«Timberwolf».
In bright and distinctive font, that ID tag written in English hovered ominously over the head of the menacing creature standing before me. Really, it was common for games to have enemy mobs with English names despite the player demographic being primarily Japanese ever since SAO— but I seriously found myself wondering if that name would have looked any better written in katakana[1]. Something that the developers would have to discuss amongst themselves, I suppose.
My eyes hovered to it's level just below it's ID. A number that, once upon a time, would have struck absolute fear into my heart
«LVL 43».
As the four-legged enemy mob reared itself, I recognized and predicted it's next movements despite never having fought this enemy in any other game.
No— I couldn't quite say that. It's true that this specific mob had never appeared in SAO, but it wouldn't be a lie to say that I had fought countless monsters similar to this one in almost every game I've ever played.. including the ones that were not Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games (VRMMORPGs), but in all those computer games where my opponent was a wolf-like creature.
The position the «Timberwolf» held was undoubtedly one of a preemptive attack. It's joints, while seeming to be composed of nothing but twigs and sticks of various shapes and sizes, looked locked and loaded like a menacing spring-trap.
A low, surprisingly deep growl came from it's bared teeth (which were also, coincidentally, wooden), as if to wordlessly tell me that I was in for a world of hurt.
"Haa.."
I let out a quiet sigh in reply as my eyes fell shut, and I let my body relax and my grip tighten on the «Standard Iron Sword» I'd equipped from my inventory upon booting the game. It's weight was comparable to that of a broom or an equally as large wooden pole— much too light, in my opinion. I was partial to heavier blades, ones that packed some deadly weight in addition to their sharpness— but the developers of this weapon had kept in mind that it would be used, most likely, by inexperienced beginners.
The «Timberwolf» scraped the ground impatiently and rushed towards me with reckless abandon. Though my eyes were still shut, I could tell it's every movement just from the sound of it's feet against the dirt, it's ragged breath piercing the chilled air around us.
Well, despite all my initial griping about using a newbie weapon, there was no doubt that the sensation of holding a sword in my hands was a familiar, comfortable one.
A monster charging at me with the intent to kill - that also was familiar to me.
Okay..
My eyes flew open as I steadied my body, posing my body and the sword accordingly. Despite this being a different world, my stats still carried over with my avatar— thus, there was no reason I wouldn't be able to pull off this move, my «One-Handed Sword» proficiency level having pushed past (150/1000) a good amount of time prior.
—Well, I actually maxed it out whilst playing Alfheim Online, another VRMMOPRG.
As expected, the «Standard Iron Sword» in my right hand glowed a bright, sky blue as my body was automatically carried forwards by the system, which had recognized and responded to my «Pre-Motion» for what would happen next.
The «Timberwolf» was close, enough so that I could reach out and touch it with my hands if I so desired. As the distance between it and me drew dangerously close, I sidestepped it's frontal assault and the system guided my next movements, assisting me in executing an attack with speed I would never be able to achieve on my own.
"—Haa!"
I yelled out as the first hit of this skill viciously sliced the «Timberwolf» in front of me— a horizontal swing from left to right— followed by another horizontal swing from right to left. Bright red polygons of light scattered instead of blood. Immediately after, my body spun in a full circle and unleashed a third horizontal strike from right to left, from which the blade in my hand would suddenly upwards and cut deeply into the «Timberwolf» once more. A two-dimensional sky blue rhombus, drawn by my sword, flashed and then scattered until it was naught but pixels in the air.
This was «Horizontal Square», a 4-hit consecutive «Sword Skill» and a personal favorite of mine. The system had recognized my earlier mentioned «Pre-Motion» to the skill, and responded by guiding my avatar's body and blade at a speed normally impossible for a player to achieve on their own, dealing far more damage than if I were to simply swing wildly with my weapon.
The clear light from the rhombus my skill drew shone strongly in the dark of the forest— then faded. At the same time, the HP bar above the «Timberwolf», which I had brought down to about a third of it's health prior, dropped mercilessly to zero without even a single pixel left. The huge body fell sideways, roaring in pain before it halted awkwardly— then, with a sound similar to breaking glass, it broke into infinite polygons and vanished.
The «Post-Motion» of this skill kept me suspended in place for a few seconds, a natural response induced by the system in response to my high-level sword skill which would leave me vulnerable to attacks by mobs or other players. However, a moment had passed and my opponent - that is, the empty air the «Timberwolf» had once occupied - did nothing more than tousle my hair in reply as the system released my body. An icon in the bottom corner of my vision indicated that I wouldn't be able to use «Horizontal Square» for a period of time, the skill having gone into it's «Cooling» phase.
