Sinon squinted, feeling a slight itch in her trigger finger.
She tried to rub the sensation loose against the side of her
thumb, but the prickling feeling that plagued the core of her finger did not ease up. And she knew why.
It was Kirito. That rude, arrogant, insolent newcomer had
squeezed her hand too hard.
Her common sense told her that this was impossible. Sinon
was in the midst of a full dive through her AmuSphere, and no
matter how hard anyone squeezed her hand, it could not possibly
affect the flow of blood or the pressure on her nerves in real life.
Every physical sensation she felt in this world was false, a machine-created signal sent directly to her brain via electronic
pulses.
But…
The fact remained that Sinon still felt the pressure and
warmth of the black-haired swordsman's grip. And that was two
hours ago.
She gave up on trying to eliminate the sensation and put her
hand back on the antimateriel rifle, secure on its stand. Her index
finger traced the trigger, its springs set to light sensitivity. The
grip of the Hecate II, which had accompanied her through countless battles, melted into her hand like an extension of her arm.
Even then, the itching continued.
Sinon was crawling on her stomach beneath some bushes at
the lip of a short cliff, waiting for her chance to snipe.
The map was "Crossroads of the Wilds": an intersection of two
straight roads in the midst of parched highlands. The name of her
opponent was Stinger. Roughly twelve minutes had passed since
the start of their fifth-round battle, the first of the Block F semifinals.
If she won this, then no matter what happened in the final, she
would gain entrance to the BoB battle royale tomorrow, Sunday
night. But Stinger had won the same number of matches as she
had—this would be no walk in the park.
Just because he shared a name with the portable Stinger missiles did not mean he had them at his disposal. His main weapon
was the FN SCAR carbine rifle, which was quite dangerous on its
own. With a high-functioning ACOG scope, the gun's bullet spray
was much tighter and deadlier. If he could get within naked visibility range, Sinon wouldn't be able to stop him.
Fortunately for her, the two roads split the map into four
quadrants, and it was impossible to pass from one to the other
without traversing the center intersection. Since the two players
started at least half the map away from each other, there was no
way they could be placed in the same block.
So Stinger knew that he had to pass through the intersection
in order to get Sinon within his SCAR's range, and she knew that
she had to succeed at sniping him when he did.
Therefore, she expected that Stinger would delay his charge
until the last possible moment, hoping to catch her when her concentration was exhausted. On the other hand, she couldn't deny
the possibility that he would defy that expectation and charge
early, so ultimately, her only choice was to keep staring through
the scope, every nerve at full attention.
At the present moment, over half of the fifteen tournament
blocks from A to O had finished their entire lineup of matches,
and there were only about ten other battles currently in progress.
Back in the dome and the first-floor hall, as well as pubs around
the world, her match was being broadcast without interruption—
and anyone watching Sinon vs. Stinger had to be bored out of
their minds. Twelve minutes, and not a single shot had been fired
yet.
On the other hand, the other Block F semifinal currently in
progress had enough excitement to make up for the tedium of
this one, with change to spare. That match featured a close-range
specialist with two SMGs against an even closer-range fighter—
one swinging a lightsword.
She couldn't lose concentration. But even still, Sinon couldn't
help but think about the mysterious black-haired girl—er, boy.
When she finished her first-round fight in about ten minutes
and returned to the waiting dome, Spiegel—Kyouji Shinkawa—
greeted her with a rousing celebration. She thanked him briefly
and returned to the original box seats, only to be surprised by
Kirito beating her there. She hadn't expected him to win before
she did, and she was striding over to offer a bracing compliment
when she was hit with a different kind of shock.
Kirito, who had been so consistently impudent before the
match, had his head in his knees and his hands around them, his
downturned black head and slender shoulders trembling.
Poor thing. Fighting against a proper gun put that much fear
in him, even after he won the match.
She reached out and patted the night camo jacket the boy was
wearing.
