Chapter Seventy-Five: The Parade-The Roaming Homebody(Just a lolicon.)

Christmas Eve

"The thirty-second floor—the Grand Cathedral!"

As soon as you step through the gates, you’re greeted by countless items and weapons hanging on the walls. Among them, there are innumerable B-grade pieces, quite a few A-grade ones, and even several S-grade weapons. Strangely, their durability reveals they have never been used.

At the deepest part of the cathedral, candlelight flickers.

"Today marks about a year since our founding." The leader paused, as if sighing, then continued, "But—once again, on this Christmas, Akihiko Kayaba has organized an event just like before. I think you all understand the meaning behind this." He paused again, but this time, everyone could sense a shift in the atmosphere. "Provocation! That's right! This is a challenge directed at us. That's why, just as last time, I’ve gathered everyone together. This will be our second collective mission. All members must participate. If someone does not, I believe we all know the reason. As for punishment, I don’t need to elaborate." Lancer sat at the head of the table. Though she spoke, she never removed her hat, nor did the others. For everyone present, this day was no different from any other, except for the event. And what did the event have to do with them? They all had plenty of free time, so if someone didn’t show up, there must be a reason—likely one they all suspected.

"I agree with the Inquisitor’s proposal," declared a man in a purple robe adorned with strange patterns. The previously quiet conference room erupted once more.

"Seconded!"

…

Seeing everyone in agreement, Lancer spoke again. "Alright. According to the intel, tonight a special boss will appear. Supposedly, the reason for its appearance is to deliver gifts to all couples—a story fabricated for the occasion. The plot is already a mess, and with Renka’s contact with Kayaba, he’s no longer as strict as before. As for us—the Heretical Inquisition—we’ve been abandoned and ignored. So we must eliminate him! That dog who desecrates our faith!" Lancer rose passionately as she finished.

"Take him down!"

The room was instantly filled with roaring voices.

A man standing outside the door broke into a cold sweat.

"Damn! What are Lancer and the others up to again?" Kirito wiped nonexistent sweat from his brow, but decided to wait until everyone had dispersed before entering. Though his relationship with Yuki was not officially confirmed, everyone in the group had already labeled him as someone who had succumbed to temptation and left the organization. To avoid any unpleasant encounters, he decided to wait.

When everyone inside had left in groups, Kirito removed his cloak and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It’s me."

"The number you have dialed is not in service~"

Bang! With a loud crash, Kirito kicked the door open.

"Come on in, welcome," Lancer greeted Kirito with a smile, as if she hadn’t just been the one speaking moments ago.

Kirito took a deep breath to steady himself before asking, "Lancer, what are you planning? Give me some advance warning so I can steer clear." He certainly didn’t want to be caught by the group’s collective activity, and this time, it seemed every member would participate, regardless of rank. He doubted his ability to escape from a hunt involving hundreds of people.

"Oh, that matter? Nothing much. We’re going to look for Santa Claus and have a good discussion with him about how the gifts are being distributed." Lancer emphasized the word "discussion," causing Kirito to make a dumbfounded face—he’d never seen anything like this before.

Having obtained the information he needed, Kirito was about to bid Lancer farewell when he unintentionally noticed a letter on the table.

"Hmm? Lancer, why do you have a letter here?" He picked it up.

"To Mrs. Kirigaya." Seeing the words, Kirito immediately gave Lancer a suspicious look. He knew Lancer often sent information from outside to Yuki, but he could never catch her in the act. This time, though, he had clear evidence. But as he looked up, he saw Lancer standing by the window.

"Since you’re here, deliver it for me," she said, and then promptly jumped out.

A cold wind swept through, leaving Kirito alone in the cathedral, dazed by the breeze.

------ Dividing Line: The Hunt ------

In a certain restaurant on the first floor

"King Fang, how are things on your end?" Lancer casually ordered a dessert before addressing the man sitting across from her.

"No problem. All the strong members from the army have been dispatched in squads. How about your side?" King Fang asked Lancer, who was quietly sipping her tea. Though he knew her capabilities, he couldn’t help but worry slightly.

"My people? Don’t worry. All our officers are from the raid group. That trash from Smiling Coffin can’t harm them before we arrive." Lancer was unconcerned. The requirements for joining the FFF Brigade were peculiar, and those who met them were the type who had so much free time they could light cigarettes with it. Their levels were all in the top tier; even if they weren’t in the raid group, they were its reserve members. They had all faced death and survived. Lancer trusted them implicitly.

"Alright, then about the boss—"

Lancer cut in, "We’ll stick to the usual method for field bosses—whoever finds it first gets the first shot, the others provide support. If it doesn’t work, we swap." To reduce conflict among players, there were established distribution methods for various things. While there were no laws, all raid group players tacitly agreed to these rules. In this world, strength was authority, so naturally these became the accepted norms.

"Fine. Just remind your people to watch out for the Holy Dragon group," King Fang said, pulling his cloak tighter as he left the restaurant, not forgetting to add another warning.

"Smiling Coffin? The murder guild?" Lancer sneered, downing the rest of her tea before leaving as well. As for the Holy Dragon gang—those would-be troublemakers with no guts and a combat power of only five—she didn't concern herself with them in the slightest.