An NPC Returns the Favor

My alarm began to ring.

Without getting up, I fumbled around near my pillow to turn it off.

My eyelids were heavy from yesterday's late-night gaming session. I lay there, lost in thought.

I felt something on my stomach. It was a soft, warm weight.

Huh? What? I opened my eyes.

Good morning, Lord Kyohei.

Straddling me was a slave elf, clad in lingerie adorned with frilly lace.

This was Ino. It was a long story, but she was originally a non-player character, or NPC, from my game.

As a slave, she also wore a collar meant for restraint.

As an elf, her long, pointed ears peeked out from her silky, golden hair.

Her age was a mystery. When asked, she would only evade the question.

Elves are a long-lived species. Our sense of age differs from humans.

Visually, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties, essentially an adult woman. I was still a growing high schooler, so she was also noticeably taller than me.

And this morning, I woke up to her straddling me.

Lord Kyohei—that's me, Kyohei Nezu—froze up.

What are you doing?

Ino sadly lowered her ears and responded with a disheartened look.

Ino is such a poor slave.

Her downcast expression was fragile. It made a man want to protect her.

I have always been mindful to be ready for whatever my lord desires, even wearing my finest lingerie every day.

The sensation of her butt and thighs rubbing against me, along with the swaying of her breasts accompanied by the dangling chain from her collar, well, she claimed all of her belonged to me. It drove me absolutely wild, but . . .

Despite this, my lord does not desire me!

Yeah, I guess not.

I nodded with a dispassionate gaze at her painful lament. Despite her daily advances, I kept our relationship from crossing that line.

Boys at my lord's age are lustful creatures. Anything from a girl's underwear to the smooth surface of a wooden desk can set them off!

Could you not talk about people as if they're sex-crazed beasts? You owe an apology to me and every other guy my age!

Right now, inside your loins, an overwhelming sexual desire must be stirring furiously. It must be so hard for my lord. Yet he still will not embrace me. Am I less than a piece of wood?

I've never had this much trouble with a piece of wood, so in that sense, you kind of are.

Oh, I knew it! I am indeed a bad slave. But the other day, I finally realized something.

What?

No matter how poor a slave I am, whenever my lord wakes up, he is always ready for battle.

Ino cast a sultry glance toward the vicinity of my groin.

Now I can service you regardless of your will! Using the secret techniques passed down from the elf village, I shall unleash that pent-up sexual desire like a cataclysmic eruption! Let me begin!

I told you, it's not like that! And your forcefulness is terrifying! There's no way I’m letting you do that!

I pushed her away and got up as she tried to pull off my blanket.

She rolled off the bed.

Oh, my.

These exchanges left me exhausted every single time.

When Ino was quiet, she was really beautiful, sexy, sophisticated, obedient, hardworking, just the best. But she was so out of touch with the world. She was so opinionated, pushy, reckless, and stupid that all her good points were overshadowed. So I didn't feel the desire to cross that line. Or rather, I wouldn't.

Oh, crap. I’m gonna be late for school.

I didn't have time for this. I needed to get ready.

As I was about to leave my room, Ino hurriedly changed into her slave outfit.

Oh, rest assured, my lord. I have already devised a plan.

What is it?

If your school were gone, you wouldn’t need to worry about time.

Despite her living out of the game world for a while, she and I still had conversations that didn't quite mesh. "If my school was gone." Yeah, right.

Feeling slightly uneasy, I washed my face and brushed my teeth.

I turned on the TV to check the news and what I saw made me freeze and drop the toothbrush from my mouth.

It was an aerial shot from a helicopter; apparently a live broadcast. An intense report from a female reporter was in progress.

Originally, this place was Kawagoe West High School, but you're not going to believe this! The entire school building has been swallowed up by a strange plant!

It was a very strange plant indeed.

It covered the school building like ivy over a house, with each vine as thick as a tug-of-war rope and writhing like a snake. It even had mouths like Venus flytraps, snapping open and closed like hungry hatchlings.

It looked exactly like a monster straight out of a game. In fact, I recognized this monster. It was a venomous plant known as a man-eating tree

And I just so happened to know someone capable of summoning in-game monsters into the real world.

Hey, just asking, but did you do this?

Yes. Last night, I planted a man-eating tree sapling.

Far from showing any remorse, she had a smug look on her face.

Several students and teachers who approached out of curiosity have reportedly been eaten, causing a stir at the scene. It might be a new species of carnivorous plant!

Nooooo, there are victims? What have you done?