Kirito jumped in surprise, and slowly, fearfully raised his head
to look at her.
The pretty, delicate features that anyone would have assumed
were feminine were painted with deep, terrible fear—like he had
just peered over the abyss into Hell.
"…You look like you've seen a ghost," Sinon muttered. Kirito
blinked several times in rapid succession and put on an awkward
smile.
He muttered that he was all right, it was nothing, and Sinon
asked him if the battle was really that bad. But the boy merely hid
his face under that long black hair and sighed, offering nothing
else.
She had no further obligation to be involved with him.
Kirito had intentionally utilized her misunderstanding about
his avatar's gender to take advantage of her directions, shopping
advice, and even followed her into the same changing room.
Of course, Sinon bore some fault for not requesting his name
card and for assuming he was a girl. So more than half of her
anger was really at herself for being careless.
After she'd been used like a tool by her classmates, Sinon
swore she'd never rely on another person, she'd never need
friends again. And yet she forgot that oath the instant the rare female GGO player asked her for simple directions.
It was fun, going shopping in the market and riding on the
back of that three-wheeled buggy. She realized that she'd been
smiling and laughing in GGO for the first time in ages. Sinon
wasn't really angry that Kirito was a man. She was angry because
she couldn't forgive herself for letting her defenses down around
him.
Which was exactly why she was so pleased to see that Kirito
won his first-round fight.
She needed to split that pretty face with a bullet from her
Hecate to prove that she could be stronger than when she met
him. And yet he had become a prisoner to his terror, a different
person completely.
Before she realized what she was doing, Sinon hissed, "You're
never going to make it to the final if that's how you're feeling after
one fight. Get it together—I've got to collect what you owe me, remember."
She had clenched her fist and pounded his shoulder again.
But the next moment, his white hands clenched hers. He
pulled it down to the breast of his fatigues.
"Wh-wh…what are you doing?!" she yelled, trying to pull away,
but Kirito held her hand tightly, with a strength that didn't seem
possible from his delicate body. His hands were cold as ice, and
the breath that touched her skin was just as freezing.
At that point, an icon started blinking in Sinon's view, advising
her to issue a harassment warning. If she touched the icon with
her left hand or said the word, Kirito would be banished to
Glocken's prison zone for a fair amount of time.
But Sinon couldn't move or speak.
She felt a strong sense of déjà vu from the sight of that fragile
avatar trembling in fear and clutching her hand. She'd seen a girl
suffering in this way before. It didn't take long before she realized
that it was herself.
Not Sinon the sniper, but Shino Asada. Curled up in her bed,
terrified of her memory of the scent of blood and gunpowder,
whispering for someone, anyone to help.
The instant she recognized this, all the strength went out of
Sinon's arm.
"…What's the matter…?"
He did not answer. But Sinon could feel it.
The black-haired character clinging to her hand—no, the
nameless, faceless player behind the avatar—was plagued by the
same darkness that Shino knew.
Sinon wanted to ask what happened. But just before the words
could leave her mouth, his body was enveloped in pale light and
disappeared. His next opponent had been determined, and he
was whisked away to his second-round battle.
She knew he couldn't put up a decent fight in that state. Sinon
sighed.
The loser was returned not to the underground dome, but back
to the hall of the regent's office. So if Kirito lost, she would likely
not see him again today—if ever.
And that was fine. He wasn't a friend, just a person she ran
across and accompanied to the office. She would forget his face
and name by the day's end, and that was that.
Or so she told herself, as Sinon pulled her dangling hand back
up to her chest.
And yet, Kirito defied her expectations and won the second-,
third-, and now fourth-round fights with just his lightsword and
handgun.
Just once, during the waiting period between her own fights,
was Sinon able to catch a glimpse of Kirito on the monitor. His
style was that of reckless suicide strikes, all desperate fury and ferocity. He shot back at the assault-rifle-toting AGI type with the
Five-Seven handgun Sinon had picked out for him as he charged
headlong, ignoring any bullets that hit his extremities and using
that lightsword to block the fatal shots in a display of mad
bravado. Once he'd closed the gap entirely, he sliced clean
through the enemy and his rifle.
