Chapter 192: Lighting a Damp Match, and the Wolf Pack Grows

Even NPC AI from the era before ShanFro had achieved a considerable level of development. Of course, they didn't have the sheer precision of ShanFro, where an NPC could smoothly transition a conversation from the weather to what they had for dinner last night, and then flawlessly answer a sudden question like "By the way, what was the monster we're about to fight again?" without displaying even a hint of AI-like stiffness.
But even so, as long as it was just picking up the general meaning from specific keywords or the player's phrasing and returning a relevant response, they could handle that much perfectly fine. There are certainly games out there that can't even manage that, but that's beside the point right now.

"Do you understand the meaning behind an Ammo-Knight... no, behind a monster possessing this sword?"

"Huh...?"

And as technology advanced and AI acquired superior intelligence, certain types of players began to get incredibly lively.
Precisely because the AI was so advanced, and precisely because they were ultimately just AI that could be manipulated as much as you wanted, there was once a guy in a certain game who successfully treated a King and a Princess as literal trap components with their full consent.

"I'm asking if you understand."

"I-I understand... I know! It means Papa died here!!"

NPCs are people who aren't people; entities stripped of all complex, bizarre human nature until only a simple "Personality Trait" remains. Entities that do not and cannot possess any information beyond what is written in their script.
A villain will always be a villain no matter what, and the backstory of the old man who dies in the early game won't even qualify as a MacGuffin.

According to him, NPCs are "simple keyholes." As long as you use the proper tools, picking the lock is easy, and in order to manipulate an NPC whose character elements are predetermined, selecting the right tool is paramount.

"No good, you don't understand a single thing."

"Huh...? Wh-What are you talking about!"

"Listen up, you bed-wetting brat."

"I didn't wet the bed!"

You're just being protected by game expression rules, if this was real you absolutely would have pissed yourself by now, be honest.
Well, whatever. The target is a "Child whose spirit is broken by fear." The clear condition is "Inspire him." And the Tools necessary to achieve that are... the "Great Father" and the "Subordinates Left Behind."

"Listen well. In this city of Ruluiath, aside from the massive horde of rotten fishballs, there are four monsters. The one holding this sword was one of them, and fundamentally, they never step foot outside the towers located at the four corners of the city."

"S-So what...?"

That guy—Pencilgon—would use "Lies" in a situation like this. Strictly speaking, it'd be more accurate to say she also uses lies, but what I use is "Deduction."
In his case, it's terrifying how she layers lie upon lie until ultimately, like flipping a whole row in Othello, she turns it all into the truth. As if I could ever imitate that.

"Your old man died fighting. And he was the one who went out to challenge it, too."

"...!"

"You at least understand what that means, right? Keeping that in mind, I'm going to ask you: what the hell are you doing in a place like this?"

Nice, nice, the role-playing is going great. I'm practically an expert at buttering up NPCs; I even managed to successfully persuade Vysache, who's most likely a Unique Monster. Do you really think a single shitty brat can resist my persuasion techniques...?

"Your father fought. Well, considering he died there, I guess he wasn't all that strong... Ah, don't glare at me, the story isn't over yet."

I mercilessly use the end result as a whip to strike him, and the process that led up to it as a candy to feed him. Dead men tell no tales, so I'll be using both the cutlass and his death without any hesitation.

"When all is said and done, everyone understands their own strength the best. Your old man surely knew his limits too. But even so, he challenged the Ammo-Knight. And as for why... you know the reason, right?"

"That's... because..."

"It's you. No, not just you. He gripped his cutlass not for this ocean floor, but for the subordinates waiting for him back in that dim, beloved Ruffian Street of Fifticia. People call that 'Resolve', and they revere it."

"Resolve..."

"Ironically, you've ended up following the exact same path as your old man. But it's a child's duty to surpass their parent. So what should you do? Cower under a bed? No, that's wrong. You need to harden your resolve and move forward."

"Move... forward..."

"Are you scared of walking through the dark? Well what a coincidence, planting torches in the darkness and moving forward for the sake of those who follow is the job description of us 'Pioneers'. If you need a guide, I'll take the job, yeah?"

I condense my entire being into a highly directional 'Read the Room' aura and project it purely through willpower toward Rust and Mold. It seems the message got across, because despite their slightly lacking ad-libbing skills, the two of them back up my words.

"Y-Yeah! You've got reliable allies right here besides us, you know!"

"...Either way, we have to fight to get out of here. One extra kid tagging along isn't a big deal."

"Don't call me... a kid..."

You damp match bastard, are you seriously still not catching fire? No, I played my role as perfectly as humanly possible, so all I can do now is let time solve the rest.

"We're storming the landlord of this god-awful city in two days. You better find your own resolve by then."

With those parting words, I exited the house with Emul still on my head... by climbing out through a hole in the roof.

The ending was incredibly lame!!

"...So, what do we do now?"

