Mebius World Online – Mari’s VRMMO Diary, Embarking on a Laid-back Adventure as a Novice - Chapter 56
56. Mari-nee and a certain seamstress’s monologue (Part 2)
“Is this… a game?”
It seemed like the circlet-shaped device was meant for full diving into a VR space.
And the software titled ‘Mebius World Online.’
When I searched further with the new smartphone I bought, the official website mentioned it was in beta testing, with a recruitment ratio of 50 times the applicants.
Although I wasn’t particularly interested in games, the high demand for this one made me curious about its quality, even if the genre was different, I pretended.
Honestly, I was slightly hopeful that, as advertised on the official website, I might be able to forget reality, even if only for a moment.
Wearing the circlet and starting the software, I instantly dived into the world of Mebius World Online.
The name I chose for my first character creation was Valeria.
The inspiration for the name came from the protagonist of a light novel my father liked when he was a child.
However, since it was originally a male name, I changed it to a female one.
I chose the job of a martial artist.
Having practiced Aikido since childhood and attended a kickboxing gym as an adult to maintain my physique, I had no doubts.
As character creation ended and I finally transitioned into the world of Mebius World Online, there, sensations and nature were reproduced just like reality, yet there were unreal scenes beyond reality, and indeed, a reality beyond reality existed.
Everything I touched felt fresh.
Fighting monsters and defeating them seemed exhilarating.
I quickly became engrossed in seeing myself grow stronger both numerically and visibly in battles.
Additionally, in the world of Mebius World Online, there were materials that didn’t exist in reality, and it was very enjoyable to make clothes using those materials in ways that were impossible in reality.
And the clothes I made were well received by other players, which fueled my creative enthusiasm.
It was completely opposite to reality.
In reality, I struggled with designs, and even when I worked desperately, the feedback was not favorable.
But here, it was so appreciated.
Blessed with companions who enjoyed the same production, it became increasingly difficult to distance myself from the world of Mebius World Online, and dream-like time passed by.
The cracks in that dream-like time began to show when the existence of a certain monster was confirmed.
The name of that monster was Akki, the Evil Oni.
Among the field bosses, its occurrence frequency and spawning location were irregular, making it treated as a rare boss by players.
While it wasn’t impossible to defeat with multiple parties, it offered large valuable magic stones as rewards, so some players were eager to find it like treasure hunters.
I participated only once, but whether it was good luck or bad, I witnessed the moment when Akki was born.
Its true form, in short, was a soul.
By possessing NPCs, it transformed into Akki.
So, what players had been hunting all this time was…
When I learned this fact, I couldn’t muster the will to fight Akki anymore.
But the other players around me didn’t feel the same.
When defeated, Akki left behind drops and the soul departed.
Then, the departed soul would possess another nearby NPC.
If there were no NPCs nearby, it would wander around until finding one to possess.
That’s why the occurrence frequency and spawning location were irregular, but one player noticed something.
If they brought NPCs nearby beforehand, they could keep defeating Akki in the same location.
They said “bring,” but in reality, it was just abduction.
Perhaps the NPCs’ lack of emotional fluctuations had dulled their resistance to such acts.
“In this case, aren’t we the evil instead…”
My murmurs were swallowed by the noise, unheard by anyone.
As I began to feel anger, I kicked away the player who brought the NPC and fled with them.
The adjustments to my crafted equipment and my real-life experience were not in vain, as there were only a few players who could defeat me one-on-one.
Even though I was outnumbered and overwhelmed, I fled while protecting the NPC.
Eventually, wounded and cornered, and immobilized by a curse from a sorcerer, I fell into the river and lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I saw an unfamiliar ceiling.
“You are awake…”
Beside me was a man who appeared to be in his forties, with long gray hair tied back, wearing glasses, and giving off a slightly gloomy vibe.
In his hand was a thick book, and a white cat perched on his shoulder.
“It’s my familiar. It found you in the river.”
“Thank you for saving me. I’m Valeria. Where is this?”
“It’s a secluded village of hermits, just a nameless village.”
With that, the man fell silent.
Though I had mentioned my name, I thought it odd that he didn’t reciprocate. But as the one who had been helped, I kept silent.
Moreover, there didn’t seem to be any sense of rejection, at least not overtly.
Perhaps it was because I had been specifically helped, but it felt more intuitive than that.
This feeling seemed to simply dislike wastefulness.
Wasteful actions, wasteful words, wasteful thoughts.
He glanced at me only for a moment when I woke up.
After that, he returned his gaze to his book, never looking at me again.
The act of saving me and the disdain for wastefulness seemed contradictory, but perhaps it was because his familiar was bothering him that he reluctantly helped.
I regained my composure and checked the map, realizing I was quite far from the second area.
Since I hadn’t found any means of transportation yet, I would have to walk quite a distance to return to town.
No, perhaps respawning would be faster.
That’s when it happened.
“Grrrrr.”
My stomach growled loudly.
It seemed quite some time had passed since I had fought with the player, as my hunger gauge had dropped significantly.
But I wanted to tell the creators of this game something: they didn’t need to replicate everything, even stomach noises!
As I blushed with embarrassment, the man closed his book with a pat, then left for somewhere, returning shortly with a wooden bowl of soup and a wooden spoon, placing them in front of me.
Then, he returned to the world of his book.
Was this his way of telling me to eat?
I glanced at him briefly, but he showed no response anymore.
“…Thank you for the meal.”
I expressed my gratitude with clasped hands and began to sip the soup that had been prepared.
It was lukewarm, with roughly chopped vegetables, and tasted bland.
To put it kindly, it wasn’t delicious.
But in this quiet space with him and his familiar, strangely, it felt like there couldn’t be a more suitable soup for the moment.
With my hunger satisfied and my ability to move restored, I decided to explore the village.
The village was quietly nestled in a clearing among the trees.
There were about twenty residents, most of whom were elderly.
The man seemed to be the youngest in the village.
The village, crafted to blend naturally with its surroundings, was devoid of human-made atmosphere.
The rustling of leaves touching each other, the sound of the nearby flowing river, and the occasional chirping of birds.
Wrapped in such sounds, time passed quietly, almost as if it had stopped.
It was the primitive scenery of human activity.
A nostalgia I had never felt even in my hometown.
It felt like it accepted the part of me that sought escape through illusion and the part of me that struggled in reality, just as they were.
Like the nurturing earth that fosters strength.
Like the deep sea that embraces with kindness.
Like the vast, free sky.
Before I knew it, warm tears were streaming down my cheeks…
For a while after that, I stayed in that nameless village.
The man told me I could use any sleeping space as I liked, so I continued to use the one I had been given.
In return, I helped with the farming, went hunting, and cooked meals.
Although cooking wasn’t my forte, the man ate the meals I prepared without saying a word.
He remained as reserved as ever, neither praising nor criticizing the taste, but he never left anything uneaten.
So I said nothing either.
Even without words, I could understand something from his small gestures.
When he slightly raised his right eyebrow, he was satisfied.
When the corner of his left mouth drooped, he was enduring something.
Such wordless exchanges felt comforting to me now.
I wished for this time to continue forever.
But the future where such modest wishes would come true never arrived…