DXD: Table for one - Chapter 6

“Are you sure I shouldn’t help carry that? It’s got to be heavy…” Mikami asked, eyeing the long package in his own hands while watching Merlin casually heft another large box.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Merlin replied without missing a step. He didn’t even look winded. “I’m just glad it finally arrived.”

“It’s fine,” he says… Mikami muttered under his breath. “That thing weighs two hundred kilos. The delivery guy had to use a trolley to get it into my apartment. I had to push that thing with everything I had just to get it inside.”

He sighed, watching Merlin carry it with ease for the last three kilometers like it was nothing more than a bag of groceries.

“We’re already here, so there’s no point talking about it now,” Merlin said with a shrug, shifting the package slightly so he could push the door open with his back. The chime above the entrance jingled, announcing their arrival as they stepped into the familiar warmth of Menchi’s restaurant.

“Good day, Menchi!” Mikami greeted politely—then noticed someone already sitting at the bar.

The man looked Japanese, but his tired expression made him seem older than he probably was. At the sound of the door, his eyes lit up slightly as he recognized them. On the counter beside him rested a strange-looking device, shaped like a heavy-duty gas mask but just a lot more compact.

“Oh, Suzuki—you’re here too,” Mikami said with a grin as he set his own package down near the entrance.

Suzuki Satoru was from a future version of Japan—specifically, the year 2138. While he was a decent guy and easy to talk to, the world he came from was anything but cheerful.

It was straight out of a dystopian novel. Governments and elections were things of the past, replaced by massive corporate conglomerates. These corporations had poisoned the environment and collapsed society, then stepped in to seize total control.

The rich lived in towering “arcologies”—self-contained mega-cities with artificial skies, clean air, and every luxury imaginable. The poor were left to survive outside, forced to wear gas masks just to breathe in the toxic air. The real sky was gone, hidden forever behind a ceiling of thick black smog.

Greed had devoured his world. Humanity had become its own worst enemy.

Since discovering the restaurant, he had become a regular; after all, food like that was only available in these arcologies. The common folk had to live with cheap, artificially vat-grown food.

Suzuki had actually cried the first time he ate here.

After exchanging greetings, Merlin turned to Menchi. “Did Argo already come by today?”

“No,” Menchi said, glancing at the bulky packages they’d brought in. “But Asuna mentioned they’d be meeting here later. She said they were introducing two new members to the guild. Are those packages for them?”

“Yep. One full-sized anvil for real blacksmithing, and two fishing rods with all the gear they’ll need.” Merlin grinned as he sat down beside Suzuki and Mikami. “That should help with their leveling and equipment issues. After that, they just need to find the boss room, and we can finally clear the first floor.”

“Sounds like you’re looking forward to it,” Mikami said casually.

“Of course I am! I finally confirmed I can level up in there,” Merlin said with a hint of pride. “Even without assigning stat points, I still get stronger just by grinding… though it took forever with all those low-level mobs.”

He had been thrilled when he hit level 23 and noticed his strength had gone up by around five percent—maybe a little less. That seemed to match the fixed stat increases SAO players got with each level-up: one point to every stat automatically. The difference was that actual players also got three extra points to assign freely. Without the system interface, Merlin couldn’t access those at all.

Still, leveling was a lot better than actual physical training, since he not only got stronger in the process but also earned money and items. And by doing quests, he could also get nice pieces of equipment.

“Man… actually living inside a game sounds kinda nice,” Suzuki said with a wistful sigh.

The others gave him odd looks, then remembered the world he came from. Considering the hellscape he called home, even a dangerous game world might feel like paradise.

Suzuki was a hardcore gamer, after all—deep into a DMMO-RPG called YGGDRASIL. The idea of living in a virtual world where the environment wasn’t toxic must’ve been tempting.

“Well, I’d agree… if it had been their choice,” Merlin said dryly. “They were trapped in there against their will. And their real world was a good one.”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t mean it like that—you know what I meant,” Suzuki replied, waving a hand dismissively.

