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Infinite Dendrogram - Volume 7 - Chapter 3




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Chapter Three: The Real Ichiro Shijima 
The Tale of a Certain Man 
As I’ve already mentioned, Ichiro Shijima is one of our adherents. 
Although young Louie does not recall it, Lady Tsukuyo and I met his family awhile ago. After all, Mr. Shijima was the leader of The Lunar Society’s battle unit. We even went to congratulate him after he married Mrs. Farica. 
Now then, of course we know of Mr. Shijima’s current whereabouts. But before I reveal them to you, I must tell you about everything else. From the beginning to the end. 
First, allow me to tell you of The Lunar Society’s origin. 
Now now, patience, please. No need for anger. I assure you, this is relevant. We cannot omit it if we wish to talk about where he is now. 
Now, I’m certain Fujibayashi already knows this, but The Lunar Society was founded nearly a century ago, in postwar Japan. At the time, Lady Tsukuyo’s ancestor and the person who would go on to become the founder of The Lunar Society, Master Gessei Fuso, was working as a doctor. 
As you surely know, the postwar period was a very dark time. People lacked the materials they needed to recover from the damage, and death was with them at every step. 
Some had battle wounds that grew more severe with every passing day, some became ill due to malnutrition, some turned mentally or emotionally ill and attempted suicide, and some were even worse. In a word, it was “hellish.” 
Master Gessei is said to have been a kindly doctor who treated people regardless of profit. 
That, of course, attracted many patients to him, many of which brought even more death. Countless people lost their lives. Even those who could’ve been saved in optimal circumstances died because of a lack of food or medicine. 
Eventually, he came to notice the abject despair in many of their eyes. 
Some say that “health is a state of mind,” and if there is any truth to that, then the patients had a terminal illness. Their hearts were as good as dead. 
Being the doctor that he was, Master Gessei spent a lot of time pondering how to help them. 
At the very least, he wanted to give them hope. 
Sadly, it was an age when there just weren’t enough material goods to remove their illnesses or hunger — the cause of their despair. Japan would need more time until it was back on its feet. 
So, he figured that, if there was no hope here, he had to envision a different world. Even if the material world couldn’t save them, he could still try to save their hearts. 
“Escape the shackles of flesh and betake yourself to the true world of souls. Embrace this free world and celebrate your liberty to your soul’s content.” 
As you are aware, those are our teachings. Those teachings are what started The Lunar Society. 
Our doctrine tells people that even if their bodies are impaired, their souls are always free to dream of a world where they’re unbound. 
It was pure escapism. An idea based in fantasy, if not delusion. But even so, it made people think in terms their souls... effectively keeping their minds from yielding. 
Indeed, our teachings can be rephrased as “Let’s feel good by thinking of nice things.” Many call it cult-like, but that’s all it is. It’s no different from modern mental health seminars. 
Admittedly, the economic progress over the past century has turned Japan into a wealthy nation, and it’s hard to fault anyone for calling us a cult. Eventually, we gathered not only patients who had lost all hope, but also youths who were pessimistic about their futures. 
Being the current spiritual leader, Lady Tsukuyo often worries if the foundation presented by Master Gessei suits the modern world. Things have changed a lot over the years, after all. 
Eh? 
“If she’s worried about her cult’s state, she should reconsider kidnapping people, you say? 
That’s unavoidable, I’m afraid. Lady Tsukuyo’s personality and disposition as a woman are a different matter than her worries. 
The way I see it, she wishes to have someone she has taken a liking to at her side. Ha ha ha! You’re right. Truly, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a bother to you, Mukudori. 
Back to the matter at hand... 
Even after founding The Lunar Society, the Fuso family continued to run a hospital. On the surface, it had nothing to do with our organization. Additionally, it specialized in something different from most hospitals. 
The term for it was “terminal care.” 
It operated with the purpose of caring for those ailed by the worst of illnesses and letting them live out their final days in peace. But of course, if it was possible, we never neglected to focus on prolonging the patients’ lives or curing them altogether. 
Mr. Ichiro Shijima was one of the hospital’s patients. 
Before you make any assumptions, we did not urge him to join us in his moment of weakness — he was already an adherent before his disease worsened, and when it did, he was taken to the hospital. 
Indeed, we are not that dirty. The Lunar Society avoids doing anything that could get us arrested. Honest. 
“The fact that you’re emphasizing it makes you look suspicious,” you say? Please, there’s no need to think that. 
Anyway, let us go back to Mr. Shijima. 
He was suffering from an incurable disease that set a limit on his remaining lifetime. He had been ardently seeking a cure ever since he was young, but alas, he had no luck. 