Not a single player had fought this way in either the first or
second Bullet of Bullets. Sinon could only watch, wide-eyed, amid
the murmuring surprise filling the dome.
At that rate, Kirito was quite capable of reaching the final of
Block F. But how to fight someone with such an extreme style?
Even after her next match started, Sinon continued to mull
over her strategy. At the same time, she couldn't help but wonder
about Kirito the player.
That natural, curious smile when they were shopping for gear.
The cool, aloof attitude once she learned that he was a man. The
weakness he showed as he clung trembling to her. And now, the
demonic savagery of the blue blade he used to slay his foes.
Which one was the real Kirito? And why couldn't she keep herself from thinking about him?
Plagued by irritation without a reason, Sinon bit her lip and
kept her eye pressed to the high-power scope.
On the left side of the crossroads a kilometer away, a large
shadow leaped out from the profile of the cliff. Sinon adjusted the
Hecate's crosshairs automatically. The wind was coming at 2.5
meters from the left. Five percent humidity. She pulled the center
of the glowing reticle just a bit above the shadow and tugged the
trigger on the very first contraction of the bullet circle.
A blast.
Through the scope, she saw the .50-caliber bullet tear a tunnel
of heat haze through the air. Its gentle spiral down and to the left
connected with the upper half of the shadow.
"…Oops," she muttered, yanking the Hecate's bolt handle. The
empty cartridge popped out and the next round fit into the chamber.
The shadow that crumbled away did not belong to her opponent Stinger, but a simple mass of stone about three feet across.
The next instant, an even larger silhouette emerged from the
same direction, spitting up dust.
It was a High-Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle
(HMMWV), better known as a Humvee. Vehicles were not the
personal property of either player, but left somewhere in the map
as a bonus awaiting whoever found it first. Sinon immediately noticed that despite the fact that the cars in the stage appeared in
pristine condition, this one's front bumper was already dented.
That meant he had rammed that first rock out into the open with
it.
Stinger, sitting in the driver's seat, must have known that
Sinon's weapon was a bolt-action rifle that couldn't fire consecutively. He also knew that she would be camping out, watching the
intersection he needed to traverse.
Therefore, he set up a plan to use the Humvee to knock the
boulder into the crossroads and cause her to fire, then race
through the empty space before she could get off her second shot.
It was a good plan. In the space of time that Sinon pulled the
handle, the car was already halfway through the intersection. She
had time for one more shot, if that, and no time to focus on aiming.
But Sinon did not panic.
Although Stinger had stolen the sniper's best weapon—the
first shot without a warning bullet line—he had given her valuable
intel. The trajectory that her first shot traveled was now burned
into her mind. If she kept her wits about her, the second would
move the same way. If she made use of that information, she
could fire with much greater precision on the second shot.
Sinon shifted the barrel and quietly pulled the trigger. Another
blast.
The bullet honed in on the Humvee's small side window as if
sucked into it, easily piercing the heavy bulletproof glass.
The next moment, the vehicle shot sideways, rolling up against
the rocks at the shoulder of the road. It stuck against the far cliff,
and dark, reddish smoke billowed out of the hood.
"If you'd jumped out of the car and run, you might have been
able to avoid the bullet line," she admonished, loading her third
bullet. With her eye still stuck to the scope, Sinon kept the burning Humvee in her reticle. Stinger did not appear for several seconds, which suggested that he might have died right in the driver's seat. She did not ease herself out of firing position.
Sinon crawled out of the bushes and got to her feet only after
the Congratulations! message appeared in the sunset sky.
The match time was nineteen minutes and fifteen seconds.
She had cleared the semifinals.