Yes. They will be noble sacrifices to promote the growth of the man-eating tree. These nameless background characters have served a greater purpose for my lord. They must be crying tears of joy while they soak in digestive fluids.

Oh, they're definitely crying, alright! I told you to stop treating real people like background characters! And what do you mean they served their purpose for me? What are you even talking about?

What is my lord so worried about? Was he not grumbling last night while playing his game about not wanting to go to school tomorrow? In fact, he said, and forgive my insolence for quoting him directly, "I kinda wish it'd just go away."

Her words made me think back for a moment.

It was true that I made a few thoughtless remarks last night.

It is my duty as my lord's slave to arrange his life so that he may live according to his wishes. Any place he dislikes, any person he does not want to meet, I will eliminate them all to repay my debt.

I can't take this anymore.

I collapsed to my knees.

She misunderstood everything at a fundamental level, and this so-called debt she wanted to repay was never once to my benefit. Instead, it only led to trouble.

This isn't what I imagined. The slave elf Ino I pictured wasn't like this.

What? Is that so? Then, I request my lord tell me his ideal at once! This lowly slave can become any woman her lord desires!

Oh, yeah? Then I wish you were two-dimensional. I want you to go back inside the game.

. . .

When things didn't go her way—

Hm? Did you say something?

She feigned ignorance so blatantly it was unbearable.

As I hung my head in disbelief, I heard footsteps quickly approaching from the hallway.

Ino! Is this thing at the school your fault again?

The girl the footsteps belonged to entered the room with a panicked shout.

It was Hisana Miyanagi, our school's student council president. With striking black hair, she posessed a dignified air of beauty. A wooden sword was clutched in her hand.

She'd clearly seen the TV report as she approached Ino, her wooden sword waving.

However, far from looking apologetic, Ino responded with a haughty and aloof expression.

How dare you enter Lord Kyohei's mansion without his consent? And to accuse someone without any proof? You're as brainless as ever, little girl.

Her tone was audacious, as if she couldn't possibly be the culprit.

Oh? It really wasn't you? Well, I'm sorry for suspecting you, but, you know . . .

Hisana looked genuinely remorseful, caught off guard by her own honesty.

No, it was definitely her.

I ended up snitching.

Lord Kyohei? Why would you take this little girl's side?

Ino was visibly shocked.

I knew it!

Fueled by even stronger rage, Hisana then brought her wooden sword down on Ino's head as punishment.

Ino crumbled to the ground with teary eyes, an all too familiar sight.

Hisana grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and dragged her out of the room.

You're coming with me and we're gonna get rid of that monster! Own up to this mess you made!

Ahh! Lord Kyohei!

Ino sobbed and begged for help, but this was her own fault.

Have fun.

I waved the two of them off.

It couldn't have been a more eventful morning. Yet this had somehow become the new normal, prompting a dry chuckle.

If I had known it would come to this, what would I have done back then?

Would I still have reached out to help that poor NPC from my game?

A knight clad in pitch-black armor from head to toe raced across the field.

Ahead stood a group of Crystal Golems.

Upon noticing the knight, they swung their massive arms trying to crush him.

But the nimble hero easily dodged their clumsy attacks, slipping through and reaching toward his scabbard as he passed by.

The black greatsword he carried on his back was unsheathed in a swift motion.

With a couple of effortless swings, the sword gleamed and slashed as the Crystal Golems crumbled one by one with dying groans.

Each swing of his sword, light as a feather, sent the golems to their demise, their anguished cries echoing through the air.

Of course, this wasn't real. It was all happening inside a computer screen, in a game.

And that knight who showed unstoppable prowess? Well, it was my avatar.

My username was Rat, and my class was dark knight.

As the dark knight Rat stowed his greatsword on his back, he struck a dashing pose. At the same time, the horde of Crystal Golems transformed into items one after another.

I let out a satisfied sigh in front of my screen.

The wildly popular MMORPG, Wizard's Tale Online—known to fans as Wizard's Tale . . .

I'd been deeply engrossed in this MMO for three years now.

At the moment, I was repeatedly defeating Crystal Golems to collect materials to enhance my equipment.

Excuse me!

A male warrior player approached Rat. Of course, this being an online game, the warrior was also a player. What could he possibly want?

I'm trying to take a screenshot with my girlfriend, but you've been in the shot for a while now. Could you be a bit more aware of your surroundings?

Looking over, I saw a female white mage standing a short distance away, arms crossed and looking listless, as if telepathically sending a message to me.

