Shouichi turned toward the entrance, pulled out a specialized set of lockpicking tools, and inserted them into the keyhole. After working the mechanism with practiced dexterity for a few moments, he spoke up.
"We're in. The lock is clear."
Trembling with a sickening surge of euphoric anticipation, Spiegel let out a breathless laugh. "Awesome! That was way easier than I expected."
"Alright, let's fall back."
"Wait, aren't you going to lock the door behind us?" Kyouji asked, a natural point of concern.
Shouichi shrugged it off with total indifference. "No need. He'll just assume he forgot to lock it himself when he left."
"Yeah, true. The guy's an idiot anyway," Spiegel sneered, his voice dripping with absolute condescension. Now that his prey was completely cornered and victory was guaranteed, a toxic sense of superiority had begun to take root in his psyche.
"Let's get back and finalize the preparations. We refrained from holding the chemical compounds in our possession up until now to avoid leaving a paper trail, but the restriction is officially lifted. We need to pay a visit to Father's hospital."
"Right. Let's move as quickly as possible."
The following day, under the false pretense of visiting their father—who served as the hospital director—the brothers successfully managed to secure the specific pharmaceutical compound they required: Succinylcholine, a potent neuromuscular blocking agent more commonly referred to in modern medicine as Suxamethonium. Because Shouichi had meticulously mapped out the security protocols and storage locations beforehand, the entire theft went off without a hitch.
"That went perfectly, Brother."
"Yeah. They like to pretend they run a state-of-the-art facility, but their internal security is a joke."
Later that evening, the brothers logged in and met up with Noir to report their operational success.
"Did you confirm XeXeeD's address?" Noir demanded.
"Flawlessly. Brother and I conducted a thorough sweep, and we managed to pinpoint the exact location. It's a perfect match."
"Excellent. That is spectacular news!"
With the real-world logistics finalized, the three conspirators began assembling the final pieces of their virtual arsenal. They selected a terrifying, cowled mask equipped with lenses that glowed an ominous, blood-red hue. For the mantle, they utilized a high-end Metamaterial Optical Distortion Camouflage Cloak, allowing the user to vanish into thin air at a moment's notice. Strapped to the waist was a specialized 'Silent Assassin' sniper rifle alongside the infamous 'Black Star' pistol, completed by an Ikoma-forged estock.
Thus, the iconic, dread-inducing silhouette of Sterben was officially complete.
Because the three of them intended to take turns operating the avatar, the final, crucial component was a voice-changing modulation device. Fortunately, they easily acquired an official, system-sanctioned item originally manufactured by the developers for special events.
"How does the visual profile look?" Shouichi asked, adjusting the cloak.
"Perfect," Kyouji confirmed, examining the avatar. "Neither the voice modulation nor the physical movements leave any room for distinction. It's completely seamless."
"Excellent. That ensures any one of us can pilot the avatar without breaking the illusion."
"The stage is set," Kyouji breathed, his eyes gleaming. "Death Gun is finally ready to make its grand debut."
"A shot from this gun brings absolute death... A simple but terrifyingly effective moniker," Atsushi laughed darkly. "Let me reiterate the absolute conditions of our execution protocol one last time. Anyone targeted by this weapon must be permanently eliminated. For our very first target, XeXeeD, we will execute the theatrical display of shooting the monitor in-game. But moving forward, the absolute condition for a kill requires the physical player to be injected simultaneously while the avatar is shot directly with this 'Black Star.' Therefore, if we cannot secure a physical vector of attack, we do not shoot them in-game. If we do not possess their real-world address, this handgun is never to be unholstered. Is that absolutely understood?"
The warning was directed squarely at Spiegel, who nodded in solemn, intense agreement.
"Hell yeah. Genuine, high-stakes Player Killing is back on the menu. It's showtime."
"Yeah... It really has been far, far too long," Sterben murmured, his voice laced with a profound, unhinged sentimentality as he looked toward Noir. "I truly hope our old Leader is watching us from wherever he is."
"Yeah. Me too."
And then, the fated day finally arrived. Precisely at the scheduled hour, the avatars of XeXeeD, Yamikaze, and Musketeer X materialized on the massive broadcast screens scattered throughout the central plaza of GGO. With Thinker serving as the master of ceremonies, the highly anticipated four-man roundtable discussion officially began.
"How are the parameters looking?"
"I'll log out briefly to verify the physical alignment," Noir transmitted back.
"Keep it tight."
Crouched in the shadowy, neglected corner of the crowded plaza beneath the colossal broadcast monitor, Sterben—piloted by Shouichi—relayed the command through their encrypted communication channel. Noir, who was currently filming the crowds gathering in front of the monitors using a restricted, private streaming mode, swiftly logged out to ensure the feed was transmitting flawlessly to Kyouji's terminal in the real world.
"How's the feed, Kyouji? Are you receiving it?"
"Crystal clear, Atsushi-san. I can track Brother's movements perfectly on the screen."
"Do not miscalculate the timing. The absolute second Shouichi fires the shot inside the game, you execute the injection in the real world."
"Understood. Leave it to me."
For the sole purpose of ensuring absolute precision tonight, Kyouji had gone so far as to purchase the exact same lock model as the one installed on XeXeeD's front door, spending countless hours practicing rapid, silent entry protocols. His meticulous training had paid off flawlessly; Kyouji was already silently crouching inside the shadows of XeXeeD's actual apartment room. Suppressing the frantic racing of his heart, he waited in absolute, breathless silence for the fated moment to arrive.
"So, you're XeXeeD's real-world container, huh? Just you wait... I'm about to send you straight to hell," Kyouji whispered, his eyes fixed venomously on the oblivious, unmoving form of the young man sitting in his dive chair.
Meanwhile, Atsushi re-established his connection to GGO, and the real-time perspective of Sterben's avatar began streaming back onto Kyouji's handheld terminal.
As the broadcast audio echoed softly through the terminal speaker, Kyouji stood waiting in the dim apartment room. His eyes casually scanned the cluttered space until they abruptly caught on a solitary notebook resting upon the desk. Though Shouichi had strictly forbidden him from touching anything inside the room to avoid leaving physical evidence—regardless of the gloves he wore—the bold letters spelling out "GGO" across the notebook's cover proved to be an irresistible siren song for Kyouji's intense curiosity. Unable to contain himself, he stepped forward, picked up the notebook, and flipped it open.
"Whoa... The guy actually takes the game incredibly seriously..." Kyouji muttered under his breath, genuinely stunned by the density of the contents.
The pages were packed with an immense wealth of meticulously documented data: optimal mob-hunting routing strategies, exhaustive side-by-side weapon performance metrics, and highly detailed topographical maps of the old capital ruins from the previous war. It was a chaotic, unpolished, yet incredibly raw and valuable compilation of high-level gameplay data.
But as Kyouji flipped closer to the final pages of the journal, his eyes suddenly widened in sheer, unadulterated shock at the text written before him.
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