Now she had her ticket for tomorrow's BoB main event. But
Sinon didn't even crack a smile, much less pump a fist. Her mind
was already on the Block F final match coming up in moments.
She had no doubt that the mysterious newcomer Kirito had
won his semifinal match in shorter time than she did. His opponent was a close-range fighter who held an SMG in either hand.
No matter how many bullets you could produce, once the swordsman got within range, he would slice his foe with that fatal energy
blade before you could carve his HP away. Kirito's reaction speed
was so quick that he could predict the bullet prediction line. If
you wanted to beat him in close combat, you needed one of those
M134 miniguns.
So Sinon kept the Hecate secure in hands, frozen in place until
the teleporter carried her to the next battle. A few seconds later,
she was moved not to the domed waiting room, but the preparatory space before the final. As she expected, the name of her opponent displayed above the hex-panel floor was Kirito.
When she opened her eyes after the next teleportation, Sinon
saw an elevated bridge, arrow-straight, and a bloodred sun in the
process of setting.
It was the "Transcontinental Highway" stage. The size of the
map was the same as the others before it, but there was no way to
scale down the hundred-yard-wide highway that crossed the map
from east to west, so it was actually quite a simple, narrow area to
fight in.
On the other hand, with all the countless cars, trucks, downed
helicopters, and bulging chunks of pavement, there was no way to
see from one end to the other with the naked eye.
Sinon spun around and confirmed that she was on the eastern
edge of the map. Which meant that Kirito, her opponent, was at
least five hundred yards to the west.
She glanced at her surroundings and started running. Her target was the double-decker sightseeing bus ahead on the right.
Sinon raced inside the ajar rear door and climbed the stairs to the
second deck. She threw herself belly first onto the floor of the
center aisle and deployed the bipod, pointing the gun straight
ahead—out through the panoramic viewing window at the front
of the bus. She was in firing position, the front and rear flip covers on the scope open.
The sun was directly ahead. That meant that no matter where
she was hiding, there would always be the danger that the sunlight would catch the lens of her scope and tip the enemy off.
There was no easier target than a sniper exposed.
But the mirror-coated windows of the bus would help hide the
reflection of her scope. It was also tall enough that she could see
over nearly all of the impediments below.
Kirito was probably making his way over at high speed, flitting
from cover to cover. With his skills, there was no way she'd be
able to snipe him with the bullet line visible; Sinon would only
have one chance: while he was unaware of her location.
I can hit him. I know I can, she told herself, and pressed her
right eye to the scope.
Even she couldn't fully explain what drove her to desire this
victory so badly. Yes, she had helped him with directions and
shopping advice while he was hiding his gender from her, and he
had watched her change clothes.
But that was all that happened. She hadn't suffered any item
or monetary loss, and the only underwear he'd seen belonged to
her avatar. They'd spent less than an hour together from meeting
on the streets of Glocken to separating in the domed auditorium.
She could easily forget something that brief.
Yet Sinon wanted to beat Kirito with such a fiery passion that
all the countless other battles she'd fought in GGO paled in comparison. Yes, even Behemoth, the terrible minigun user. Why was
she so fixated on someone who'd just shown up here today, and
who insisted on being a minority lightsword fighter rather than a
gunner…?
…No.
No, maybe she already knew the reason why.
Because somewhere in my heart, I haven't fully accepted him
as my enemy. When his frozen hands clutched mine as he trembled atop that hard, uncomfortable seat, an emotion without a
name was born in my heart.
Sympathy? No.
Pity? No.
Empathy…? Definitely not.
I don't empathize with anyone. There is no human being alive
who can bear the darkness that plagues me. I've had that hope
and been betrayed before, over and over and over and over.
Only my own strength can save me now. I'm in this spot because I've learned that fact.
I don't want to know Kirito's problems, and I don't need to.
One emotionless bullet will destroy his bewitching avatar and
bury it among the countless other targets I've reduced to dust.