Um, excuse me. You're in the way. Can you move?

I noticed this couple earlier, constantly hugging, using each other's laps as pillows, making heart shapes with their hands—they were really into each other.

By that time, I was already irritated. Couples engaging in shameless PDA on train platforms or in parks were already annoying enough. They created their own little world without regard for others. Just because this was an open-world game, it didn't mean it was that open.

I was graciously turning a blind eye as I continued my quest.

Yet here I was, being reproached by some in-game lovey-dovey couple. Why me?

I yelled at my computer screen.

I'll kill you!

True to my word, my avatar, the dark knight Rat, lunged at the male warrior in front of me.

***

The battle, if you could even call it that, was over in an instant.

Rat overpowered the couple with tremendous force, leaving them sprawled at his feet.

What the hell, man? What did we even do to you?

What the hell's your problem? Are you kidding me?

My chat window filled up with their spiteful comments, music to my ears.

I chuckled to myself and casually responded to the two of them.

You got on my nerves. That's enough reason for you to die.

The response came back immediately.

Just because we got on your nerves, you think it's OK to PK us?

PK stood for Player Kill, which meant killing other players in the game.

Wizard's Tale was known for its high degree of freedom, and PK'ing was a feature.

Players who were PK'ed lost all their money and became unable to log in for a certain period, creating a unique tension and culture within the game.

The indignation of this couple was part of that culture.

And one might ask, was PK'ing for such trivial reasons OK?

A good question. The answer was yes.

Of course it's OK. Live as you please. That is my dark knight's creed.

It was a done deal. I looked smugly at the screen.

That was my guiding principle when I played Wizard's Tale as the dark knight Rat.

At least in the game, let everyone do as they please, freely and willfully.

What the heck are you saying—wait! Your username, Rat. The Rat? The known PK'er?

Ugh, no way! Get a life, you disgusti—

And then the duo vanished into particles of light, their final chat messages lingering on the screen.

Just before they disappeared, they seemed to realize who I was. I was a well-known player in the world of Wizard's Tale, after all.

I always made it into the top ten overall player rankings, calculated from levels, stats, amount of money, quests cleared, varieties of monsters defeated, and items collected.

My all black attire alone, if sold online, would fetch tens of thousands of dollars for its high rarity.

In short, I was a top-tier player, but that wasn't the only reason I was famous.

I was somewhat of a casual PK'er. But it wasn't like I went on indiscriminate killing sprees or anything!

As I just mentioned, I played with the policy of behaving freely without being bound by real-world complications.

Because I didn’t hold back or show restraint against players who irritated me, my PK count skyrocketed, and I earned a notorious reputation as a PK'er.

So now I was quite the unpopular figure in Wizard's Tale's circles, but I didn’t care at all, and I didn't have any regrets.

I always wanted to play solo, anyway. I didn't belong to any guild or have many in-game friends, but I thoroughly enjoyed Wizard's Tale from the bottom of my heart.

Well, now that those annoying players were dealt with, it was about time to log out.

But before that, there was a place I had to visit, a trading post in a certain town.

Behind this trading post was where one NPC resided, the slave elf Ino.

***

I arrived at the trading post and went around to the back.

There, I saw Ino, busy drawing water from a well.

I still remember the shock I felt the first time I saw her.

With a dignified face that wouldn’t be out of place on a queen of elves, this lady was dressed in shabby, tattered clothes, collared, and made to do physical labor as a slave.

I'd always had a thing for women a bit older than me, so I was naturally predisposed to like her from the get-go.

Moreover, the contrast between her miserable, frail demeanor and her slave attire that emphasized that voluptuous, adult figure, that eroticism born from something immoral . . .

It made my heart twinge. It wasn't out of pity or anything; I was genuinely charmed.

I seriously couldn't stand abuse play, but I guess I had a bit of a soft spot for her pitiful nature.

A pitiful, adult lady—it was a type of character I'd never encountered before, and she captivated my heart immediately.

Sadly though, since Ino was an NPC, her actions fell into a single pattern.

She'd carry a heavy-looking bucket filled with water, moving it from the well to a spot some distance away.

Then, as if to portray her hands getting rough from all her work, she'd pitifully rub them together.

She would then carry the bucket back to the well and fill it with water again.

She endlessly repeated the cycle of drawing water and moving the bucket. No other actions whatsoever.

And only one line of dialogue.

Sigh.

That was it. Just a sigh. The only way I knew her name was the speech bubble that appeared on the screen.

No matter how many times I talked to her, she only responded the same way. I hated it.

