best player in the city. Hell, most people who played this game did. But this jujutsuka was different, and he knew it. While other characters were practicing their combos, he was searching for secret paths and paying visits to empty saloons.
The jujutsuka stood.
> Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I am Hashimoto, a collector of information.
Hashimoto bent at the waist in a graceful bow.
Leaping lightly over the counter, he took two beer bottles from the shelf behind the bar. He sent one bottle sliding across the bar toward Tetsuo.
> Won’t we get in trouble?
> For what?
> I don’t know, moving around his drinks. The heavyweight bartender won’t get mad?
> Ben is not the bartender.
> He’s not?
> This establishment belongs to no one. Ben only plays the role of bartender, as I am doing now. Role-playing, as it were.
The player controlling Hashimoto, a make-believe character who lived in a make-believe world, was suggesting that his character’s goals and desires were somehow separate from his own. Somewhere in RL, someone was role-playing Hashimoto, a character who himself played the role of a ninja in Sanchōme. It was like opening a Russian matryoshka doll to find another doll nested inside. The only place you could do something like that was online.
Hashimoto tilted his head back and raised the beer to his mouth. Of course no liquid came spilling out of the polygonal bottle, and the texture on Hashimoto’s face never changed. But I still found myself growing thirsty.
The JTS Saloon provided a refuge for characters who didn’t fit in anywhere else in the game, characters who spent their time leaping over paper-thin walls and passing around polygonal glasses of beer.
> This place seems like a pretty well-kept secret. Why tell me how to get here?
> I was preoccupied with more…pressing concerns.
> Like what?
> My whisperers told me Jack might make an appearance. I was standing watch with my eagle eye.
The drunken fist in the skin-tight purple suit had said no one knew more about Jack than Hashimoto. Well, I had found him, and he had sent me on a wild goose chase to the JTS Saloon to learn more about Jack at the very moment he expected Jack to make an entrance.
> You lied to me.
> I misled you. There’s a difference.
> You didn’t think I had a chance against Jack, so you chased me off, is that it?
There was a long pause before he answered. When he finally did, a bubble filled almost to overflowing appeared over his head.
> Not at all. You appeared to be a skilled warrior. Had you fought Jack, his health would have been diminished. You might even have slain him. But my objective is to discover Jack’s true identity. Had you defeated him, it would have complicated things considerably.
> If he really wants to log out, all he has to do is pull out his LAN cable.
> Jack would never employ such measures. He has similar predilections to my own. When Jack defeats a foe, he always logs out using the proper mechanism. I have no doubt of this. It may be that, like me, he changes his textures each time he logs in.
When your health dropped to zero anywhere outside the arena, you were forced to log out. Since player information was kept private, once someone logged out, there was no way to find out who they were. Which is exactly why a roaming mystery ganker could exist in the first place. Unless a sysadmin performed an investigation, the ganker’s identity would remain a mystery forever. But if there was a character role-playing Ganker Jack, as Hashimoto was suggesting, it would be possible to nail down the identity of the ordinary Versus Town citizen who was assuming Jack’s identity at the character management system in Itchōme.
Hashimoto wanted to witness the moment Jack made the transformation back to average citizen for himself.
> Why tell me all this?
> You show great promise. I have heard there is no one in the arena who can defeat you. In time, Jack will
The jujutsuka stood.
> Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I am Hashimoto, a collector of information.
Hashimoto bent at the waist in a graceful bow.
Leaping lightly over the counter, he took two beer bottles from the shelf behind the bar. He sent one bottle sliding across the bar toward Tetsuo.
> Won’t we get in trouble?
> For what?
> I don’t know, moving around his drinks. The heavyweight bartender won’t get mad?
> Ben is not the bartender.
> He’s not?
> This establishment belongs to no one. Ben only plays the role of bartender, as I am doing now. Role-playing, as it were.
The player controlling Hashimoto, a make-believe character who lived in a make-believe world, was suggesting that his character’s goals and desires were somehow separate from his own. Somewhere in RL, someone was role-playing Hashimoto, a character who himself played the role of a ninja in Sanchōme. It was like opening a Russian matryoshka doll to find another doll nested inside. The only place you could do something like that was online.
Hashimoto tilted his head back and raised the beer to his mouth. Of course no liquid came spilling out of the polygonal bottle, and the texture on Hashimoto’s face never changed. But I still found myself growing thirsty.
The JTS Saloon provided a refuge for characters who didn’t fit in anywhere else in the game, characters who spent their time leaping over paper-thin walls and passing around polygonal glasses of beer.
> This place seems like a pretty well-kept secret. Why tell me how to get here?
> I was preoccupied with more…pressing concerns.
> Like what?
> My whisperers told me Jack might make an appearance. I was standing watch with my eagle eye.
The drunken fist in the skin-tight purple suit had said no one knew more about Jack than Hashimoto. Well, I had found him, and he had sent me on a wild goose chase to the JTS Saloon to learn more about Jack at the very moment he expected Jack to make an entrance.
> You lied to me.
> I misled you. There’s a difference.
> You didn’t think I had a chance against Jack, so you chased me off, is that it?
There was a long pause before he answered. When he finally did, a bubble filled almost to overflowing appeared over his head.
> Not at all. You appeared to be a skilled warrior. Had you fought Jack, his health would have been diminished. You might even have slain him. But my objective is to discover Jack’s true identity. Had you defeated him, it would have complicated things considerably.
> If he really wants to log out, all he has to do is pull out his LAN cable.
> Jack would never employ such measures. He has similar predilections to my own. When Jack defeats a foe, he always logs out using the proper mechanism. I have no doubt of this. It may be that, like me, he changes his textures each time he logs in.
When your health dropped to zero anywhere outside the arena, you were forced to log out. Since player information was kept private, once someone logged out, there was no way to find out who they were. Which is exactly why a roaming mystery ganker could exist in the first place. Unless a sysadmin performed an investigation, the ganker’s identity would remain a mystery forever. But if there was a character role-playing Ganker Jack, as Hashimoto was suggesting, it would be possible to nail down the identity of the ordinary Versus Town citizen who was assuming Jack’s identity at the character management system in Itchōme.
Hashimoto wanted to witness the moment Jack made the transformation back to average citizen for himself.
> Why tell me all this?
> You show great promise. I have heard there is no one in the arena who can defeat you. In time, Jack will
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