Then I'll forget him.
That's all I need to do.
Sinon stared through the scope and traced the trigger with her
finger.
Which was why, when she saw the black silhouette stand
against the red of the setting sun, Sinon forgot her sniper's instincts for a moment and gasped.
"Wha…?"
Long black hair rippling in the breeze. Slender limbs in nighttime fatigues. A lightsword handle hanging from his belt. It was
Kirito.
But he wasn't running. He didn't even seem to care about hiding. He was walking, very leisurely, down the center of the highway on a slightly raised bulge in the road. It was a completely defenseless maneuver, absolutely unlike the last match.
Does he think that he can dodge my shot, even without the
bullet line?
The challenge sparked her mind like an explosion. Sinon
trained her scope's crosshairs right over Kirito's head. Just as she
was about to put her finger to the trigger, she realized that her
conjecture from a second ago was mistaken.
Kirito wasn't facing forward. His face was downcast, his body
devoid of strength. He was simply moving his legs one after the
other. It was a lifeless plodding, the polar opposite of his possessed charge in the clip she'd seen earlier.
He could not possibly dodge Sinon's shot in this state. The
Hecate II fired bullets far faster than the speed of sound, so he
wouldn't hear the gunshot until it was too late. With his face to
the ground, he wouldn't even notice the flash of the muzzle.
Meaning…Kirito had no intention of dodging at all. He would
take her shot and lose on purpose to bring an end to the match.
After earning the right to appear in the final battle tomorrow, he
didn't care about the battle with Sinon at all. That was all it
meant.
"…Why…you…" she rasped.
She put her finger to the trigger again and tightened it. The
green bullet circle appeared and rapidly pulsed over Kirito's head.
Its frantic rate indicated the wild state of her heartbeat, but the
wind was weak and the target was only four hundred yards away.
If she fired, the shot would land.
Beneath her index finger, the trigger spring squeaked. But her
finger relaxed again. She tensed it, and the spring squeaked. Then
back.
"…Screw this!" she yelped, the wailing of a crying child.
At the same moment, Sinon squeezed the trigger. The roar of
the .50-caliber rifle filled the tourist bus and the large front window cracked cloudy white and exploded outward.
The bullet split the crimson sunset sky and passed well over a
foot away from Kirito's right cheek to slam into the belly of a car
on its side far behind him. A pillar of fire erupted, followed by billowing black smoke.
Kirito stumbled a bit at the air pressure from the 12.7 mm bullet passing by his head, then stopped and looked up. The only
readable thought on his feminine features was disbelief that she
would miss. Sinon stared at that face through the scope, pulled
the bolt handle, and fired a second round without missing a beat.
This one flew far over Kirito's head and disappeared into the
far distance.
Reload. Pull trigger. The third shot gouged a huge hole into
the asphalt to the left of his black boots. Reload. Fire. Reload.
Fire. Reload, fire.
The sixth cartridge clattered next to Sinon briefly, then disappeared.
Through her scope, the unharmed Kirito continued to stare at
her questioningly. Sinon got to her feet unsteadily, cradling the
Hecate in her arms, and walked up the aisle of the bus. She made
her way through the frame of the missing windshield and hopped
down onto the street.
After a few dozen steps, when she was just fifteen feet away
from Kirito, Sinon stopped. She stared down the unmoving
swordsman dressed in black.
"…Why?"
Kirito understood the question and the accusation behind it.
His black eyes wavered and returned to his feet. Eventually he
spoke, but his voice was as bland and lifeless as an NPC's.
"…My goal is to appear in tomorrow's final—that's all. I have
no reason to fight now."
She expected that answer, but couldn't stand to hear it. That
disgust flooded her chest and pushed out her next sentiment.
"Then you should have taken that gun and shot yourself the
moment the match started. Did you not want to waste the ammo?
Or did you think that standing still so I could rack up one more
on the kill counter would satisfy me?!"