However, on the flip side, this left plenty of room for imagination, which allowed my role-playing skills to thrive.

Are you tired of carrying that one bucket after all those sighs? Are you eating properly?

Sigh.

Of course, you can't eat well, can you? Being a slave and all, you're probably just fed vegetable scraps. Hahaha.

Sigh.

Essentially, I immersed myself in the character of the dark knight Rat and enjoyed the game my way.

I've always had an active imagination, and Ino's lack of dialogue was actually quite convenient for it.

I pity you, really. One day, I'd like to take you out and show you what delicious food is like.

Sigh.

While I'm here, I might as well give you something. I just picked up an item earlier. It is useless to me, practically trash. You may have it.

Sigh.

I placed an item called Guardian Angel Uranus Ring on the ground. This was basically equivalent to throwing it away, as items and equipment set down quickly vanished. I chose to interpret this disappearance as Ino accepting the item.

As I rubbed my hands together, the ring I had just placed disappeared in front of Ino.

Surely, Ino must have accepted it.

Imagining her wearing the ring, I, as Rat, flashed an awkward smile.

It looks even better on you than I thought it would.

Sigh.

Although I called it practically trash, the Guardian Angel Uranus Ring item was actually quite rare, and could only be obtained from a limited-time event.

I offered her rare items often, knowing full well it was pointless. It was all part of the role-play.

That's how much I was smitten with this Ino NPC.

I wondered if anyone would make things like wall scrolls, body pillows, or fanzines of her.

That was how much I enjoyed these sweet moments with my darling Ino.

From the opposite direction, a party of other players approached noisily.

At times like this, I made it a point to leave quickly. It was embarrassing to be seen trying to sweet-talk an NPC, and the image of a dark knight swiftly leaving after being spotted in a secret meeting carried a somewhat cool, tough-guy image.

I reluctantly turned my back on my in-game crush and started walking away, but just then, I suddenly heard the swishing and clanging of swords being drawn for battle.

I switched the camera angle to see behind me. To my surprise, the party I had just passed was ganging up on Ino and attacking her.

Look at this stupid slave.

Huh? She doesn't look like a slave to me! Don't complain about just fetching water as if you've got it so bad.

Real slaves have much worse working conditions, you know.

Keep working over lunch break!

I'll punch your time card for you later, so don't touch it.

It was clear at a glance that this was just a prank on an NPC.

Part of the freedom of Wizard's Tale is that you can attack NPCs, buildings, and natural objects.

Pranks like this were pretty common. I remember vandalizing my fair share of NPCs and buildings myself when I first started playing.

Maybe these people are just venting some serious frustrations from their IRL jobs.

Whatever it was, Ino ended up groaning and collapsing after enough punishment by these nasty ne'er-do-wells.

Needless to say, I'd never laid a hand on Ino, so this was the first time I saw her like this.

Honestly, there was something charming about the pitiful way she fell.

Those pleading hands, that pained expression . . . It really tugged at my heartstrings.

But that feeling was fleeting. Soon, a swell of discomfort took over.

Bullying the weak, what a distasteful sight. And to think, they were targeting the girl I cared for. I couldn't stay silent.

Hey, back off from that elf girl.

As soon as I sent the chat, all the attention turned toward me.

Huh? Who the hell are you?

Wait a minute! Isn't that Rat, the famous PKer?

It seems they recognized me, and their panic was evident, but it was already too late.

I typed a few words of farewell to the troublemakers.

Living as I desire is my dark knight's creed. Anything that bothers me, I eliminate.

The righteous indignation at seeing my beloved character oppressed brought me to draw Rat's sword.

***

Don't mess with me!

I'll find you one day, Rat!

Oh, the howls of sore losers, so satisfying!

The thugs ranted as they disappeared into specks of light. Despite their arrogance, these players were all bark and no bite.

The thrill of crushing these dickheads with my overwhelmingly superior skills left me trembling with excitement.

Not only that, this time it wasn't just any PK; it was to save Ino, which particularly boosted my sense of satisfaction.

I felt like a hero. No, as a dark knight, more like a dark hero. Ha! Cool!

While I was basking in delight, I sensed something off when I suddenly looked back at Ino.

I assumed she would've returned to her usual routine of drawing water from the well, filling the bucket, and rubbing her hands together.

But she was still slumped over, despite no more attacks coming her way.

She was no longer groaning or reaching out her hands for help.

Instead, she just looked up at me—Rat.

What is this, a bug?

