"Motherfucker!"
Drifter looked over his shoulder to see Klein holding a gash on his arm and swearing up a storm.
One unexpected consequence of the insertion of pain to SAO had been the drastic increase in cursing by the frontliners.
"Sorry, boss! But you did stab me earlier."
Kunimittz apologized, by Klein waved him off.
"It was my mistake. Just not used to it still."
Two days after beating the 50th floor, the Assault Team had moved from simply getting used to pain again to full-on sparring. But somehow, it still caught them with their pants down sometimes.
There was a massive difference between fighting with pain and without it. That didn't exactly come as a shock to anyone, but it didn't mean it was any easier to adapt.
Even though the sensation was reduced right now, the frontliners struggled to combat the body memory they had constructed during their two years in SAO.
But they had to. The inclusion of pain wasn't so simple as learning to endure it. It modified their entire fighting style. After all, a cut on the arm hurt a lot less than a spear through the guts or a slash across the eyes.
Drifter knew that from personal experience. He had been dueling with Ran when she cut his arm and he, slowed down by the pain, didn't manage to block her next attack from piercing through his lower abdomen and all the way out his back.
His fellow Reaver had apologized profusely, but the spearmaster didn't accept it. It was no one's fault but his own for not being attentive enough.
Even so, there was something to be said about the grit and resolve of frontliners, that, still with a day left in the deadline Drifter had set, they had already moved on to all-out duels, and not one of them had asked for a break.
"Again."
Heathcliff in particular was proving to be quite the quartermaster. He never raised his voice, but he had this way of motivating his subordinates that put them ahead of the rest of the Assault Team in terms of adaptation.
Drifter met Heathcliff's gaze and nodded respectfully to the other guild leader. Their personal differences aside, the Holy Sword was a pilar of the Assault Team, much like Drifter himself.
"Alright, that's enough! Good work everyone!"
The sun was setting, and it was time to rest. Now, more than ever, Drifter was acutely aware of the psychological burden each frontliner carried.
He clapped his hands and caught the attention of the Assault Team. For now, very few clearers had taken Drifter up on his offer to climb to the tower to get to the 51st floor, preferring to wait until the teleporter was officially unlocked, so it was mostly just frontliners in the safe zone, all staring at him now.
"Go eat, drink, and rest. Tomorrow, at the discretion of your guild leaders, we'll move out of the safe zone to explore the surrounding maps, and, most of all, get used to fighting mobs again."
Drifter's gaze jumped from Klein to Orlando to Lind to Ambros, and to all the other high-ranking frontliners.
"We are all proud of you. And we couldn't have asked for better men and women to fight alongside with. Good night."
As far as speeches went, it wasn't the most inspiring. But it came from the heart, and that was what mattered the most to frontliners.
After all, some had joined the Assault Team for the riches and glory. But that wasn't why they stayed.
"Going to turn in too, Drifter?"
Asuna came up behind him, giving his shoulder a friendly tap. The spearmaster stretched and yawned.
"Tempted. But I need to talk to Argo first. Probably do that while we eat."
Asuna winced in sympathy.
"I heard the other players haven't exactly been content with SAO's newest... Update."
Drifter snorted. That was an understatement if he had ever heard one.
"That's putting it lightly. But all they've done for now is talk, so I'm just grateful for it. Little rat's gonna fill me in to anything important. Shouldn't be too long."
"Well, good luck. I'm getting dinner and then taking a long bath."
Drifter threw his friend a side-eyed glance.
"Y'know, you and Kirito could come too if you want? You are technically my vice-leaders."
Asuna waved her hand.
"Bath, Drifter. A long, long bath."
The spearmaster chuckled and bumped her shoulder with his. He hadn't expected any different.
"Enjoy it. And don't you and Kirito do anything I wouldn't do."
"Drifter!"
The fencer blushed bright red and swatted his shoulder. Drifter dodged, laughing, and ran away to join Yuna and Nautilus, who were waiting for him to the side.
