Looking down at the NERvGear helmet in his hands, Seiya hung up the call and let out a long sigh.
He wasn't particularly swayed by his friend Kirigaya Kazuto's passionate sales pitch about SAO.
Full-dive immersion, sword skills identical to real life, powerful monsters and enemies to sharpen one's kendo—all of these so-called "advantages" were what Kazuto had been raving about just moments ago.
"That guy Kazuto really hyped the game up like it's the best thing ever. Sure, it might be a great game… but the danger is real too. After all, this 'death game' is literally played with your life on the line."
And the reason Seiya said this was simple—he wasn't a native of this world, but a transmigrator.
Which meant he knew exactly what was going to happen.
On the day of SAO's official launch, a certain madman obsessed with his dream would trap 9,500 players inside, turning it into a genuine death game.
As a transmigrator who already knew the story, Seiya could have easily avoided the danger.
Unlike other protagonists blessed with world-breaking powers, he had nothing supernatural. But in a modern society like this, with his achievements and grades, a stable future as a successful professional was practically guaranteed.
Even if he didn't want to work, he could just inherit the family dojo and live comfortably enough.
That was, in fact, Seiya's original plan—he even thought about convincing Kazuto not to dive in.
After all, knowing there was mortal danger and still jumping into the pit? That would just be plain idiotic.
But just as Seiya was about to intervene in the story, the ever-classic system suddenly appeared.
At first, Seiya was thrilled. He thought his already charmed life had just been upgraded once again.
But then came the bad news: the system was only half-activated. It had appeared this time solely to warn him not to recklessly mess with the story.
According to the system, Seiya could alter events, but he was not advised to shake the foundation of the world.
To put it simply: the world of Sword Art Online was fundamentally built around SAO itself.
If Kirito never entered the game, then the world's foundation would be destabilized, possibly even leading to collapse.
It would be like a Yu-Gi-Oh world without cards—or without duelists. With the very essence of the world missing, the world itself would cease to exist.
And if the world collapsed, Seiya—as part of it—would perish too.
After hearing this warning, Seiya decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and gave up on the idea of trying to stop the story from unfolding.
It was simple logic: letting Kirito dive into the death game was risky, yes—but as the "child of the world," Kirito had an extremely high chance of survival.
But if Seiya stopped him, the world itself would unravel, and then everyone would be finished.
That said, as long as Kirito entered SAO, the foundation of the world would hold—even if Seiya himself stayed out of danger.
But then came the system's second message:
To fully activate the system, Seiya had to join Kirito in the death game and complete the prerequisite mission.
It wasn't mandatory—the choice was his.
Accept the mission and unlock the system's full power, or refuse and live on as an outstanding but ordinary man of this world.
Seiya wrestled with the decision for a long time before settling on an answer.
His hesitation was natural. SAO was a real death game. Ten thousand entered, and thousands never came back out.
He wasn't Kirito, the chosen one. Fearing for his own life was only human.
But after days of consideration, Seiya ultimately chose to take the gamble.
"Hell, I'm already a transmigrator. If I just lie around like dried-up salted fish, won't I drag down the average standard of transmigrators everywhere?"
Besides, SAO was a full-dive VR game. With his real-world kendo skills, he'd no doubt be a high-level player inside.
And with his close ties to Kirito, even if he wasn't the protagonist, he would at least be part of the main cast—and characters like that didn't die so easily.
After careful thought, Seiya decided it was worth it.
Sure, he could grow up to be a successful professional, but at the end of the day, he'd just be another high-ranking corporate drone.
Now he had a chance to carve his own legend, and the risks were within control. Why refuse?
With the NERvGear helmet secured, Seiya took the train home.
But as he arrived at his dojo, he noticed someone waiting at the entrance.
It was a cute girl with shoulder-length black hair, dressed in a sailor school uniform.
She was tiptoeing, trying to peek inside the dojo—only for Seiya, who had just approached, to cough loudly in mock reminder.
"Ahem, ahem. I don't recall Suguha being the type to peek into other people's houses. Right now, you're giving me serious 'pervert stalker… no, stalker-girl' vibes."
Caught off guard, Kirigaya Suguha nearly stumbled in shock.
But Seiya quickly caught her before she fell, saving her from letting her rear hit the ground.
"Seiya-nii, you're back already? That just now—no, listen, it's not what it looks like! I'm not some creep. I called out for a long time, but no one answered. I tried calling, but your line was always busy.
Mama made some little cakes, so I thought I'd bring them over for you to try, and then…"
Her hands waved frantically in protest, her face flustered as she rushed to explain herself, desperate to clear away the "pervert" label Seiya had just teased her with.
(End of Chapter)