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Chapter 375 ~ Link Start

Yuuki Shouzou.

The name lingered on the screen, unfamiliar, yet at the same time carrying a strange, undeniable weight.

Yuuji’s gaze narrowed slightly. 

“Ah… That’s right…”

And as if in response to that realization, the memories surfaced.

Not his own, yet undeniably his.

The Multiverse Group Chat did not merely grant him a fabricated past; it rewrote the world itself to accommodate his existence. 

The people within it did not see him as an outsider. They remembered him. They knew him. Relationships were not one-sided illusions, but mutual connections woven seamlessly into reality.

And among those connections, Yuuki Shouzou held a significant place.

A quiet understanding settled in Yuuji’s eyes.

Yuuki Shouzou and his wife had been close friends of his “late parents.” Not mere acquaintances, but people bound by years of trust and familiarity.

And yet… Yuuji himself had barely met them.

Only once.

Under a gray sky, the muted scent of incense, black clothing, and silence so heavy it felt suffocating. It had been during his parents’ funeral.

That was the first and only time he had stood before them, exchanging words that felt hollow against the weight of loss pressing down on his chest.

“…Even so.” 

Despite that distance, despite that lack of interaction, they had chosen to care. To reach out. To extend a hand.

Yuuki Shouzou had even gone so far as to offer him a managerial position within his company upon graduation, a gesture so significant that it bordered on extraordinary.

He was the owner of RECT Progress Inc., a technological powerhouse specializing in digital systems, software development, and virtual reality research.

While it had not pioneered full-dive technology like ARGUS, it remained one of the largest and most influential companies in the industry. For countless graduates, it was a dream destination, a place only the most capable could hope to enter.

And yet, Yuuji had been offered a managerial role before even graduating.

Such an offer was not merely rare, it was almost absurd. It spoke volumes not just of Shouzou’s generosity, but of his evaluation. His trust in Yuuji’s intellect. His confidence in his character. His belief in his potential.

Not charity. Not an obligation. But trust.

Though… that had been before they discovered the truth.

That the boy they had extended their support toward was already someone far beyond expectations, a major shareholder, a silent force within their own company.

“The same Tsubakihara Yuuji…” 

He recalled Shouzou’s reaction and muttering. Surprise, astonishment, perhaps even disbelief. Though at the time, he hadn’t paid attention. Grief had muted everything.

The pain of losing his loving parents pushed away everything and everyone out of his mind. 

But they did.

Because after that revelation, they made a decision, to “adopt” him. Not officially, perhaps, but in every way that mattered.

Their reasoning was simple, even pragmatic. A boy who, at such a young age, could acquire a significant portion of shares within a major company, assets worth easily hundreds of millions of yen, was not someone ordinary. Not someone to be left alone.

Even for a man like Yuuki Shouzou, that level of capability was beyond expectation.

So you decided to bring him in. 

To give him a stable environment. To ensure his growth. And eventually, to have him inherit the company.

A calculated decision. But not a cold one. Because intertwined within that logic was something more

“…You even went that far, huh.”

A faint, almost amused exhale left his lips as he stared at the screen. 

A message written by a man busy enough to almost never return home. 

[Yuuki Shouzou: “How are you doing? I hope you are fine. I’m unfortunately unable to return home this year. Take care of yourself.”]

Yuuji smiled softly, and began sending a return message. 

[Tsubakihara Yuuji: “I am doing well, Shouzou-san. Thank you very much. I hope you are also doing fine. Please take care of yourself. And when you have time, call your wife and children. I’m sure they would appreciate it, no matter how short.”]

To him, they had simply been kind people.

Distant. Busy. But they never forgot him, messages at least once a week, gifts from their travels, birthday presents that arrived without fail. Small gestures, but genuine ones.

“…They’ve only ever treated me well.”

Yuuji leaned back slightly, his expression softening just a fraction.

There was no deep emotional attachment, no familial warmth he could truly claim as his own.

But neither was there indifference. He couldn’t simply disregard them.

“Hm… Ai. Can you gather information on RECT Progress Inc.?”

He called out.

Ai blinked in surprise from the monitor, tilting her head slightly.

“RECT Progress? That’s not related to Sword Art Online, though…”

She repeated, clearly puzzled. 

“Mm. Please?”

She didn’t question him further. Instead, she smiled brightly.

“Alright, master~!”

Ai once again began collecting data from the internet. Anything, everything related to RECT was collected, analyzed, and summarized by Ai for Yuuji. 

And soon, Ai’s voice resounded, calling to him. 

“Master! I found something interesting!”

She spread her arms, presenting the information to the screen next to her. 

The information and analysis for the company itself didn’t contain much problem. 

Though the one thing Ai mentioned did smell… fishy.

“Ai, keep an eye on this guy. He’s too squeaky clean, even though many around him, especially his competitors, were met with various unfortunate events.”

“Roger that!”

Yuuji nodded. 

“If he began causing trouble, go ahead and sabotage him. I’ll take responsibility of the fallout.”

Yuuji was well aware of the power and influence that came with his wealth. He could take care of a measly employee if he dare do something troublesome in Shouzou’s company. 

“Uhn~ Leave it to me!”

Ai saluted with a wide grin. 

--------------------------------X--------------------------------

“…Yuuji, I heard… You’re going to be sleeping for a long time?”

Ophis’ quiet voice broke through the stillness, soft yet carrying a weight that lingered in the air.

Yuuji turned toward her, a hint of surprise flickering across his face.

She was seated beside him on the bed, her small frame still and composed, yet somehow closer than usual. 

