"This place okay?"
"Fine."
Securing a private rental space for player meetups, Shana and Pitohui entered. Shana sat on the sofa, waiting for Pitohui to start. She fidgeted, staring at him eagerly.
"What?"
"Hoping you're the 'jackpot' this time."
"Jackpot? What makes someone a hit or miss?"
"My info says about 30 players were in the final SAO battle. Out of 6,000 survivors, the top dogs are just 0.5% of them. Meeting one is near impossible, right?"
"So you want to talk to those top players. Yeah, odds are slim."
Shana nodded.
"And above them, the four legendary players—only their nicknames known. Talking to one would be ideal, but that's probably straight-up zero chance."
"No way that happens."
(Except I'm right here.)
"What info are you after?"
"What really happened there—stuff like that."
"It's a death game, isn't it?"
"Details. Like… player conflicts."
(Is she fishing for my identity? Laughing Coffin had no women, so not that. Just curiosity?)
"Heard those rumors. Can't confirm them."
"So, what's the deal?"
"When strangers gather, conflict's inevitable. Human history 101."
Pitohui stared silently. Shana met her gaze, and silence hung heavy. She broke it first, exasperated.
"I'll share something."
"What?"
"Why I'm obsessed with SAO."
"Go on."
Shana wasn't too interested but considered Laughing Coffin ties and listened.
"Well?"
"I was an SAO beta tester. But something unavoidable kept me from logging in on launch day. I'm an SAO loser."
"Loser, huh? Failure. But that saved your life, no? What's the issue?"
"I wanted to feel alive in SAO, staking my life in battle!"
Her shout made Shana sense her regret, but his grounded values found no sympathy.
(Good thing she wasn't in SAO. She'd likely have joined Laughing Coffin. For now, she's unrelated to them…)
"So I tortured every supposed SAO survivor to hear their stories."
"Even if you got details, it wouldn't ease your regret. It'd make it worse."
"Maybe, but I still want to hear it from someone who was there."
To her stubborn insistence, Shana scoffed.
"You're a walking death wish. Honestly, you seem broken."
"Rude. I've got enough common sense to keep game stuff in-game."
Shana spat back.
"Yet you crave life-or-death battles? Sounds like you just want to kill legally."
"No! I don't want to kill!"
"But fighting players means being ready to kill."
"That's…"
Pitohui faltered, unable to counter. Shana stood, voice cold.
"Thought this was serious, but it's just murder fantasies. Waste of time. We done? I'm leaving."
"Wait!"
"No."
As he moved to leave, Pitohui clung to him, pleading.
"Please! I'll keep player-killing to games, I swear!"
"No game allows real killing anymore. That promise means nothing—it's obvious. And those 0.5%? They fought, got sick of that world, and cleared the game. No one will share SAO stories with someone like you. You'll never hear them."
"No…"
"Even if you'd played SAO, you'd have been taken out by a mob in a flash."
Shana hit her with harsh truths.
(She's dangerous, unchangeable. Break her, make her think no one will talk, then feed her bits to make her dependent. Revealing my identity might be needed, but only after I've got leverage.)
His dark thoughts were pure self-interest—not justice, but loyalty to Asuna, family, and friends. Unaware, Pitohui hung her head, near tears. Shana delivered the final blow.
"Are you even serious about wanting SAO stories, or is it just curiosity?"
"I'm dead serious! That's the truth!"
"And?"
Prompted, Pitohui steeled herself.
"I'm betting on you."
"Betting what?"
"My private life."
"What's that worth to me?"
"You'll see if we meet."
"Huh?"
"You'll see."
She meant it. Shana smirked inwardly, seeing a chance to control her, but recalled another risk.
"You said you've got common sense, but that's outside your private life, right?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You were beating on Em earlier. Maybe it's a kink, but it looked like you do that at home too."
Pitohui pouted.
"You saw that? After tearing me down, now a lecture?"
"Do what you want, I don't care. Just don't let it burn me."
"Got it. I promise."
Shana stayed silent, waiting. Pitohui blinked, then realized his intent.
"No blowback… You're considering meeting to talk?"
"You come alone. I'll have people watching from afar. They won't approach unless something's up. Can't prove it, so you'll have to trust me."
"I trust you."
She answered instantly, no doubts. Shana saw issues but prioritized his goals.
"Alright, can you meet at a place I pick in two hours?"
"Yeah, I can make it."
"By the way, what's Em to you?"
"Huh? Uh… punching bag? Minion, maybe?"
Shana nodded, making a final point.
"Those types get all righteous, acting for their 'master.' Shake Em's tail for sure."
Pitohui burst out laughing.
Shana's info gives him the upper hand over Pitohui's desperation to know. Man, Shana's ruthless!
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