I sheathed the «Standard Iron Sword» in a cheap looking leather scabbard strapped to my back as I let out a self-satisfied sigh, now 100% sure that the function of Sword Skills and in-game combat was fully operational.
This world, like many other VR games borne of «The Seed», was capable of supporting the combat system from the original «Sword Art Online». I didn't know exactly what the developers of this game intended to do with that system in a game like this one, where the both the art style and graphical quality of my immediate surroundings were.. a little less than you would have expected of a VRMMO.
I stood in a dark clearing, obviously stationed in the midst of what appeared to be a wild, wooded area. Dark, looming trees grew in dense batches all around, and the sky above me was a foreboding shade of purple with no stars to be seen.
When I had first logged in a few days prior, the ID for the spawn area was assigned [EVERFREE FOREST], indicating that I was indeed in some sort of woods. The simple cel-shaded style of the grass, dirt, trees, various plants, and even the sky above reminded me irresistibly of a certain television show that had picked up steam in the past few months among the otaku crowd here in Japan. It seemed that it was a very slow-to-die series, it's 10th season having been recently re-broadcasted on T.V.
That is to say, it was something my sister Suguha was vaguely interested in because it was "cute," but didn't strike any curiosity into me upon my first hearing of it.
However, despite the subtle - no, the absolute dreariness of my setting, I actually found that this cartoon-like world was sort of a relief from the usual gritty and realistic environment enthusiastically reproduced by many game developers today.
Notwithstanding the strange need to implement sword skills into this game, perhaps this storybook-esque setting would make for a VR game geared, for the first time, towards a younger audience.
At least, this is what I had hoped before testing the combat system, which involved enemy mobs that I'm sure would frighten any potential child players more than it would excite them.
That «Timberwolf» in particular, which was roughly size of a standard pick-up truck if not larger, had not only it's imposing height but also it's vague hideousness going for it. The design of that enemy, with it's dull green eyes and dark, gritty appearance, was an unnerving mixture of unrealistic and sinister. Really, I had only fought with it because it posed more of a challenge than some of the other mobs I had encountered in this area.
Coincidentally, among those mobs were these somewhat cute creatures with the name «Parasprite» that must have been this world's rough equivalent to a "Slime" mob, being low-level and a little too easy to kill. In fact, it felt a little disquieting to hunt them. Perhaps the sensation could be compared to slashing your sword at a puppy or plush toy.
I sighed and shook these irrelevant thoughts from my mind.
I had spent the better part of a week beta-testing this game, ensuring that every single option and action allowed to the player was functional. At the end of each day, when I logged out, a digital report would be forwarded to the developers. This included material harvesting, object physics, menu functionality, environment response, pain absorption, and a multitude of other things.
The result of my painstaking and tedious efforts? Well, I couldn't draw any conclusion as to what kind of game this was meant to be, besides the fact that it seemed to be working just fine.
With those thoughts, I made a fist with my right hand, extended my index and middle finger, and drew an invisible line in front of me. This summoned the the main menu— the primary means of accessing a your items, maps, skills, and inventory— which appeared to me in the form of a thin, chest-height GUI (Graphical User Interface). I scrolled down the sidebar to the right until I reached the Settings, indicated by a gear icon. A few sub-menus appeared as I tapped on it: they were «OPTIONS», «HELP» (which would call a GM), and..
—there it was. «LOG OUT».
I know it was a pretty stupid thing to feel, but on many occasions, I marveled at the sheer simplicity of logging out of a game. A simple tap, an electronic jingle, and the console would eject you from this world into reality. It was so simple. I think I even spent a few moments just logging in and out of «ALO» on some days while savoring the sensation of exiting the game— a privilege I and many others longed for more than anything else back in the SAO days.
Even now, standing here after a couple of days of logging in and out of this game, my eyes still fondly surveyed the window asking me if I was sure I wanted to log out of the game, along with the distinctive «YES» and «NO» buttons beneath.
I tapped the latter option and sent the menu away with the flick of my forefinger. My job here wasn't done yet.
After all, there still remained the last item of my checklist, NPC interaction.
I had saved this until last since
References:
[1] A component of the Japanese writing system that is primarily used to transcribe foreign words into Japanese, similar to the use of italics in English. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katakana)
