Chapter 71: The Kirito Completion Project Begins

"Alright, since you've gathered everything, this weapon now belongs to you. However, it's accompanied me for many years—be sure to treasure it." With that, he turned and walked away, a strange circle of light appearing at his side.

"Who are you?" This was a question Lance had always wanted to ask. The man's identity was concealed too well—he couldn't begin to guess, given only a single clue.

"Me? My name is Bear Grylls." As soon as he spoke, he vanished before Lance's eyes.

"What the—it's Bear himself?" Even Lance, deeply absorbed in his two-dimensional world, had heard his name countless times. He muttered, "Is it true then? The Earth could no longer satisfy him, so now he's traveling the worlds in search of new ingredients? But if Bear gave me his gear, what's he going to use?"

"Don't worry," a distant, ethereal voice drifted to Lance's ear, "this weapon only gained its power from the years it spent with me. If I lose it, I can simply craft another. After all, it's the heart that matters, not the tool."

———A line dividing time———

On a prairie of the twenty-eighth floor—

"Seriously, Lance, are all your people maniacs?" Klein rubbed his head in exasperation, pointing to a guy wielding a greatsword with both hands, voicing his complaint to Lance.

"Who knows? Things like this are rare though; usually, they're pretty normal. This time, something must've really fired them up," Lance replied, feigning ignorance.

"By the way, Klein, are you sure you don't want to join us?" Lance suddenly asked.

"Why would I? Don't you realize what would happen if I did? I don't want the girls to ostracize me," Klein replied, his expression a picture of awkwardness.

"What are you talking about? Sack just found himself a girlfriend, didn't he? We even gave him our 'blessing'," Lance protested, clearly offended by the accusation.

"Oh please—a tendon-splitting technique, followed by a 'crucifixion', and finally, everyone forced to down a bottle of booze before it ends. What kind of blessing is that?" Klein shuddered at the memory of the 'farewell ceremony' Lance had dragged him to witness one night.

"You don't understand—that's our way of showing friendship," Lance replied, his thick skin impervious to Klein's retort.

As the two debated whether their 'blessing' was really punishment, an unexpected figure appeared.

"Hey, the Black Swordsman is here! Everyone, come and watch!" Lance shouted in his usual offbeat fashion. The others, used to his antics, continued fighting monsters or letting off steam, paying him no heed.

Seeing his authority ignored, Lance, determined to prove his control over the group, tried again.

"Someone found a girlfriend!" he called.

Immediately—shing, shing—the dark plain was suddenly awash with a strange, crimson glow.

Although he himself was "temporarily" single and had nothing to fear, the feeling of so many eyes upon him was still unnerving.

"Tch, it's just him," someone muttered, clearly unfazed.

"That guy who wears black to look cool, drawing all the girls' attention but never actually dating anyone?" one person rattled off in a single breath, obviously envious.

"He'll never be out of the group. Even if he didn't join, he'll always be one of us," another chimed in, proudly predicting the future.

Clearly, no one believed the Black Swordsman had a girlfriend. After flipping Lance the finger, they all returned to their activities.

Kirito, though relieved he wouldn't be subjected to any 'torture', couldn't help but feel a faint sense of melancholy.

After the others had gone, Kirito asked, "You guys didn't join the raid this time. What happened?"

Kirito knew Lance never missed a raid—always after the boss drops, which couldn't be farmed. He was curious why they’d skipped it this time.

"Tch, some obnoxious boss had the nerve to parade a bunch of 'girls' right under our noses. So I took some people and took him down." As he spoke, Lance produced a weapon.

"See? This is our loot. Once we save up enough, we're hanging it in our room to warn future generations." He put his equipment away again.

Klein had no idea whether Lance had joined the raid or not—after all, he hadn’t either, since it was too dangerous to go every time. Still, Lance’s explanation left him speechless.

"Alright, so what brings you here?" Lance asked, ignoring Klein’s embarrassment and turning to Kirito.

"I joined a guild," Kirito said with his usual stoic expression.

"..."

"..."

After a moment of awkward silence, excitement broke out.

"No way! Which guild? The Knights of the Blood Oath? The Holy Dragons? Or maybe the Army, those losers?" Lance asked, unconcerned. When he’d changed Kirito's status as a Beater, he’d known the story would shift. Looking at today’s date, he couldn’t help but marvel at inertia—he’d always thought Kirito would eventually join Klein's guild, but here they were.

"Why not join us?" Klein asked, surprised that the person he’d been trying to recruit had been snatched away without a word. At the very least, he wanted to know why.

"None of those. Just a small group called Black Cat—highest member only level forty. As for why..." Kirito glanced at Lance, expecting him to protest. After all, outside of Lance’s 'regular events', the two of them always teamed up. Now Kirito had quietly joined a guild, which should have upset Lance. But why didn’t he mind when Lance started his own guild? Because, to him, it was just a bunch of idiots gathering together—more like a school club than a real guild, with no real restrictions beyond a so-called 'blood oath.' There were no barriers. But joining a smaller guild meant things wouldn’t be as laid-back; even with Kirito on board, their small numbers meant they couldn't afford to slack. Whether soloing or teaming with Lance, they never did anything too crazy, but a guild was different, even a normal one.

"No need to explain—I understand. Congratulations on finding your place. I'll keep your secret." Lance clapped Kirito on the shoulder, then squatted by Klein’s ear and whispered so only he could hear, "Any girls in your guild?"

Just one sentence, and Klein was instantly petrified.