"What did you do now, dummy?"
His wife shook her head in exasperation, which only made Drifter laugh louder. Nautilus hid a smirk from his spot next to her.
"Knowing him? Found another way to tease Asuna. I would be more careful with that now, Drifter. It's gonna hurt when she eventually explodes and stabs you."
The spearmaster snorted.
"It will be worth it. Probably."
"Probably. Ah, dummy. What am I supposed to do with you?"
"Love me?"
Drifter gave Yuna a cheeky grin and planted a kiss on her cheek. She flushed and gave him a coy smile in return, rolling her eyes but not denying it.
"Aaaand I'm already getting PDA'ed. Where's my girlfriend when I need her?"
"You know as well as we do that when we split custody, it was agreed we got you for 3 nights a week, Naut. Now let's go, Argo's already messaging me."
The trio made their way through the safe zone, exchanging light-hearted jokes and playful jabs.
Argo had already ordered when they arrived at the restaurant, and Drifter plopped down next to her, shamelessly stealing some kind of friend potato stick from her plate.
"Hey!"
"How are you, little rat. Oh, this is good! What's it?"
"French Fries Aincrad-style. And it's mine, ya thief! Get yer paws away from it!"
Argo pulled her plate out of reach and cradled her arms around it protectively, mock-snarling at Drifter. The spearmaster pouted.
"Aw, c'mon, little rat. Just one more, pretty please?"
"Mine!"
The back and forth continued, with Drifter trying to steal another fry and Argo snapping at his fingers. Nautilus and Yuna, sitting across from them, looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison.
"You two are like children."
"Hey! I am a child! What's Dri-bou's excuse?"
"I'm your big bro."
Drifter spoke through a full mouth of stolen food, and fondly ruffled her hair. Argo scoffed, but her lips curled upwards and she stopped fighting so hard to prevent him from taking her fries.
"How's things down below, little rat?"
After they had all ordered their own portions - of which Drifter had no doubt a lot of his would end up in Argo's plate as revenge - the spearmaster broached the subject they were meeting to discuss.
"Simmerin'. If ya had said a week instead of three days, you would've a revolt on your hands."
"A lot of dead players, more like. Damn fools."
Nautilus grumbled over the lip of his mug, a stormy expression on his face. Argo sighed.
"It's not like anyone thinks y'all are lyin', Nau-bou. But they also don't wanna believe either, 'cause it's scary, so the normal players are stuck between a rock and a hard place."
"They are gonna belive when it's them rolling on the ground in pain."
"Hopefully sooner than that. We'll leave a couple people at the teleporter for a week just to reinforce the warning."
"Dunno how much good that will do, Dri-bou. But better than nothin', I guess."
Inwardly, the spearmaster agreed. He took a large sip of his drink and shook his head.
"There's not much more we can do. The Assault Team can't order people around, it's not what we are. I was already way over the line when I blew my top at them in the plaza."
Instead of the comforting or snarky response - with Argo it was a fifty-fifty - he was expecting, Drifter saw the info-broker push her food around with her fork. His eyes narrowed.
"What is it, little rat?"
"Well... Someone floated an idea by me couple days ago."
Drifter didn't like the way she said it, nor how she kept looking at anywhere but him.
"What idea?"
"It's still immature. Needs a lotta refinement."
"Argo."
The info-broker cringed.
"Alright, okay. With ya frontliners gettin' farther and farther away from normal players, especially now that many are givin' up climbin' entirely 'cause of the pain... Well, y'all can't really keep an eye on things down under. And as good work as myself and Akari-chan do, we are also stretched thin. Trouble's gonna keep poppin' up and ya can't abandon the frontlines to clean it up each time. So someone proposed to me creatin' a sorta police force to patrol the lower floors. Stop another Laughin' Coffin from emergin', keep hot-heads from killin' each other, arrestin' orange players and stuff like that."
Drifter's initial reaction was to disagree immediately, because he could see how monumentally wrong that could go. But he held back, and thought of the benefits, which weren't few.
