Before SAO, Grandpa was my idol. But when I killed my first player—a human—in SAO, I realized I could never be like him.
Grandpa killed to eat. But in SAO, I actively hunted players, draining their HP to zero, killing them. My targets were always vile orange or red players who didn't value life, but my methods escalated. I started enjoying PKK.
Back in reality, facing my family who knew everything I did in SAO, I couldn't speak. Mom cried, overjoyed I'd returned alive. Dad didn't blame me, probably thinking the death game's madness broke his son. I wanted to believe that, too.
But Grandpa was different. In his usual kind voice, he said:
"Sorry, Kagari. Your blood's thicker than mine. You're Yatsume-sama herself—a beautiful being who hunts, takes, devours, and is feared."
His eyes held neither the spider-like gaze of a hunter nor the kindness of a grandfather, but awe and reverence for a monstrous god.
The Grandpa I knew was gone, changed by how I'd changed.
"That's why I hate my face…"
It's bad enough I look feminine, but Grandpa saw Yatsume-sama in me—a goddess always appearing as a beauty. After clearing SAO, I hated my face three times more, freaking out in the hospital and scarring it. I wanted a rugged scar, but a skilled doctor fixed it perfectly, which sucked.
"More importantly, was everything okay while I was out? No monster attacks?"
There's no time to sleep so casually. Looking around, I realize we're not in the dungeon.
Wooden furniture, an old dresser, a cloudy mirror, a swaying ceiling lamp—classic inn decor. I'm lying on the softest bed I've ever felt in DBO.
Seeing my confusion, Shinon hesitantly explains.
"While you were out, we ran into a party that helped us escape. In exchange, we shared map data."
"It's a temporary safe zone, but in DBO, you never know what traps await. Their offer seemed reasonable."
…That's risky. I swallow my words. DBO encourages PK. Trusting other players blindly breaks a cardinal rule. Yet these two accepted help from a party we met in a dungeon.
But I'm the reason we were in that mess, so I can't complain. My caution's probably excessive, anyway. Refusing to trust or cooperate with others is impossible and reckless for clearing the game.
Meeting other players here isn't a bad idea. Besides, they saved us from a death trap—they're not likely PKers.
"You're awake!"
As I'm lost in thought, the door swings open, and a burly, bearded man in his late thirties enters, exuding a friendly vibe.
He's like a bear. Fittingly, his player name is Grizzly. Seems he's self-aware.
"This is Grizzly. He carried you."
"Tch… thanks."
My social anxiety kicks in hard. First meetings are terrifying, okay?
Grizzly sits heavily, nearly breaking the chair, and flashes a warm smile. Yeah, he's no villain. He's the type who'd get PK'd by one. Unless he's a master actor, which would be bad.
Wary, I confirm my claw hook's equipped. I've got a level 1 paralysis drug set. If needed, I'll blind him with the blanket, then backstab.
"Hahaha! No need to be on guard! This is a safe zone. Relax!"
Sensing my tension, Grizzly slaps my shoulder. It hurts like hell. This guy's definitely STR-heavy.
Wait, did he just say something wild?
"S-safe zone? What's that supposed to mean?!"
"I'll explain," Shinon says. "This is Grizzly's party's home base in the crumbling town. 'Player-owned properties' are safe zones—the first confirmed player relief in DBO."
Her lips curl in disbelief as she speaks. Understandable—I can't wrap my head around it either.
Grizzly thumps his chest, daring me to hit him. With clear intent, I swing a fist strong enough to chunk his HP.
When it lands, a purple effect appears—attack nullification.
"It's… really a safe zone? This isn't a dream?"
Slumping, Grizzly nods firmly and grips my hand. His warmth feels strangely real for a virtual world, something I took for granted in SAO.
"It's no dream. A girl like you doesn't have to fight anymore. Our party, ZOO, will keep you safe!"
So their party's named ZOO? Are all their names animals?
No, wait, that's not the point. He said something critical.
"What did you just say?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. We talked with our leader, and we'll take you under our wing. Our leader's a teacher IRL, so…"
"Not that."
I glare past Grizzly at Diavel and Shinon.
"Hmm, this blend's off. What do you think, Shinon?"
"This one's closer to coffee's aroma. Maybe use it as a base?"
Diavel sips coffee across the table, completely ignoring me.
Did they not have a chance to tell him, or did they choose not to? Either way, I know what I need to do. This is a safe zone—no one dies no matter how much I attack.
"Well, my daughter's about your age, and I couldn't just leave you…"
"Oh? How old is she?"
"Fourteen this year. She's adorable, takes after my wife. Though, no parental bias, you might be cuter… just kidding!"
Got it.
So I look like a fourteen-year-old…
"Girl, huh?!"
"Huh? You're not?"
Grizzly's innocent, baffled expression—like I just said red lights mean "go"—snaps something in me.
My earlier punch was 50% intent. Now, with 130% murderous rage, I land a glorious uppercut. A flashy purple effect and hit sound ring out as Grizzly staggers back. I follow with a jumping knee strike.
"Guho?!"
"Why does everyone in this damn DBO game keep digging into my trauma?!"
My flurry of blows sends Grizzly crashing into the wall. Diavel and Shinon look away, but I'll deal with them later after getting answers.
I pummel Grizzly until my stamina's drained, then flash him a fake, cat-like smile. To him, even that seems terrifying.
"Here's who I am."
I send Grizzly my profile data.
Reading it, his face pales, lips trembling.
"N-nineteen… male?"
"Yup. I'm Kuuri, a bona fide Japanese man. Call me a girl again, and when we're back in reality, I'll rip your balls off in front of your daughter. Got it, punk?"
"…U-understood."
What a mess. Sighing, I brush back my bangs and glare at my reflection in the mirror.
If my ancestors came from Yatsume-sama, does that make my appearance hers?
No, that's not it. I take after Mom, don't I?
----------------------------
Regrettable Notice
Don't expect Kuuri to suddenly unleash divine powers and conquer the death game.
Not happening.
Not at all.
Not a shred.
We'll diligently deliver despair, anguish, and terror to players before their inevitable deaths.
Please understand.