It had been a month since I started The World, or in other words, since Yasuhiko became comatose.
Besides playing the game, I surfed the Internet to gather information. I tried to find out more about the word “fragment” that Mr. Tokuoka mentioned.
But I didn’t learn anything in great detail.
I was only able to find out about superficialities. This word probably referred to the prototype of The World called ‘fragment’. A beta version of The World, released three years prior in 2007. It was in operation for less than three months. It had 1024 players.
But when I was asked what it had to do with what was happening right now, I had no idea.
This was the limits of the Internet. The only way to go further was to actually take action and move around. Like Mr. Tokuoka.
I had no such luxury. After all, I was only a junior high school student who still had compulsory education. After studying each day, there wasn’t much time left to play a game.
“The right person in the right place,” Mr. Tokuoka had said.
That was certainly true.
I had to do what I and only I could do.
The immediate problem was that my parents were becoming skeptical about me.
They started telling me that they don’t like me spending so much of my time in the game.
“It seems like you’re playing on the computer very late at night,” my father said. “You don’t have to keep playing all night. It’s just a game.”
“Have you been studying? Don’t you relax after tests?” said my mother. “It’s an important time, so study carefully.”
I think they said it was because of a jump in the electricity bills. I think they felt sorry about it, but I was dumbfounded by their manner of speaking, as though I was being gradually encircled and constricted.
I couldn’t help but choose my words carefully.
“Everyone is playing it. If I don’t stay up a little late, I won’t be able to keep up with the latest news,” I said innocently. “It’s hard to adjust to a whole new class.”
They averted their eyes as though uneasy and said nothing.
I’ve realized that this is a psychological weak point for my parents because of the burden placed on me and my sister over the school transfer. The words worked better than I thought. My parents’ rant about stopping the game was over.
It had been a month since I started The World, or in other words, since Yasuhiko became comatose.
Besides playing the game, I surfed the Internet to gather information. I tried to find out more about the word “fragment” that Mr. Tokuoka mentioned.
But I didn’t learn anything in great detail.
I was only able to find out about superficialities. This word probably referred to the prototype of The World called ‘fragment’. A beta version of The World, released three years prior in 2007. It was in operation for less than three months. It had 1024 players.
But when I was asked what it had to do with what was happening right now, I had no idea.
This was the limits of the Internet. The only way to go further was to actually take action and move around. Like Mr. Tokuoka.
I had no such luxury. After all, I was only a junior high school student who still had compulsory education. After studying each day, there wasn’t much time left to play a game.
“The right person in the right place,” Mr. Tokuoka had said.
That was certainly true.
I had to do what I and only I could do.
The immediate problem was that my parents were becoming skeptical about me.
They started telling me that they don’t like me spending so much of my time in the game.
“It seems like you’re playing on the computer very late at night,” my father said. “You don’t have to keep playing all night. It’s just a game.”
“Have you been studying? Don’t you relax after tests?” said my mother. “It’s an important time, so study carefully.”
I think they said it was because of a jump in the electricity bills. I think they felt sorry about it, but I was dumbfounded by their manner of speaking, as though I was being gradually encircled and constricted.
I couldn’t help but choose my words carefully.
“Everyone is playing it. If I don’t stay up a little late, I won’t be able to keep up with the latest news,” I said innocently. “It’s hard to adjust to a whole new class.”
They averted their eyes as though uneasy and said nothing.
I’ve realized that this is a psychological weak point for my parents because of the burden placed on me and my sister over the school transfer. The words worked better than I thought. My parents’ rant about stopping the game was over.