Aria, Alice, and Est were gathered around him as well, their presence almost clinging. While at the edge of the bed, Semiramis sat with poised elegance, her posture relaxed, though her eyes never strayed from him.

Resting on Yuuji’s lap was the NerveGear, its sleek surface catching the ambient light of the room. A cable trailed from it, connecting to both the power source and the computer, like a lifeline bridging two entirely different worlds.

The mood was heavy.

Not with fear, but with reluctance.

They weren’t worried about the so-called death game. The idea that something like that could truly harm Yuuji was, to them, nothing more than an impossibility.

What troubled them was something far simpler.

The thought of being separated from him.

Yuuji’s expression softened as he met Ophis’ gaze.

“To the Dragon of Infinity, I thought a year or two would be nothing more than a blink of an eye.”

He said gently, a faint teasing warmth in his voice. 

Ophis did not respond immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on him.

Her face was as expressionless as ever, yet within those deep, jewel-like irises—once as empty and dark as the void she called home—subtle emotions flickered into existence.

“A day without Yuuji… and snacks… is too long…”

Her voice was quiet. Simple.

But it carried more weight than any elaborate plea.

Beside her, Alice, Aria, and Est nodded in unison, their small hands tightening around his clothes as if instinctively trying to keep him from slipping away.

“…You guys…”

A helpless smile formed on Yuuji’s lips as he looked at them, warmth and exasperation blending together.

“Alright… I’ll come back once in a while.”

He sighed softly.

“…Really?”

For a brief moment, Ophis’ eyes shimmered—like faint stars lighting up a silent night sky.

Yuuji nodded.

Then he turned toward the monitor.

“Ai, can you make sure that no one—not even the game master—realizes I’ve left when I return?”

The small digital girl on the screen perked up instantly, her expression bright with confidence.

“Of course, master! I can inhabit your body and make it seem like you’ve never gone!”

Yuuji let out a soft chuckle.

“Thank you.”

He turned back to the girls, his gaze gentle.

“There you go. I’ll come back whenever I can, when I’m not busy. Okay?”

“…Uhn.”

“Okay! That’s a promise, master!”

“…Mm.”

“Uhn.”

Their responses overlapped softly, each voice carrying relief in its own way.

Only then did their grip on his clothes loosen.

Yuuji exhaled quietly before shifting his attention once more.

“Semi, take care of things here while I’m gone.”

Semiramis smiled, her expression confident and unwavering.

“Naturally, my lord~ Please enjoy yourself and leave everything to me.”

He gave a small nod.

“Then… I’ll be going.”

Without hesitation, Yuuji lifted the NerveGear and placed it over his head. The device settled into place with a faint hum, its systems activating as he lay back against the soft mattress.

Almost immediately, the girls leaned in, resting against him, surrounding him, as if trying to remain as close as possible until the very last moment.

Semiramis, meanwhile, remained where she was, her gaze never leaving him for even a second.

Today was the day Sword Art Online launched.

The day that would one day be remembered both as the beginning of a new era, and as the start of a nightmare.

The infamous Virtual Reality Death Game.

‘…I’m actually looking forward to it.’ 

Yuuji thought, a faint smile touching his lips.

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

Ai initiated the system.

And then—

“Link start.”

A cascade of colors flooded his vision, countless hues blending, shifting, colliding—before everything was swallowed by pure, blinding white.

Moments later, the light stabilized.

Interfaces began to appear.

Clean. Minimalistic.

Settings. Calibration. System confirmations.

Yuuji moved through them effortlessly, guided not by touch, but by thought alone. Each selection responded instantly to his intent, as though the system itself was reading his mind.

“…Interesting.”

There was no delay. No friction. Just pure responsiveness. At least to the normal person. 

To Yuuji, he could feel a slight delay between the responsiveness of the system to his regular senses. 

Soon, he arrived at the character creation screen.

And welcoming him was an Avatar that shared his likings. 

“Oh? So it scans my face when I put it on… and uses the calibration process to determine my height and build.”

Yuuji raised a brow slightly. 

It was impressive. Although it couldn’t perfectly replicate his appearance, it was still quite amazing. 

But…

“…That won’t do.”

His gaze sharpened slightly.

‘Standing out in a death game is asking for trouble.’

In a world where survival was everything, attention was a double-edged blade. Admiration could quickly turn into envy. Curiosity into suspicion.

And in the worst cases, hatred.

Yuuji had no interest in becoming a target.

“…I’ll keep it simple.”

He began adjusting the avatar.

The customization options were extensive, almost absurdly so. Every detail could be altered: hair length, texture, eye color, facial structure, even the smallest features like eyelashes and muscle tone.

A system designed to let players create their ideal selves.

But Yuuji had no intention of doing that.

Instead, he simplified. Removed anything that stood out.

Until what remained… was average.

Completely, utterly average.

Black hair. Black eyes. A slightly rounded face. An unremarkable height. A build that neither stood out nor drew attention.

The kind of person you would pass on the street and forget moments later.

“…Perfect. This will do.”

With that, he finalized his appearance.

As he navigated the interface, another thought crossed his mind.

“…Controlling this with intent alone…”

His eyes narrowed slightly in interest.

‘If I can do this in-game… it’ll be useful.’

The ability to manage menus without physical movement, especially during combat, could provide a significant advantage.

“…I’ll test that later.”

For now, there was only one thing left.

“Alright…”

His gaze steadied.

“Let’s begin.”

With a single command, the world shifted.

Light engulfed everything once more, brilliant and all-consuming.

It reminded him of his transitions between worlds—

Familiar. Yet… gentler.

No pain. No overwhelming surge. Just light. 

Then… A female voice echoed.

Clear. Welcoming.

[Welcome to Sword Art Online]