Argo was right. There was a limit to how much the Assault Team could do on top of their already time-consuming role of clearing SAO. And each time a new floor was added, there was more space for trouble to grow.
The spearmaster mulled over the proposal, exchanging silent conversations with Yuna and Nautilus through their gaze.
"Who would be part of that police force?"
"Well, volunteers, since we obviously ain't gonna be payin' 'em for it. But I was thinkin' high-level players who stopped climbin' for whatever reason. And if they ever start gettin' too big for their britches - that's when I call ya."
Drifter had to admit, the idea had merit. So why did Argo still look so damn unsure?
"What aren't you telling us, little rat?"
Argo bit her lip. She leaned back slightly as if already expecting an explosive reaction.
"Remember how I said the idea was proposed to me by someone?"
"Yeah?"
"That someone... Was Kibaou."
Drifter pointedly didn't shout in outrage, mostly because he was, at first, too stunned by the sheer absurdity of it, and then because, when his brain finally restarted, he remembered this was Argo he was talking to, and if she thought for even a moment that this was such a horrible idea as it seemed in his eyes, she wouldn't have brought it up in the first place.
So, instead, Drifter set down his mug while Yuna and Nautilus boggled at the info-broker, and stared right into her eyes.
"Why?"
Argo let out a bone-weary sigh, looking older than she had any right to be.
"I don't like spiky-head any more than ya, Dri-bou. But I've been keepin' an eye on him. He's stayed away from trouble, but he's still keepin' his level up to date. He's changed a lot since the 25th."
"What hasn't changed is that 70 people died. Because of him."
"Aye. And I'm not sayin' let him back on the Assault Team. Not now, not never. But there's north of 200 players who have the levels, and in some cases even the skill to be frontliners. But they don't got the courage for it, so they never will be. The 25th Massacre, Laughin' Coffin, the 50th floor and pain, it all scared 'em away. But if it's to keep the lower floors safe? That they can do."
Drifter thought about it. Argo wasn't wrong. And those same players often caused trouble because they had too much free time in their hands. Giving them something to do in the form of patrolling the lower floors would be solving two problems at once.
Still...
"What's Kibaou's angle on all this? He just gave you the idea? Or does he want to be in charge too?"
"Someone's gotta be. And say what ya will 'bout his personality, but he ran a tight ship. The ALS was well-trained."
From across the table, Yuna raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Is that what this police force would be? Another ALS? What guarantee do we have he won't try to muscle his way back into the Assault Team later on?"
Argo narrowed her eyes, as if her pride was stung that Yuna believed she hadn't thought of that already.
"None. But so what if they do? Even if just a fourth of 'em end up followin' through, that would be bolsterin' the Assault Team by half again. Can ya really say no to that?"
Yuna pouted. They couldn't.
"Either way, that would be all in the future, Yu-chan. Months from now, and even then... Like I said, Kibaou's changed. Can't say he won't change back once he gets a taste for leadership again, but right now... There's no Challenger left in Kibaou. He would train this new group 'cause he sees it as his atonement."
"Atonement? The bastard doesn't have the right to seek that."
Nautilus plunked down his mug with far more force than was necessary, face twisted in a snarl. Argo raised her hands in surrender.
"Don't shoot the messenger! Just sayin' things how I see 'em. A guardian force would do good right 'bout now, but we need someone with a firm hand in charge or they just become bullies. Kibaou has the experience."
"And also the arrogance."
The info-broker had to concede the point with a dip of her head, and she didn't continue arguing in favor of Kibaou. It wasn't like she was a fan of him either.
"Your choice, Dri-bou. Scrap it or give it a try?"
The spearmaster, who had fallen silent during the later half of the conversation, pondered over his choices.
"Dunno, little rat. Anyway, this isn't a decision I can make on my own. I'll bring it up with the rest of the leadership."
Argo nodded, then snuggled up against his side.
"Fair enough."