Merlin leaned back in his chair with a casual shrug, then suddenly remembered something he’d been meaning to bring up.

“Oh, right. Menchi, do you have a bit of time?”

“Sure. What is it?” the turquoise-haired restaurant owner asked as she reached for her order pad, getting ready to take their meal requests.

“I actually reached the 200th floor,” he said with a grin.

Even though he had been taking it easy, focusing on refining his hand-to-hand combat skills instead of rushing, it hadn’t been much of a challenge. His natural physical strength was already far above that of an ordinary human, and the climb had gone smoothly.

“You did, huh?” Menchi blinked at him, her expression flattening into something unreadable. “Let me guess—you ignored my advice and registered for a match on the 200th Floor.”

“Yeah, but I took the maximum prep time. I scheduled the fight for the last possible date—three months from now.” Merlin raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Besides, my body’s strong. I should be able to handle it. I can’t just stay at the bottom forever without knowing what’s up there.”

Menchi let out a long, exasperated sigh and rubbed her forehead. “You really don’t get it, idiot. It’s not about physical strength. Every attack on the 200th Floor is on a completely different level—beyond the physical body.”

“What’s she talking about?” Mikami asked, glancing at Merlin with a hint of worry.

“Her world has… well, supernatural powers,” Merlin explained. “Everyone on the 200th floor uses it. I don’t have it because Menchi’s only going to teach me after I become a Hunter—which is over ten months away. But there’s another way to unlock it… by getting hit with it.”

Mikami’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Menchi’s glare sharpened.

“That’s supposed to be a secret, by the way. We don’t need our society turning into a madhouse with everyone running around with superpowers. Too many people would abuse them. And what this idiot isn’t saying,” she added, stabbing a finger in Merlin’s direction, “is that getting hit by it has a very high chance of killing you. Even if you survive, you could be crippled. Losing a limb is one of the milder outcomes.”

Merlin just shrugged again. “That’s true, but my body’s stronger than normal. It’s a calculated risk I’m willing to take. If I wait for the Hunter Exam, I’ll miss the Mid-Class Exam in my own world.”

Menchi stared at him for a long moment, deadpan, before finally shaking her head. “Fine. I’ll teach you. But you’d better get your Hunter License in the next exam.”

“Thanks, Menchi, you’re the best!” Merlin grinned from ear to ear.

Suzuki, who had been listening quietly, tilted his head. “Why does he even need a hunter license? It’s not like he’s planning to work as a Hunter in your world.”

For the past few days, the three of them—Merlin, Mikami, and Suzuki—had been making bigger plans. Plans that had nothing to do with fighting monsters. They were going to acquire as much advanced technology from Suzuki’s version of Japan as possible, reverse-engineer it, and build a business empire spanning multiple worlds.

Ever since Suzuki learned the truth about Menchi’s multiversal restaurant, he had been determined to escape the hellhole he was born in. He was mostly waiting for the YGGDRASIL servers to shut down in a few weeks before making his move. He was unwilling to simply abandon the creation he had made in the game with his friends before discovering the restaurant. There were too many nice memories to not say goodbye to it. Mikami was already researching how to obtain a new identity in his own Japan so Suzuki could start anew.

Merlin had been funding the operation with his own earnings, helping Suzuki order all kinds of goods—devices and books on science, engineering, mathematics, politics, philosophy, and even fiction. Physical as well as digital copies. This opportunity was too good to pass on; even if plagiarism was kind of bad, who could complain if the original author doesn’t even exist yet or never will? With Menchi’s ability to exchange currency between worlds, their combined spending power was nothing to scoff at.

Mikami’s apartment and Merlin’s room in Heaven’s Arena were already stacked with boxes from Suzuki’s world.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Menchi finally replied to Suzuki’s question. “If I train him and he becomes a Hunter—and not just any Hunter, but a Single Star Hunter—I’ll get something out of it too. One of the bylaws says that if a Hunter you’ve trained earns a star for outstanding achievements, the mentor gets promoted as well. I could become a Double Star Hunter.”