I muttered to myself, watching the computer screen. Right after that, Ino slowly lifted her head and looked at me.

Huh?

Not at Rat in the game, but at me, the person on the other side of the monitor. Or at least, it seemed that way. The next moment, my screen suddenly went black.

Huh? What?

Code began to race across the screen at an incredible speed.

It looked like some kind of programming code, but I had no idea what it was.

My lack of programming knowledge aside, the characters filling the screen weren't even in Japanese, let alone in the Roman alphabet or Arabic numerals.

However, I had seen similar characters before in a book or something.

Runes?

That's right, the characters filling the screen seemed to resemble what was often called magical symbols or mystical script.

***

This account is currently unavailable.

Ugh.

A sigh of disappointment escaped me.

After these bizarre experiences, from Ino's bug, to the programming screen, what awaited me was a ban.

The rune-like code screen ended by prominently displaying the Wizard's Tale logo emblem before blacking out again. A few seconds later, the title screen appeared as if nothing had happened.

I tried to log in, but it was in vain. The same error code kept showing up.

No matter how many times I entered the correct account name and password, it didn’t work. I tried another alt account besides my dark knight Rat, but none of them worked either.

I decided to give it some time and maybe change devices. A full day later, I found myself in a rundown manga cafe.

Even trying to access Wizard's Tale on a rented computer, the result was still the same.

The error code displayed in front of me made me hang my head in frustration.

If I had to guess why I got banned, it would probably be for PK'ing. Although it was allowed by the game, it was true that it attracted a lot of hate from other players.

So maybe one of them reported me for harrassment, or maybe the administrators had been keeping an eye on me for a while and decided I had finally gone too far.

The quickest way would be to contact them directly, but being banned means I must've done something wrong.

The thought of being scolded by the adults running the game made me hesitant to even try.

After much deliberation, I decided to postpone dealing with the problem. My grandpa used to say that sometimes things heal only with time. Applying that to this situation, I decided to leave the cafe.

May I get the check, please?

I went to the reception and handed the bill to the disinterested staff member.

I watched the annoyed way he punched the register.

Worst customer service ever. I’m never coming back. One star!.

I was internally grumbling, when suddenly—

Bang! The back door burst open, and a group of tough-looking guys in matching shirts, clearly staff, came out. They were undoubtedly workers, but they surrounded me for some reason.

I was confused and trying to grasp the situation, but one of them broke the silence.

You’re the dark knight Rat, aren’t you?

Huh?

It felt as if my chest was being squeezed.

How could they know that?

You know we can see everything on the computers the customers use from the back room. That account name you entered, you’re the PK'er Rat, right?

Hadn't they ever heard about privacy in this place? I wouldn’t even give it one star.

And even if I was Rat, why would they surround me so threateningly?

Remember me? I'm the player you killed yesterday!

The realization hit me instantly, and I felt the blood drain from my face. This couldn't be happening. Could it?

These were the thugs bullying Ino, the ones I killed in-game!

***

I was cornered in a dead-end alley behind the building that housed the manga cafe. They had me.

Standing in front of me were four menacing men.

As I glanced at their expressions, one guy’s temples twitched with rage while another smirked sadistically.

The air was thick with impending violence. A confrontation seemed inevitable.

With that, I had no choice but to brace myself. It was now or never! Strike first to win! Catch them off guard! Take this!

I'm really sorry for getting carried away!

Without hesitation, I dropped to my knees and begged for forgiveness.

You think a simple "sorry" is gonna cut it?

The man’s angry shout immediately dismissed my apology.

My all-out prostration was as effective as pouring water on hot stone; their anger didn’t seem to subside at all.

As things escalated, I tried to drop my head even lower to the ground, but one of the men forcefully pulled me up by my collar and drew back his fist.

Oh, no. This was really happening. I was gonna get the crap beaten out of me. My whole body shrank, my jaw and knees quivered with fear. My heart pounded violently, and my throat dried up. I could barely breathe.

"Game over" flashed through my mind. Just then . . . it happened.

What are you doing?

A clear voice wafted through the air.

Everyone turned toward the voice. The tense atmosphere loosened. The grip on my collar slackened.

Huh?

A stunned voice unintentionally escaped from someone.

It was a natural reaction. A woman was casually approaching us here in this deserted alley.

And this was no ordinary woman. Not only was her appearance unusual, but she was also a familiar presence, one I had even wished to see on posters and body pillows.

She was covered in ragged clothes that hugged her shapely figure, an iron collar with chains, blonde hair, and pointy ears—this woman was the spitting image of my beloved character, the slave elf Ino.

