let go of my arm; I can’t open the door.” “…?…What…?” His sister, still looking more than half asleep, finally let go of his arm. Sora peeled his heavy body off the bed, squeaked across the wood floor, and opened the door. The expression he saw on the other side was quite different from the one in the photo on his phone—the Stephanie standing there before him looked crushed. “—May I enter?” “Uh, sure, c’mon in.” Going with the flow, he decided to let Stephanie into the room. He offered her the little table and chair in the corner of the cramped room. Sora then sat on the bed with his sister, who was sitting there swaying to and fro, still not quite awake. Stephanie was the one who spoke first. “…What is the meaning of this?” “—Of…? Oh, just to make it clear, we’re siblings, all right? It’s not like—” “…Geh… Brother rejected mee…”
Chapter 4
21 min read