“Ah, I see,” Suzuki nodded.

Menchi turned back to Merlin. “We’ll start your training this afternoon. Once these two head off to work.”

The soft chime above the entrance rang as the door swung open.

Merlin glanced over. “Or maybe a bit later…”

Stepping inside were Asuna and Argo, followed by three unfamiliar faces.

The first was a black-haired boy, his hair a little long but neat, framing a delicate face with sharp black eyes. He wore a navy-blue jacket with studded blue shoulders and a long hem, dark gray pants, brown boots, and a golden chest plate engraved with a crescent moon. Underneath, a simple gray shirt peeked out, and a pair of black fingerless gloves covered his hands.

Behind Asuna was a freckled girl with short brown hair. She wore a reddish shirt with white accents, a brown leather chest plate, a light gray skirt, and well-worn leather boots.

Last was a man whose appearance made Merlin pause. His light blue hair fell in long bangs framing his face, matching his sharp blue eyes. Even his clothes were various shades of blue, broken only by his brown boots and chest plate.

Wait a second… Weren’t player avatars supposed to match their real-life appearance? Then why the hell did this guy have blue hair?

“Oh, it’s pretty lively today,” Argo commented, her eyes drifting over to where Mikami, Suzuki, and Merlin were sitting. Menchi was behind the counter, still watching the door while busying herself with something.

“Hey, Asuna, Argo. So these are the people you’ve been talking about?” Merlin greeted them with a friendly smile, giving the three newcomers a quick once-over and a wave.

In the days he’d been grinding in Sword Art Online, Argo had mentioned she was gathering trustworthy players for their plan, but she hadn’t actually introduced them yet—it had taken her time to track them down and make sure they were actually trustworthy and not in cohorts with Kayaba. Asuna had been doing the same.

“Yep,” Argo confirmed. “These are Kirito and Diabel. I know both of them from the beta. They are amongst the more skilled players.”

“And this is Lisbeth,” Asuna added. “She’s the friend I met on the first day.”

Merlin nodded. “Nice to meet you three. So… did they already tell you what’s going on here?”

“That this restaurant leads to other worlds?” Kirito replied, tone dry but eyes scanning the place with curiosity. “Let’s just say I’m skeptical. But… I trust Argo.”

“The easiest way to prove it is to just try it,” Merlin said with a shrug. “Asuna, close the door.”

As soon as the door shut, all three newcomers flinched slightly. The same system notification Asuna and Argo had received on their first visit popped up in front of them—warning that they were about to leave Aincrad, but that the restaurant’s system support would prevent them from actually dying.

“See? I told you I wasn’t lying,” Argo said, a little smug. Then her gaze shifted to two large packages near the entrance. Her eyes widened. “Wait… is that what I think it is?”

“Yep,” Merlin confirmed with a grin. “One full 200 kg anvil set, complete with smithing tools for serious work, and two fully equipped fishing rods.”

Argo’s face lit up as she tore into the packages. “Perfect! We’ll get your first payment once we turn a profit.” Then she turned to Kirito. “Here you go, Kii-bou—you said you wanted to start fishing, right? And Lisbeth here just decided to focus on becoming a blacksmith!”

“Oh?” Mikami leaned forward, having overheard. “Do you know where you’re setting up shop? I remember you saying that was a problem.”

“We’ve decided to rent one of the cheaper workshops in the Town of Beginnings,” Argo explained excitedly. “Normally, it’s impossible for a single player to afford one this early, but with three beta testers pooling our funds, we made it work. We’ll have a monopoly on the business for several floors at least, so it should pay for itself quickly.”

“That’s good and all,” Merlin said, “but where are you going to get the ore? Blacksmithing only unlocks on higher floors. Should I look into sourcing some metal for you?”