Four years ago, our time, he joined The Lunar Society. He probably saw it as a good way to divert himself from his imminent death. 
“Wasn’t his family against it,” you ask? The circumstances of his upbringing are personal information we are not allowed to reveal, but we can tell you that he had no living relatives at the time of his joining. What matters is that he joined and became one of our adherents. 
We have a century of experience at diverting people, so I would like to believe we were able to ensure that his last four years weren’t burdened by fear of death. 
Yes, you heard it correctly. 
He joined us four years ago, when he had four years left to live. 
At the time, the present day was going to be his absolute limit. Oh, but two years ago, they discovered a means of curing his disease. However, it had only a 10% chance of success. 
It was the type of treatment that the body could vehemently reject, resulting in an instant death. 
Yes, he chose not to go through it back then. 
He was continuing to live through his final days, trying to divert himself from his upcoming death, when a certain turning point changed his life entirely. 
It was the release of Infinite Dendrogram. 
By the way, you two, where do you think the true value of VR lies? Oh no, I’m not trying to change the subject. This is an important preamble to what I am about to say. 
Well? What do you think? 
Of course, I’m not talking of failures like NEXT WORLD, but fully complete, dive-type dream games like Infinite Dendrogram. 
Yes. The best VR transfers the five senses to the virtual world. 
This means that even those whose bodies barely function can dive and experience being healthy as long as their brains and thoughts work as intended. 
Because of this, at the turn of the millennium, we at The Lunar Society began looking into and funding VR technology. It was another thing our patients and adherents could look forward to. It gave them hope. 
Of course, in the end, the perfected VR wasn’t any of those we financed, but one we knew next to nothing about — Infinite Dendrogram. 
...Oh, but that is unrelated to the matter at hand. 
By now, you can imagine just how much Mr. Shijima craved that. 
No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his end was drawing closer with every passing day. It was impossible for any of us to gauge his will to live and to feel alive. 
Now, since we were making sure to try out all of the VR technology on the market, we secured a number of devices from Infinite Dendrogram’s first batch. One of them was presented to Mr. Shijima. 
Thus, he logged in to Infinite Dendrogram and became the Master known as Ichiro Shijima, all for the purpose of escaping his limited days in reality and being free in the “true world of souls.” 
It released him from the distress of his fading life, the pain of the encroaching death, and the world with no hope for him. 
Having gained a vigorous body, special powers, and a sense of fulfillment that could never compare with anything he could gain in reality, he went on to live out his second life for all it was worth. It would not be wrong to state that he was more content than any of us. After all, he was given everything he had not been able to gain in his entire life. 
Having all but forgotten his state in reality, one day, he chanced upon a certain boy and his mother. They were overwhelmed by a horde of monsters — despair made manifest — and could do nothing but wait for death. 
The sight likely made him feel like he was looking at himself in real life. Or perhaps it reminded him of his late family. 
Whatever the case, Ichiro Shijima used his powers as a Master to save the mother and child. He, who could do nothing but await death, saved those two, who were in a similar situation. 
Though they had met by accident, to him, it was surely fate. 
He kept on interacting with them, and it wasn’t long before they became a real family. 
According to him, those days filled him with a warmth he had never felt before. 
Yes, those are his own words. Exactly as I heard them. 
After that, he went on to be blessed with a child, which was another thing he couldn’t experience here in the real world. The joy the news gave him was so immense that it made him remember himself on this side. 
He was half-dead by this point, kept alive only by various kinds of life support, and it would’ve been a great surprise if he had lived for more than two months longer. 
That was a mere half a year in Infinite Dendrogram. Needless to say, time was short for him. 
He would die without growing old with his wife, without watching his stepson mature... or even seeing the face of his real child. It made him remember despair. 
Words couldn’t describe the regret he most likely felt. 
However, it wasn’t enough to break him. He found new hope when he remembered the treatment he had once refused, and this time, he decided to take it. 
Of course, the illness had progressed since then. The chance of success had dropped, and it was a question whether it even reached 3% now. 
He needed a miracle for it to succeed. 
Even so, he was determined. 
Lady Tsukuyo and I both asked him, “Why?” 
He responded, “For a future where I live with my family.” 
Thus, he went on to return to reality and underwent the treatment. 
With that, the story ends. 
“How did it turn out?” you ask? 
You likely already know, Mukudori. 
Miracles are only miracles because of how infrequently they occur. 
 
