Chapter 70: A Strange Strategy

Within a small room on the sixteenth floor, countless people stood together, encircling a single man. Before him lay a calendar.

“Ahem, I imagine everyone present knows what day it is,” the man’s voice was low and resonant.

The crowd remained silent, patiently waiting for his next words.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to the complete scan by Akihiko Kayaba, everyone here appears exactly as they do outside. Moreover, you are all frontline members of the clearing group. We should have been revered, but no matter how high our levels or how strong we are, limited resources in the game have left each of us single.” He looked around; everyone’s expressions were stiff. Not all truly desired a girlfriend, but on this day, discomfort was inevitable.

“And who caused all this? That’s right, Akihiko Kayaba. Even if we can’t defeat him yet, we can’t let ourselves be mocked by those blessed with happiness. Therefore, I propose we move to clear the sixteenth floor—” At this, the crowd erupted. Yet, as he was one of the core members of the clearing group, and all present had benefited from his help in some way, they decided to listen further.

“After much effort, I’ve finally crafted equipment suited for us. Of course, only those who join our organization can obtain it.” He produced a set of armor with a hood and various weapons.

Most names were “Executioner’s Robe” and “Executioner’s Scythe”; everyone recognized it as a set, and all pieces were grade B.

“So, what are the requirements for joining? If it’s you, I’ll consider it as long as it’s not too excessive.” They trusted Lance’s character, so they asked him.

“Take a look.” He handed each person an envelope, words written in bright red paint.

After reading, one immediately declared, “I’m in!” The others glanced around and nodded, “We’re in too!”

“Welcome to the fold.” Everyone donned their new coats.

――――――――――
On the streets of the supply point outside the sixteenth floor
――――――――――

It was Valentine’s Day, and the ever-considerate Akihiko Kayaba had even offered a concession: aside from the boss, all wild monsters were now non-aggressive, allowing couples to enjoy their time together without worry.

It should have been a warm, pleasant day. Yet…

“Burn them!” “Burn them!” “Burn them!”...

A group clad in purple robes suddenly appeared in the peaceful town, causing couples to instinctively scatter.

Under the watchful eyes of all, these people vanished into the town.

“Who are they? NPCs?” The thought wasn’t unreasonable—no player group had ever achieved such uniformity.

――――――――――
Gathering point before the boss gate
――――――――――

“Everyone! While those people immerse themselves in false joy, we have awakened! For the liberation of all players trapped in this game, we pledge everything! We swear, by a blood pact, to clear this place!” Lance, now wearing a purple hood, spoke in a voice unrecognizable; his identity no longer mattered.

“By a blood pact, we swear!”

“By a blood pact, we swear!”

“By a blood pact, we swear!”

Countless players, dressed identically, stood below Lance, shouting in unison.

Unbeknownst to them, others were hidden outside the boss room.

“What the hell’s going on?” A helmeted middle-aged man whispered to his companion.

“How should I know? They look impressive, though. Do you think they plan to clear the boss with just twenty people? The clearing group has only about fifty members. Are they part of the clearing group? But that can’t be—the clearing group shouldn’t have so many single guys.” If Lance and the others heard this, they might cough up blood in frustration.

They counted the group—twenty-three in all. Although no players had been lost on the previous floor, fifty-four frontline players had participated for a flawless victory. Now, seeing so few charge into the boss room, they broke out in cold sweat. After all, in this death game, except for the infamous red players, everyone helped each other, never knowing who would face hardship next.

But what they saw through the doors was not the brutal battle they expected.

――――――――――
Opening battle
――――――――――

When Lance led the group inside, they found a green-skinned orc boss sitting in the center, holding an axe, accompanied by a clearly female green-skinned orc.

“……”

After a deadly silence, everyone erupted.

“Damn it! Even the boss has company today, and we don’t? Why must we be alone?” One purple-coated, sword-wielding man muttered as if broken, but it was hardly an isolated case; others were descending into darkness as well.

“Ha! I feel fantastic today—really fantastic!”

“Why! Oh gods!”

From whispered laments to outright hysteria, everyone suddenly lost control. Once the fuse was lit, a brutal brawl ensued.

――――――――――
Showdown
――――――――――

“Let them witness the might of our ‘Inquisition of Heresy’!” With a sweep of his massive scythe, Lance signaled the attack. At his command, everyone surged forward nearly twenty percent faster than usual, charging the boss.

Though all seemed half-mad, the clearing group retained their basic reflexes; no one resorted to using their own bodies to block attacks for relief. Everyone unleashed their power from the start. Normally, only when the boss was pushed to the alert threshold did they go all out, as it consumed much energy. Now, disregarding what might happen after, they fought with reckless abandon, almost exhausting themselves in the most ferocious battle.

It usually took twenty minutes to push the boss below the alert line, but this time, they completed the task in only ten.

When the boss reached the alert threshold, it began its own frenzy, its massive axe glowing red. The female orc, once on the sidelines, rushed into the fray.

“Brothers! This guy dares to provoke us with his girlfriend—show them the price of challenging us!” Lance, holding his scythe overhead, shouted.

“Burn them!”

“Burn them!”

“Burn them!”

Morale soared to its peak again. Everyone gripped their weapons and charged. “Die!” The first man who had muttered earlier led the assault, his sword deflecting the boss’s axe, then another plunged a sword into the boss’s chest. The rest followed in a furious charge.

――――――――――
Spectator’s view
――――――――――

The helmeted man watched, dumbfounded, as the purple-robed group, led by the man wielding the scythe, erected a massive cross, using special items to restrain the boss. They bound the orc, its health bar barely remaining, to the cross. To prevent any action, someone kept spearing the boss, apparently to keep it paralyzed, though its health never changed—suggesting the weapon had paralysis but minimal damage.

Then the ritual began.

“Chief of the Orcs, I hereby pronounce you guilty. Death sentence!” A small wooden hammer struck.

The one atop the cross lit the pyre beneath.

The man and his companion watched the farce, stupefied. Yet the man couldn’t help but comment, “What’s the reason? Even a death sentence needs justification.”

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