SAO - A New Matrix

-VII-

[Lisbeth's POV]

This can't be. No way. It's a bad-taste joke.

But the more this so-called Dev of SAO explained, the more uneasy I became. I wasn't alone, people were catching up too.

I don't understand. Just a few minutes ago, I was having a good time with a hot gu-, I mean, a player who taught me the basics of the game. I was nervous at the beginning because he was a Western, and didn't know if he was being serious or making fun of me. I heard Western humor could be cruel sometimes, but luckily this wasn't the case. Not only he was kind, but taught me in simple words how to play optimally. He was quite knowledgeable and showed great expertise against the boars we fought.

Is this what a 'talented gamer' looks like?

Anyway, I risk myself to say we became friends in that more than an hour together. Then, I was teleported here, and all flipped from play for fun to play for survival. Survive for real.

How is that even possible?

At some point, in the middle of the final delivery, the sounds and tossing of flying objects through the giant, who turned into our grim reaper, cut the dread from the environment. Any sound made by the Dev was nullified.

The GM responded with annoyance and instigated the cease of such actions.

And then, I heard HIM. Not with the same tone nor loudness, but I knew him by the accent enough to assess who he was. When I was trying to get a good look by hopping a little, I saw a more unexpected thing: That obscene Western gesture with the middle finger, directed towards our jailor. Like it was nothing. As if it wouldn't mean his dead in the next seconds.

Surprisingly, there wasn't a fatal outcome. Even some players joined him by throwing objects and making THAT GESTURE at the robed floating figure. Not getting the outcome he wanted, the Dev just left.

But even if people weren't walling in despair, the sentiment of anxiety was still among us.

There must be some type of trick...some way to liberate ourselves without responding to the outrageous conditions we were given. A hundred floors until going back to real life? I picked some whispers saying how ridiculous such a demand was. That our bodies will be transported to hospitals across the country will not make us safe: We were just made time bombs.

I must talk with him.

The screams and roars were deafening, yet my focus remain on one subject. I didn't have to navigate in between the crowd too much to find him. We locked eyes.

Neo, please. I-

He looked away. Like if I was nothing.

No. I'm being denied!

Don't leave me! I gesture with my hand as if I was about to reach him, only to end up grabbing nothing but air.

He was gone in seconds.

That was the catalyst to make me go down. My body faltered, my butt hitting against the stone floor. My conscience went numb as if I was in a dream...no, a nightmare.

There was a said: To reach true despair, hope must be at the grasp of your hand. Now I know.

I am condemned. All I desired was a simple escape, a chance to engage in some lighthearted play, and perhaps to immerse myself in the intricacies of the blacksmithing system within Sword Art Online. I envisioned a playthrough where I was not defined by my skills or leadership, but rather by the significance I could bring to the players. The thought of being needed, of playing an essential part in this vast virtual world, filled me with hope.

Despite the underlying vanity of my aspirations, I deeply yearned for a place where I felt appreciated. It wasn't just about creating quality gear or achieving high ranks; it was about cultivating relationships, being part of something larger than myself. In this journey, I sought the attention and love that eluded me outside these virtual confines.

I just want to find something real...even if it's located in a virtual world, ironic as it is.

That's why I almost killed myself in line for 3 days of camping to get a copy of the most expected VRMMORPG ever created. Even if the wait was long, the investment will pay off in the end.

Everything is gone now.

I don't know how to start nor who to seek. My world is a raft drifting away. I'm done just after crossing the starting line.

Amid my mind breakdown, I felt a pull on my shoulder. Were the people going even more crazy? Is it time to sack and destroy everything? I didn't mind. There was nothing more disheartened than knowing that your days are counted.

I felt it again, the pull, but refused to even acknowledge it. If am not mistaken, any 18 actions –touchy actions in general– against other players will be met with severe punishment. Since this is a death game, I can't help but wonder what's the maximum penalty if they can't be banned from the servers anymore...I think.

The pull became a grab...of my right hand. It was a kind grip that invited no ill will, which was wrong because I don't know anyone...the one I knew left me in the dust.

Whoever is this person, I can guess is a man of course, is very daring. Or a mere pervert. My sight didn't meet anything that wasn't the ground, like a broken toy that couldn't move the head, but my feet let themselves be guided by the dragging of my hand.

If this person thinks I will let myself get used along these lines, what is coming in return will greatly dissatisfy him.

We traveled across various alleys until reaching what might as well be a 'private place'. We enter through a double swinging wood door, reaching a high bar stool where I instinctively sit.

Trying to discuss a price for my body?

He was babbling some nonsense I didn't care.

I had accumulated enough «Warnings» to send him on a one-way ticket to the cruelest punishment possible. It might be seen as I'm taking it out on him, but one scumbag less in the streets will be a fine service for the female players.

I was about to reach the «Penalize» option on my interface when a particular scent touched my nose. The familiarity of that smell pulled me back to my surroundings.

A big wooden mug with a purple liquid was sitting in the front.