Torne Village 
After parting with his friend, Louie began to walk back home. 
One of the festival’s main events, the Windstar Dance, would soon begin at the village’s plaza, and he wanted to go there with his mother. 
It was an event where families or lovers paired up and danced to their heart’s content. Many from the “other side” would call it a “folk dance.” 
Last year, Farica had danced with Shijima, while Louie had danced with Juno. Sadly, Gringham hadn’t had a creature to pair with — not to mention he was too big — so he’d ended up just watching the event. 
Remembering the somewhat-downhearted look on the lion’s face made Louie giggle. 
Then he remembered Shijima’s excited dancing as Farica led him. Combined with memories of Juno’s weird choreography, it brought a pleasant warmth to his heart. 
This year, however, Shijima wasn’t with them. That meant that neither Juno nor Gringham could be here, too, as they were his Embryo and mount. Farica, being pregnant, couldn’t dance, either. 
Even so, the Windstar Dance, and the rest of the festival in general, was an event that reminded Louie of the fun times with his family. 
If nothing else, he wanted to watch the dance along with his mother. Even if they couldn’t dance this year, he hoped that his whole family would be there next time: Farica, Shijima, Juno, Gringham, and his soon-to-be-born little brother or sister. 
“...Huh?” he exclaimed, stopping. Something strange was entering his vision. 
It was a mountain not too far from the village. A flash of light burst out of one of its corners, and a short while later, a black object broke out of there and rose towards the skies. 
It sounded a voice that could disturb the sanity of anyone listening. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
 
Paladin, Ray Starling 
Right after our talk with Tsukikage, we logged back in to Infinite Dendrogram. 
We’d talked for about 30 minutes, which was an hour and a half in the game. The Sun was still high up, and the festival still had a lot going for it. But neither I nor B3 were in any mood to enjoy it any further. 
“...” 
We were both completely silent. What we’d heard from Tsukikage was too damn grim. 
Louie was searching for his dad, while Farica was awaiting for her husband to return. But the cold, harsh truth was that they would never see Shijima again. 
“...This leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” I muttered. 
“Looking back on it, we could have predicted this when Farica suggested that we not search for him,” commented B3. “She already knew that Mr. Shijima was risking his life for something on the ‘other side.’ And the fact that he isn’t back yet... means she probably realizes what happened to him.” 
“...I guess so.” 
In Infinite Dendrogram, Masters were immortal. But back in reality, we were only human, as prone to death as any living creature. 
That was one of the harsh truths of life. 
“Even if she had a feeling he was dead,” B3 continued, “she could still believe he was alive somewhere as long as she didn’t know the answer. Farica likely chose to merely wait because she wished to keep that hope alive.” 
And that was exactly why she had been troubled by our accepting Louie’s request to search for Shijima. 

