Chapter 11

This is an utterly ordinary world—or, more precisely, a thoroughly unremarkable one. Cities buzz with life, filled with people immersed in the ebb and flow of their daily routines. Streets pulse with the constant hum of traffic, cars weaving through like the lifeblood of urban existence.

The people here live quiet, predictable lives. From childhood, they experience the full spectrum of human emotion—the peaks of joy, the valleys of sorrow, and everything in between. This modern world lacks the flair of sword fights or the shimmer of magic; it's reality stripped bare. There are no towering heroes or heart-racing quests—just regular folks going about their modest, everyday days.

Everyone carries their own dreams and hopes, though these are rarely grand in scale. Sometimes it's the simple pleasure of looking forward to a good meal, or the excitement of planning a weekend getaway, or maybe the thrill of picking out a new outfit.

These small, fleeting desires stitch together the fabric of this world, lending it warmth and color.

When challenges arise, people don't reach for enchanted weapons or incantations. Instead, they turn to practical means—doubling their efforts, seeking advice, or reframing their outlook.

They grow through life's struggles, occasionally tripping over their own feet, only to rise a little wiser each time.

In short, this is an utterly ordinary world. Yet it's precisely within this ordinariness that life's true beauty and meaning quietly bloom.

Somewhere in this world lies an orphanage, modest and unassuming.

At this orphanage, children grow up following one of two paths. Some stay until they reach adulthood, then step out into the world on their own, free from the institution's care.

Others are taken in by adoptive families before they come of age, finding a new home and a different kind of childhood. These are the roads laid out for the children here.

A few months ago, though, an unusual boy arrived.

He was about five years old.

Even without adults to guide him, identification, or any way to check into a proper inn, he managed to charm complete strangers with an uncanny eloquence, convincing them to offer him shelter. People thought about alerting the authorities, but he'd slip away without a trace before they could act, as if he could sense their every move.

It wasn't until an orphanage worker spotted him wandering the streets that he finally agreed to come along, after a moment's consideration. His logic was straightforward: "If I can eat and live for free without worrying about survival, I'll have more time to pursue my own interests." And so, he settled into life at the orphanage.

This boy, with his striking blond hair, seemed to need nothing when he arrived. He didn't join the other children in their games or bother with the toys strewn about. Instead, he spent his days sitting quietly, listless and detached.

His odd behavior soon drew the staff's attention, and word of it eventually reached the orphanage director.

"So, what is it you want?" the director asked him one day.

The blond boy paused, then answered, "If possible, I'd like a computer. I could use it to look up information and play online games."

The director hesitated, brushing him off with a condition: "If you can score a perfect 100 in every subject, I'll consider getting you one."

He clearly misjudged the boy. The very next day, the child returned, requesting a test. Without so much as a furrowed brow, he aced every subject with flawless scores.

The director, a strict man, wasn't ready to concede. Fearing the boy might waste his talent on games, he went back on his word and raised the bar, handing him high school-level questions to stump him.

Yet, just one month later, the boy came back, asking for another test. To the director's disbelief, he sailed through the high school problems, once again earning perfect marks in every subject.

From then on, it became a familiar sight at the orphanage: a five-year-old boy sitting alone in a corner while the others played, hunched over a laptop, tackling intricate games that even adults found challenging.

Rumors of his talent spread beyond the orphanage, sparking curiosity in the surrounding community. People came from far and wide, eager to see this prodigy for themselves.

Not everyone was charmed, though. Some, put off by his aloof air, tested him with university-level problems, hoping to trip him up.

To their frustration, he solved every question with ease, his expression as blank as ever.

Only then did it sink in: this child was a true genius.

Adoption offers soon flooded in, but he rejected them all without a second thought. When asked why, he'd just smile faintly and say nothing.

That is, until one day, a voice interrupted him mid-game.

"You're that brilliant child prodigy everyone's talking about, aren't you?"

He glanced up from his laptop. Standing before him was a slender, striking woman in her twenties, her light makeup highlighting her features, her hair neatly tied back. She approached with a warm, inviting smile.

"Are you here to adopt me?" he asked, his voice flat and uninterested.

She nodded, still smiling. "I have two bright children of my own. Nice to meet you. I'm Midori Kirigaya."

Her hand reached out—graceful yet firm.

For once, the boy went quiet, lost in thought. After a moment, he extended his hand and shook hers.

"Midori Kirigaya? Kazuto Kirigaya mother," he muttered, as if connecting invisible dots. After a brief pause, he accepted her offer.

And so, to the astonishment of onlookers, he left the orphanage with Midori Kirigaya.

People murmured that she'd hit the jackpot, envy lacing their words.

In the family registry, she named him Roya Greyrat.

In another world entirely, Roya let go of his focus on Sword Art Online and cast a helpless glance at Roxy, sprawled across him.

He hadn't expected her sleeping habits to be so… uninhibited. She'd all but claimed him as her personal pillow.

A soft, pleasant scent wafted from her as he carefully pushed aside the arm she'd flung over him.

Her blue hair brushed against his cheek, and he sighed inwardly, a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance.

Why, he wondered, did this poised-looking girl sleep so carelessly, half her body draped over him?

He thought about waking her, but when he saw her serene face, lost in a peaceful dream, he couldn't bring himself to disturb her.

Fine, he decided. Let her sleep. Things were progressing smoothly elsewhere anyway.

So he shut his eyes.

But in the stillness of the night, he jolted awake, his breath uneven under a mounting pressure. Blinking sleepily, he glanced to his side.

At some point, Roxy had swung a smooth, slender leg over him. Her arms now gripped his neck tightly, her modest chest grazing his cheek.

His face warmed as he took in her tranquil, lovely features so close to his own. Suddenly, he second-guessed the wisdom of sharing a bed with such an enchanting girl.

Gently, he lifted her delicate foot off him and let out a quiet breath of relief. Good thing he was still young—five or six years older, and he might not have kept his composure.

Even so, after all that adjusting and maneuvering, his sleep took a hit, and juggling everything left him drained. It felt like he'd stayed up all night gaming.