She took another step toward the silent man.
"It's just a single match in a stupid VR game—you can think
whatever you want! But don't force me to play along with your
stupid philosophy!" she shouted, her voice shaking. Even she
knew that she didn't really believe what she was saying.
If anything, Sinon was forcing him into her philosophy. If
what he did was unacceptable, she should have hit him with the
first shot and forgotten it ever happened. Instead, she wasted six
shots trying to intimidate him, and now she was hurling all her
emotions at him up close. If anyone was acting irrationally, it was
her.
But…
She still couldn't stop herself. She couldn't stop the arms
cradling the Hecate from trembling, the muscles of her face from
scrunching up, or the teardrops that spilled over the rims of her
eyelids.
The silhouette of Kirito against the setting sun across the horizon still had its eyes shut tight. His mouth was clamped down.
Eventually, the tension drained out of the delicate avatar, and
he spoke in a weak voice with just a hint of emotion behind it.
"…I…I once blamed someone the same way you did, just
now…"
"…"
Kirito glanced at Sinon and dipped his head briefly.
"…I'm sorry. I was wrong. It's just a game, just one match, but
that's exactly why I need to do everything I can…Otherwise, I
don't have a reason or the right to live in this world. I should
know this already…"
The swordsman from abroad raised his head and stared into
Sinon with those black eyes.
"Will you give me a chance to make it up to you, Sinon? Will
you fight with me?"
In her surprise, she momentarily forgot her anger. "Right
now…?"
The BoB prelims were more like encounters, battles that began
without knowledge of the enemy's location. Now that they had
come face-to-face without fighting, there was no way to return to
the starting conditions.
But Kirito smiled weakly and pulled the Five-Seven from his
waist holster. She tensed up automatically, but he held out a hand
to stop her, and pulled the slide. The cartridge flew out and he
caught it in midair, then returned the gun to the holster.
Twirling the 5.7 mm bullet in his fingers, Kirito said, "You've
still got ammo, right?"
"…Yes. One shot."
"Let's have a duel, then. How about…we separate to ten yards.
You use your rifle, I'll use my sword. I'll toss this bullet up, and
the fight begins when it hits the ground. How's that?"
Sinon was less surprised by this than exasperated. She did not
realize that her anger from moments ago had somehow dissipated away.
"Are you thinking that's going to make for a proper fight?
There is no way I can miss at ten yards. Between my skill proficiency, my base stats, and my gun's specs, the game will guarantee a bull's-eye. You won't even have time to swing your
lightsword. It would be the same thing as committing suicide."
"You don't know unless you try," Kirito sassed, his red lips
curling into a grin.
The moment she saw that look, a buzz ran up Sinon's spine.
He was serious. The swordsman actually thought he could beat
her in a serious, Old West–style duel.
Yes, there might only be one more bullet in the Hecate II's
magazine, which made him feel that if he could somehow dodge
that shot, he could win. But that was foolish. You couldn't "somehow" do anything to a bullet that was guaranteed to hit. The
speed, accuracy, and power of her gun was miles ahead of that
antique revolver in the shopping mall's bullet-dodging game.
But—what if there was something to Kirito? She couldn't help
but want to see that.
Sinon nodded and said, "All right. That will settle this."
She turned around and took ten paces to the east along the
center divider, then turned back to the sun.
They were exactly ten meters apart. She raised the Hecate, set
the stock against her shoulder, and spread her feet to brace
against the recoil.
In the real world, even the strongest man could not accurately
fire an antimateriel sniper rifle from a standing position, but with
enough strength in GGO, it was possible. The blowback would
knock her off her feet, of course, but with only one bullet, that
didn't matter.
She pulled the bolt and popped the last remaining bullet into
the chamber.
With her cheek pressed to the receiver, Kirito's figure filled the
entire scope, even at minimum zoom.