Farica’s feelings weren’t unlike those of someone whose loved one had gone missing in some calamity or accident. As long as the body wasn’t found, she could keep hoping he was alive. 
This reminded me of the time when the ship my sister was on had sunk in the Pacific Ocean. When I was told her death was all but certain, I’d cried my eyes out. 
Then, after a whole lot of grieving from us, she’d returned back home with a cheery “Hellooo!” as if it were no big deal. 
When we’d asked her to explain her survival, shocked to see her... 
“Oh, I broke the wall of the sinking ship and swam around in the Pacific Ocean until I found another boat.” 
I just didn’t know what to make of her. Her existence was an enigma. 
That was only barely related to the matter at hand, but thinking of my sister lifted my spirits a bit. 
“What shall we do, then, Ray?” asked B3. 
“Well, we have to decide whether to tell it to them or not...” I said, and sighed. Regardless of whether I did or didn’t reveal Mr. Shijima’s fate to them, it’d still give me a bad aftertaste. 
Both telling them the horrible news and hiding the truth from them were options that made me feel bitter, but... 
I steeled myself. “I’ll tell them.” 
“Are you sure?” B3 asked. 
“...Yes. If we don’t tell them, they’ll never learn the truth. Mr. Shijima’s fate will be shrouded in darkness for the rest of their lives.” 
If we didn’t reveal it, they would never be able to properly part with him. They would forever be bound by the question of his whereabouts. 
“It’ll leave a bad taste in my mouth, it’s cruel, and they’ll probably resent me for it, but... but still, it’s something that must be done.” 
Despite my resolve, the fact that I would have to tell them of Mr. Shijima’s death made my body shake. 
It scared me. The idea of giving them despair frightened me to no end. 
“If that is what you choose, then it’s probably for the best,” B3 said. 
“B3?” I raised an eyebrow. 
“You should be the one to decide this. I am not nearly as considerate of NPCs... tians... as you are.” She looked to the festival off in the distance. Both tians and Masters alike were thoroughly enjoying the festivities. “I am what they call a ‘ludo.’ To me, this is nothing but a game.” 
I was silent. 
“Same goes for tians,” she said. “In my eyes, they are merely highly advanced AIs. If it had been up to me alone, I never would have even answered the request. Learning the truth, I would likely have disappeared from their sight, never actually deciding whether to reveal it or not. But now...” 
She momentarily fell silent and looked right into my eyes. 
“But now, right here, I see someone who outclasses every player I know in terms of consideration for tians. You see them as lives, grieve for them, and sympathize with them.” 
She walked over to me and gently held my shaking hand. 
“So please, don’t be afraid of your decision. There’s no Master who cares for them as much as you do.” 
Her encouraging words had caused my trembling to fade. 
“B3,” I muttered. “Thank you.” 
“A good senior helps her junior,” she smiled in response. 
Thanks to her, I was now ready. It was time to go and tell them. To reveal to them the truth about— 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
A maddened cackle suddenly resounded around us. It was akin to the sound of scraping glass, but it came out as laughter of the purest ridicule. 
“What?!” I exclaimed and looked to where it came from — the skies above a nearby mountain. 
There, I saw a— 
 
Torne Village, Outskirts 
A few minutes earlier... 
“Shit! The assholes at SolCri cost us a bunch of money! We’ve gotta find something to make up for it!” 
Ten-odd Masters were inside a mountain not far from Torne. 
A group of them stood out, as they all had mohawks. They were the same Mohawk League members who’d faced off against Sol Crisis back at the festival. One of them was vigorously swinging a pickaxe, while another one heaved a tired sigh and spoke up. 
“Hhhhaaa... but it’s not like we’ll find the UBM, right? The story is hundreds of years old, and people say that no one’s found anything in the last two years. And hell, it’s not like we can win against a UBM.” 
In response, the vigorous mohawk put up an indomitable smile. “Heh heh heh, I’m not going for anything that big. I just want the meteor!” 
“The meteor?” 
“Don’t you know? In manga and light novels, the meteoric iron you get from meteors is a super strong weapon material. That has to be the same in Dendro.” 
“Ahh, I see. Even if the UBM is gone, the meteor that hit the creature should still be there.” 
“Exactly! So let’s keep digging!” 
“All right, all right.” 
Thus, they resumed their mining activities. 
What they failed to realize was that, if the meteor had been large, all the villages around here would’ve been obliterated, meaning that the one from the story had to have been small. Even if they kept digging, they would leave empty-handed and return to the festival to try and lift their spirits. 
Or so things would have gone, except... they were making a wrong assumption. 
The thing they thought had disappeared was still there. 
The thing buried beneath, now awakened by the meager amount of light, had realized that there were “torches” above it. 
Not only that, but the “torches” it had drastically reduced 300 years ago had increased to incomparably great numbers. 
Upon the moment of awakening, it hadn’t had the power to escape to the surface. Since then, it had done nothing but wait while consuming the meager amount of light reaching it. 
But its wait was now over. 
Having absorbed enough light to regain some of its power, it recovered enough strength to escape to the surface. 
“? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
It extended a tentacle upwards — towards the crack leaking light into its tomb. 
Having transformed all the light it gathered into MP, it used the crystalline protrusion at the end of it to fire a heat ray reaching thousands of degrees in temperature. 
It hit the mark exactly, melting the bedrock and widening the hole to the surface. 
That wasn’t all. On its way, it hit the unenthusiastic mohawk Master, piercing him through the crotch to the top of his head, instantly evaporating him and giving him the death penalty. 
The Master didn’t even have a chance to realize what happened, and his friend wasn’t quick enough to even notice, much less help. All he saw was his vanishing friend and the melting bedrock. 
A moment later, it flew out through the hole. 
It was a cracked, non-reflective crystal ball with a three metel diameter. It had black wings of an undefined shape. It had a set of four permeable tentacles with crystalline protrusions at the end. 