“That would help, yeah,” Argo replied, “but we can get started right away. All Lisbeth has to do is hit this anvil ten times. That’ll unlock ore generation on every floor. She might even get a special skill as the first player to do it. That’s at least the rumors I heard in the beta.”

“Oh, then let’s do it right now,” Merlin said, hauling the heavy anvil outside the restaurant. “I want to see this.”

Everyone followed, watching as Lisbeth stepped forward nervously. Taking the hammer in hand, she began to strike the anvil—once, twice, until the tenth hit rang out.

A system window popped up in front of every player present.

System Notice: A player has unlocked blacksmithing. Ore spawns are now enabled!

Only Lisbeth received an additional message.

Extra Skill Gained! < Forging Resonance – Forging with perfect rhythm grants a random bonus stat to the weapon. >

Argo peeked over Lisbeth’s shoulder, impressed. “That’s amazing! I knew there was an extra skill, but I never found out what it was in the beta. With this, you’re practically guaranteed to be the top smith in the game for a long time.”

———

POV: ?

A tall, broad-shouldered man with steel-grey hair stood at the edge of a cliff, arms hanging loosely at his sides. The wind tugged lightly at his coat, but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the glowing system window floating in the air before him. He read the words once, then again, then a third time, as if checking for a hidden detail he might have missed.

System Notice: A player has unlocked blacksmithing. Ore spawns are now enabled!

“Interesting,” he muttered, the word little more than a quiet thought.

First, someone had managed to unlock cooking on Floor 1—something he had specifically designed to be impossible until Floor 2. Now, blacksmithing had been unlocked just as early. Neither should have happened, unless…

A low growl echoed behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. The system voice followed a second later.

< Immortal Object > < Immortal Object > < Immortal Object >

Three giant boars charged from the tree line, their tusks glinting as they crashed into his back with bone-jarring force. The ground shuddered under the impact—but he didn’t move an inch. Without turning, he drew the sword at his side. The blade ignited in a deep crimson glow, and with one smooth swing, a single slash cut through all three beasts.

The boars vanished in bursts of light, leaving only fading motes behind. He slid the weapon back into its sheath with a quiet click, his movements calm and unhurried.

Only then did his gaze shift outward, down toward the sprawling city far below. Urbus—the main settlement of Floor 2—spread in uneven layers of wooden buildings, stone streets, and open squares. From here, the place looked lively. NPCs wandered their scripted routes, stopping at market stalls, turning down the same streets at the same times, and interacting with each other in short, pre-programmed exchanges.

It was convincing enough for a casual observer. But to him, it was hollow. A stage filled with actors who would never change their lines.

Of course, he had been here longer than anyone else. While the rest of the players were still trapped on Floor 1, struggling to adapt and survive, he had been on Floor 2 since the very beginning. Being the creator of this world had its advantages.

Originally, this floor was meant to be where cooking and blacksmithing became available. The sudden early unlock meant the system’s AI had judged the current player survival rate as critical. That was far earlier than expected.

Five hundred players are dead already.

Most had taken their own lives. Others had been killed by monsters. And at least one had been murdered—by another player.

A killer, so soon after the game began. It wasn’t surprising. Fear, desperation, and self-interest had a way of pulling people’s real selves to the surface once the safety of normal life was stripped away.

Not that he had any right to judge. This entire situation existed because of him.

Still, early crafting wasn’t necessarily bad. It might even help keep players alive longer. If the player base collapsed too quickly, the game would lose all challenge—and all entertainment.

< Heathcliff – Lv 7 >

That was his only problem. A level that high would draw attention. If he wanted to blend in when the others arrived, he would need to appear as if he had been grinding quietly in some remote part of Floor 1.

A week of low-profile farming would do the trick. He could claim he’d been too busy hunting mobs to join the first-floor raid. No one would be able to prove otherwise.

Yes… that would work.