"Ideally I'd like to proceed with the Sealed General subjugation just like we originally planned, but honestly, leaving the other players out of it feels kinda..."

There's the matter of boss drops and all that, so balancing the interests of everyone involved is important. That being said, doing absolutely nothing would just leave us completely bored, so...

"Ah, what about gathering materials?"

"We've probably gathered almost a gross of drop items by now..."

"A gross?"

"A dozen dozens."

"144 items... Won't that overflow your inventory?"

"Well you see, I did a little something-something to sort that out."

"Something-something."

Praise be to Inventoria; honestly, I'm more grateful for this than any powerful weapon or armor. It's so obscenely convenient that even if the devs patched it later I'd probably just accept it.
The fact that it's an unlimited inventory where you don't even have to consider weight is already broken, but it's also incredibly useful as an escape method. After all, as long as you secure the bare minimum MP required, there isn't even a limit on how many times you can use it.

"Ah, that's right. Rust, how about that place?"

"That place... Ah, true, I did want to drop by there at least once."

I urge her to continue with my gaze and presence. Sounds like she's sitting on some pretty interesting information, doesn't it?

"This is really, how do I put it... just simply amazing."

"It's exactly like something straight out of a painting, isn't it."

On the outskirts of Ruluiath, in a place that was probably originally a sandy beach, lay a massive amount of shipwreck debris.
When Rust and Mold were previously surveying the area, they were attacked by Fishmen halfway through and had to abandon it... It was basically a mountain of gold, silver, treasure, and treasure chests piled up in a completely mindless fashion, and the incredibly tacky, blindingly glittering light welcomed me as the two of them guided me to it.

"Just one piece of this looks like it'd sell for a pretty penny."

"We figured we might as well recover as much of it as we can."

"You sure? Letting me get in on the profits too?"

"Well, inventory-wise we can't carry everything anyway."

Well, true, that would be the case for normal players, but... on that front, I have Inventoria.
Whoever piled it all up, the treasure stacked inside one of the rooms of a grounded galleon looks like it holds enough money power to build a small-scale castle if we cashed it all in.
Taking absolutely all of it is a bit... no, but then again, leaving any behind would be an insult to the items themselves... Hmmm... Ah, right.

"Come to think of it, I completely forgot to ask. You two are currently free agents, right?"

"Free agents?"

"You aren't affiliated with any Clan, right?"

"That's right."

Let's see... I already talked to those fiends during the celebration party regarding various matters. Just recalling that time makes the memories I had forcefully sealed away threaten to overflow in a chain reaction, so I better put the lid back on... Ugh, chugging lemon squash out of a beer mug... The root vegetable carnival... No, I must stay strong.

"Well you see, considering the matter with the robots too, I was wondering if you guys wanted to join our Clan."

"...If there are quotas or anything like that, no thank you."

"Ah, we don't have anything like that. Basically, we share the same affiliation and we don't even have a base."

I still owe them for providing the Unique Scenario that led to Ctarrnid, and being in the same Clan would make handling all of that much more convenient.

"I explained this before, but us three current members of 'Wolfgang' co-own a robot. And from what I've heard, apparently we can register it as Clan Property."

"...So you're saying if we join this Wolfgang thing..."

Time for the final push. I'll summon the four Tactical Machine Beasts right here, right now!

"Handling these guys won't be an issue—"

Baki-baki-gusha-beki-zudooooon!!

"........."

"........."

"........."

Yeah, if you really think about it, of course summoning machinery larger than human-size inside a rotten, moldy ship like this would smash right through the floorboards and plummet.

"Crap!!?"

"Th-The robots...!"

"Making this much noise is going to attract the Fishmen!?"

"Actually, I can already hear them approaching desu wa!!"

"Dammit, I'll recover the robots later! I'm taking every last piece of this treasure!!"

Being considerate to others? Shut up! You only have time for that when you actually have the bare minimum leeway for yourself!!
Money, I need money! Repairing and upgrading the weapons I have right now costs money!!
Especially the repair costs for Togetsu and the Gilta-Brill...

"Good evening! So you guys were all here! ...Wait, you all look incredibly exhausted, what happened!?"

"Well, we had a bit of a Great Ruluiath Marathon..."

"I'm not the best at long-distance running, but I can manage around 2500!"

"Sunraku idiot, complete idiot."

Man, I have no face left to show... Ah, right.

"Akitsu Akane, are you currently in a Clan? If you aren't, are you interested in joining ours?"

"Wow, this is my first time being invited to a Clan! I'd love to!!"

Instant decision, huh.

Author's Afterword
Suzaku: "Hello, I'm Suzaku. I excel at flight capabilities and surprise attacks using heat swords, gwaaaaahh!?"
Seiryu: "Hello, I'm Seiryu. My activation itself was technically the very first, gwaaaaahh!?"
Genbu: "I was the heaviest weight class right from the start so gwaaaaahh!?"
Byakko: "I literally hadn't even been mentioned a single time up until now, gwaaaaahh!?"