 


It had no organs that could be used to express emotion... and yet it cackled.> 
It had no mouth or anything that made up a face, and yet its crystalline body creaked out maddened laughter. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
It spread its dark wings and absorbed all the light that reached it, instantly restoring its MP reserves. 
It became rejuvenated and overjoyed at the same time. 
After all, there were so, so many “torches” here. 
It was as happy and pure as a child about to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. 
“Attack!” one of the nearby Masters shouted. 
They had yet to realize what it really was, but they had more than enough reason to believe it was a danger and try to stop it with their skills and Embryos. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
But before they could do anything, it flew up. Up and up, higher and higher... 
Ignoring all below, it rose to what seemed like thousands of metels above ground, if not more. Eventually, it passed the troposphere and arrived at the stratosphere. 
To those below, it was nothing but a dot at this point. 
“Did it just... run away?” asked one of the Masters. 
The rest of them thought the same. 
From there, the monster couldn’t harm them, nor could they attack it. They assumed the monster had felt cornered and escaped as high as it could. 
But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 
Suddenly, there was a flash of light from high above, and a few seconds later, one of the Masters on the surface was set aflame. His hair, the oil of his skin, the clothes on his back were engulfed in ultra-hot fire. 
He stopped, dropped, and rolled to try and put it out, but since both his equipment and flesh were melting, that was far from enough, and he soon received the death penalty. 
The sight made the other Masters tremble and look up at the sky. 
“Eh?” 
“No way... From there?!” 
It reminded them of what they’d heard at the play. 
But no sword or arrow could reach the heights it was in. Some even tried to challenge it atop flying dragons, but not even those large wings could take them high enough. 
That play was the very reason why they were here. The words they’d heard there had inspired them to mine this mountain. 
However, they had slightly underestimated Blacksky’s altitude. 
Still, no one could fault them for that, as expecting this would be insanity. After all, what madman could imagine a UBM that has an offensive ability with a range of 10,000 metels and uses it to one-sidedly attack from high up in the atmosphere? 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
Safe from all harm, the creature spread its dark wings even further and consumed all sunlight shining on the planet, effectively turning day into night. 
As it ate the light, it used its supreme vision to look at the surface and light the “torches” below. 
The heat ray it fired distorted the air around it as it reached the ground and set another Master aflame. 
The sight brought it great joy. 
Of course it did. 
After all, it liked watching the “torches” burn. 
Indeed, that was the one thing the play always got wrong. It didn’t consume the light from the “torches.” Sun and starlight was more than enough to give it the energy it required. 
As an entity that ate only light and survived with just that, it had no need to harm any creatures living below. 
But it enjoyed burning the “torches.” 
The sight of them burning, writhing, and dying always brought it great glee. 
After all, that was its sole hobby. 
“? ? ? ? ? ??” 
Suddenly, it started to wonder. 
If the creature had been human, the thought would have been something like this: 
“This” has burned so much of them. But they don’t burn like the “torches” “this” likes. There’s not enough writhing and despair. Hey, but why? Why? 
The Masters’ sense of pain was disabled, so the agony of burning alive wasn’t there. And it wasn’t like they actually died, so their despair wasn’t that great, either. 
It didn’t like that at all. 
The torches with the funny patterns on the left hands are boring, it thought. “This” has to burn the torches without them. 
It looked over the land below and instantly found what it was looking for. 
The lively festival at Torne, bustling with tians. 
 
The disaster that had once attacked Torne arose from its 300 year sleep and once again set its sights on the village. 
Its name was “Void of the Black Sky, Monochrome.” 
It was an Ancient Legendary UBM... and a creature that suspended itself in a domain none could reach. 
 





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