There was none of the lifeless emptiness in his girlish beauty
anymore. His obsidian eyes sparkled and flashed, and a confident
smile played across his lips.
With the bullet from the Five-Seven held between the fingers
of his extended left hand, Kirito removed the lightsword from his
waist. He flicked the switch on with a thumb, and the pale blue
energy blade buzzed to life.
At this point, anyone watching the Block F final had to wonder
what the hell these two were doing. But that wasn't their concern.
One bullet against one blade. It shouldn't have been a proper
fight, but the prickling tension that curled the hairs on the back of
Sinon's neck was real.
There is something to him.
The Hecate's sights slipped just a little bit. On the other end of
the scope, Kirito's lips moved.
"…Here goes, then."
He flicked his thumb. The bullet went spinning, spinning, high
into the air, glittering in the evening sun like a ruby.
Kirito dropped into a crouch, his left side leaning forward and
the lightsword in his right hand drooping downward. It was an
easy stance, not a hint of tension from his toes to his fingertips.
Yet there was an invisible pressure exuding from that fragile
avatar, the pressure of one whose heart is in the sights of a gun.
Sinon could tell that her own senses were heightening as well.
The 5.7 mm bullet spinning through the air was moving far too
slow. All sound disappeared, leaving only her body and the
Hecate II. In fact, even the boundary between those two things
was gone. Shooter and gun became one, a precision machine designed to hit a target with a high-speed bullet.
The white reticle and green circle vanished from her view. The
bullet dropped in slow motion, tumbling, turning, before the
silent swordsman. It passed through the field of her scope and
vanished, but she could still feel it: It spun end over end as it approached the pavement; its pointed head touched the asphalt; the
game system determined that two objects had collided, generating the appropriate sound effect; the sound echoed through the
AmuSphere as an electronic pulse, into the auditory center of
Sinon's brain, and—
Ting.
The instant the sound hit her ears, she squeezed the trigger
with her index finger.
Within her accelerated consciousness, Sinon witnessed and
processed with vivid detail a number of phenomena that occurred
in the next second.
Orange fire spat from the large muzzle of the Hecate.
Across the way, blue lightning split the darkness at a diagonal
angle.
Two sparkling comet lights split left and right into the distance.
As the massive recoil of the antimateriel rifle toppled her
backward, Sinon belatedly understood the meaning of what she'd
seen.
He cut the bullet.
The instant that the bullet serving as the signal to duel hit the
ground, Kirito sliced the lightsword diagonally, splitting the .50-
caliber bullet that should have killed him in two. The two comet
tails she saw were the pieces of the shattered bullet grazing the
sides of his body as they flew apart.
But that was impossible!
It would be one thing if he guessed on the bullet's trajectory,
swung in blind desperation, and got lucky. But Sinon had deliberately pointed away from the center of his avatar, aiming for his
left leg instead.
Large-caliber bullets like the ones the Hecate shot added an
extra effect called Impact Damage. At this ultraclose range, the
impact effect meant that even a hit on the arm or leg would
spread damage to the entire body, easily wiping out his HP.
Being brand-new to GGO and having zero knowledge about
guns, Kirito could not possibly have understood this. So if he was
going to guess the trajectory of the bullet, he would protect the
center of his body, naturally.
Yet he accurately caught the bullet screaming toward his left
thigh with the blade of his lightsword. It wasn't a gamble. At that
range, that speed, without any bullet-line assistance. But why
—how?
Even in that moment of shock, Sinon's arms kept moving. She
took her left hand off the Hecate as she fell and tried to pull out
the MP7 on instinct.
But before that could happen, Kirito closed the thirty feet that
separated them with a lightning dash, bearing down on her. The
blade in his right hand growled and lit her world blinding blue.
She was going down.
But Sinon did not shut her eyes against the blow. She kept
them open, taking in the fan of sleek black hair splayed out
against the giant setting sun—
And then everything stopped.
Sinon was still falling backward with the Hecate in one hand
and the MP7 in the other, but still she did not hit the pavement.