Then, as she surveyed the situation and our eyes met, she frowned in displeasure.

Surely you would know better than to mess with him.

Her tone was sharp, in stark contrast to our dumbfounded expressions.

From her gaze, it seemed she was talking about me.

Heh heh, so what if we are?

The men exchanged glances and burst out in malicious laughter.

They seemed amused, as if a new toy had arrived.

However, the woman showed no signs of intimidation and met their gaze with a cold stare.

I figured as much. I am glad I made it in time. Now, it is time for you to die.

She spoke politely, yet her words carried a weight of anger.

The men initially took her words as a bluff and laughed again, but their expressions soon turned to sheer astonishment.

When the woman waved her hand, a pale blue trail of light suddenly appeared in the air.

What it was exactly remained unclear, but the circular mark drawn by the light was familiar.

It was the logo of Wizard's Tale—an emblem, about the size of a hula hoop.

She thrust her hands inside, and it seemed to swallow her arms like a portal to another dimension.

She fiddled inside the emblem and then pulled her arms out.

In her right hand was something like a red stone, and in her left, something resembling chickens beaks.

It was almost like she had pulled them out from the emblem somehow.

As these supernatural events unfolded one after another, the thugs and I could only watch in tense silence, but upon seeing what the woman had retrieved, I murmured to myself.

Bomb fragments and cockatrice beaks?

Indeed, they looked like items that would appear within Wizard's Tale.

Yes. Take this.

Nodding, the woman casually tossed the bomb fragments to the nearest man. Then, boom! It exploded, engulfing him in flames and blasting him away.

What?

As one of their own was charred to a crisp, the other men were struck with horror.

Meanwhile, the woman calmly scattered the cockatrice beaks on the ground. “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The beaks chirped like toys as they hit the ground. Then . . .

Wh-what is this?

I-I can’t move!

The expressions on the men’s faces were painted with fear and panic.

Starting from their toes, up their bodies, they began to petrify rapidly.

Aaaaahhhhhh!

Soon, the two men were frozen in their poses of dying screams, turned into perfect stone statues.

It was an unbelievable sight to behold.

Of course, I knew that bomb fragments would turn into an explosive when thrown at an enemy, and cockatrice beaks could cause petrification in the game.

But that was supposed to be just a game!

Who the hell are you?

The remaining man, the one who was winding up to hit me, screamed in terror.

The cockatrice beak did not affect you. Well, I suppose the success rate of status-altering items varies.

The woman ignored his panic completely, shook her head reluctantly, and fiddled with the emblem again.

How about this?

As she spoke, she pulled out a small hemp pouch the size of her palm.

I immediately had a hunch about what it was.

The lady took out the contents of the pouch—a purple powder—and spread it onto her palm. Then, she inhaled deeply and blew the powder toward the man. Immediately after, a rumbling sound followed.

Huh?

He grimaced in pain, clutching his stomach.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his legs trembled like a newborn fawn.

What the—my stomach is killing me!

It seems to have affected your stomach, just as intended.

She nodded in satisfaction. It was indeed moth scale powder—an item used in games to inflict poison status on enemies.

Now, you won't be able to move.

Then, the woman drew out various weapons from the emblem in front of me, one after another—swords, maces, whips, all resembling the ones from Wizard's Tale.

Everyone is still breathing. Feel free to boil, roast, stab, crush, peel, or enjoy their suffering in any other way you prefer.

Wait, what? Was she talking to me? She wanted me to do what to them? With these sinister-looking weapons? I turned pale, and so did the man next to me.

Perhaps this slave, Ino, should do it instead. So, what shall it be? Boiling, roasting, stabbing, crushing, peeling, opening up, dragging out, or tying up?

N-no, that’s enough, thank you!

Sensing my hesitation, she offered to take over, but I shook my head. Opening up, dragging out, tying up, what on earth? I could make guesses, but I didn't want to hear them. And she just called herself Ino. Was she a cosplayer or something?

Confronted with this woman's extreme suggestions, the man's spirit seemed to break.

I-I'm sorry! Seriously, I can't take it anymore! Forgive me!

Admitting defeat and still trembling, he began hobbling away.

The woman gave me a look as if asking if she should let him go, and I nodded emphatically.

Though she seemed a bit dissatisfied, she turned back to face me, changing her expression completely. A gentle smile played at her lips.

I am the NPC you helped the other day.

I have come to repay my debt, Lord Rat.

That was how Ino and I met in the real world.