Kirito's left arm was around her back.
And in his right hand, the glowing blade was held still against
her defenseless throat. The growling plasma sword and the dis-
tant whistle of the wind were the only sounds.
Kirito was crouching deep on his left knee, while Sinon lay flat
on her back. It was like a still frame from a dance scene.
Those pitch-black eyes were right in front of her face. She'd
never let anyone get this close in the virtual world, much less the
real world, but Sinon didn't even think about this. She just stared
back at him.
"…How did you predict where I'd shoot?"
His lips parted on the other side of the energy blade.
"I saw your eye through the lens of your scope."
Her eye. Her line of sight.
The black-haired swordsman was claiming that he could tell
where the bullet was going based on her line of sight.
Sinon had never considered that someone in this virtual world
might have that skill. A sensation, much like a chill but not entirely, shot through her back to the top of her head.
He was strong. Kirito's strength transcended this VR game.
But that made the question even more pertinent: Why had he
been curled into a ball and trembling in the corner of that waiting-room dome? Why had he clung to Sinon's hand with those
freezing fingers?
An even quieter question escaped her lips.
"If you have this much strength, what could possibly terrify
you?"
Kirito's eyes wavered slightly, and after a brief silence, he
sounded like he was holding something back.
"This isn't strength. It's just technique."
For a moment, Sinon forgot about the deadly blade of light
pressed to her throat, and shook her head fiercely.
"Liar. You're lying. You can't cut a bullet from the Hecate with
technique alone. You know something. How did you get that kind
of strength? That's…that's what I'm here to learn…"
"Then let me ask you," he muttered, his voice low but burning
with blue flame, "if that bullet could actually kill a player in real
life—and if you didn't kill them, either you or someone you care
about would die—could you still pull the trigger?"
"…!!"
Sinon forgot to breathe. Her eyes bulged.
For a second she wondered, Does he know? Did this mysterious visitor know about the event hidden in the darkness of her
past, the incident that had blackened her life as she knew it?
No, he doesn't. He doesn't know. But he's probably experienced…something like it…
The hand supporting Sinon's back tensed hard, then relaxed.
Kirito lifelessly shook his head, the tips of his long bangs brushing her forehead.
"…I can't do it anymore. That's why I'm not truly strong. I…I
didn't even know the real names of the two or three people I cut
down…I just shut my eyes, covered my ears, and tried to forget
everything…"
Sinon didn't understand what he meant.
But one thing was for certain. Kirito harbored the same darkness and fear that dwelt within her. And in the time that he'd
spent waiting for the next match in the dome, something had
happened—something that drudged up the darkness he'd thought
was buried.
The MP7 slipped out of Sinon's hand and clattered on the asphalt. Her empty hand rose upward on invisible strings to approach Kirito's white cheek, beyond his glowing sword.
But just before her fingertips could brush him—
The impudent smile returned to his face. There was still a look
of pain in those dark eyes, but he shook his head and stopped her
hand with a word.
"So…shall we assume that I've won the duel, then?"
"Huh…? Oh. Umm…"
She blinked in confusion, unable to switch gears. He leaned in
even further.
"Would you mind resigning, then? I'd prefer not to slash a girl
in two."
It was that shameless, rude, show-offy line that finally got
Sinon to reassess the situation—pathetically and miserably immobile, held tight with a hand on her back and a sword at her
throat, their bodies pressed together. And this scene was being
broadcast live into the tournament dome, the regent's office, and
every pub in Glocken.
Sensing the blood rushing to her cheeks, Sinon gritted her
teeth and spat back, "I'm glad I get another chance to fight back.
You'd better stick around in tomorrow's final until I have a
chance to take you down myself."
Then she turned her face away and shouted the command to
resign.
The time of battle was eighteen minutes and fifty-two seconds.
Block F preliminaries for the third Bullet of Bullets were over.