001 Training Arc 1: The White Room

Second of two chapters posted in this arc.

The man’s voice continues, calm and unflustered, in stark contrast to my own panic.

‘Then I shall be arriving shortly. Please wait a moment.’

I replay his words in my head, chewing on them.

If this is alien abduction, the one coming toward us should be an alien.

‘Shit, is it a Grey? A squid? Am I gonna be some lab rat?’

My imagination spirals out of control. Half-panic now.

After a moment, a vertical crack splits the white wall, then slides open horizontally, revealing an entrance.

Exactly like those sleek, cinematic spaceship doors from anime or sci-fi movies.

From the opening emerges a humanoid figure. A handsome man with golden hair and blue eyes—like a prince from a fairy tale. He wears a white military uniform, heavily adorned with trims and insignia typical of nobles or royalty. First-class military garb, to be precise.

(Not even a prince. And human? No, maybe a prince-type alien?)

The prince spoke up, as if reading my mind.

Pleased to meet you. I’m the local administrator, Gamer Name (GN) Prince.

A perfectly aimed smile, white teeth glinting.

"Isn't it exactly as expected!"

I couldn’t help but butt in.

The Prince just laughed and waved it off—used to it, apparently.

I sat down on the chair protruding from the floor and began explaining the circumstances.

Applicants with cleared SFC status and declared intent to join SFO are evaluated based on DNA samples and play logs transmitted via network, with acceptance or rejection determined accordingly.

Only those chosen are summoned here via transfer.

That’s why you’re resting in this room—transference sickness came on during the shift.

Second-time teleportation sickness should be lighter. I don’t think I’ll lose consciousness again.

Welcome to SFO. We warmly welcome you, Yaezashi-san, as an SFO professional gamer.”

So, becoming a pro gamer is definitely not up for debate.

Still, I’ll ask about the part that’s bugging me.

“Can I ask something? I don’t get the whole alien abduction thing.”

Prince nods slowly, explaining.

“Abduction refers to being brought here via teleportation.

Some people, after touring the facility or hearing the explanation, change their minds. We erase their memories and send them back home.

To them, those missing hours become abduction—alien kidnapping.

You’re probably noticing this already, but this teleportation technology is impossible on current Earth.

The starships used in gameplay? Only advanced extraterrestrial civilizations (aliens) could provide those.

We’re entrusting Earth-based gamers with starship development to enhance their performance.

That’s why the pay is so high. Naturally, we’ll have them sign a confidentiality agreement. Violators will be… cough cough… have their memories erased and their assets confiscated.”

Almost said something dangerous. Better keep quiet.

“So the game SFO isn’t just some VRMMO— it’s actual combat simulations using alien-tech starships.

Gamers earn pay by raising starships. So the whole broadcast rights thing was a lie?”

I lock eyes with the Prince, prompting a response.

“No, revenue from broadcast rights does come in as a secondary stream. Those who aren’t good at training or crave attention can earn through that route.”

There’s no way to showcase progress, but broadcast rights? That’s your shot at becoming famous back on Earth.

And simulated combat happens through data in a virtual space.”

“So what’s the real-space battleship for?”

“Defending against enemy ships. There’s also debris collection work—sell the recovered materials, and that’s how you earn. That’ll be the biggest income source.”

Huh. I’ve never actually seen my sister’s gameplay footage… even though she’s a pro-gamer.

So she’s been making money through training and combat. Sorry I put you through that, sis.

“Huh? So pro-gamers can actually go back to Earth? Isn’t it standard for people to get stuck in another world forever?”

“Yes. As long as you maintain SF0’s stance as a VRMMO game and uphold your confidentiality agreements, you’re free to come and go.

"When the contract ends, you'll be fitted with this transfer bracelet."

The Prince taps the metal bracelet on his arm with a cheerful *pom-pom*.

"With this bracelet, you can freely teleport between the station and your home."

"By the way, this station is located at the inner edge of the Solar System's asteroid belt orbit.

It's a spatially undeniable, fully terrestrial environment. So, by definition, it's not another world."

Probably uses a communication device to relay location data, then activates the station's teleportation array.

Kind of like the start-up *hook* transfer system.

And it's beyond Mars' orbit—ridiculous distance. Must be packed with dangerous tech that breaks light speed.

If that bracelet actually contains a teleportation device, what kind of disaster would happen if it broke in an accident?

And it's probably also listening in on conversations, monitoring for breaches of confidentiality.

Some military power might try selling wristbands like this, who knows.

My heart froze. If I could just sign the contract, earn some money, and still go to high school—there’s no better side job than this.

Considering my sister’s income, I could probably earn enough for the enrollment fee in less than a month.

She mentioned paying back a decent chunk of her debt recently.

“Got it. I’ll sign.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

The Prince lets out a full, dazzling smile.

(Handsome guys are just unfair.)

The contract is laid out. I go over it all—just in case.

My sister warned me again and again not to sign with a blind stamp.

Seems her troubles are tied to that.

Participation conditions, pay, repair and resupply terms, extra bonuses for optional add-ons—nothing about this contract looks bad, no matter how you look at it.

I sign without hesitation.

But when he saw the sign, the Prince made a puzzled face.

"Excuse me… aren’t you Yaezaka Karan?"

"Yeah? It's Akira from Yae-gashi. Hanren's the older sister."

Wait a moment!

Prince hurriedly exited.

After a while, the Prince returned, flustered.

I apologize. There was a mix-up—the account’s DNA is registered under Hualien-san.

There’s a chance it won’t register under Shira’s name.

I explain to the prince, who’s clearly confused.

No, the DNA’s almost identical. Sister and me—we’re twins, same DNA.

I’ve got the Y(・)gene(・)thing, and I’m nine years younger than you, though.

She should be playing pro-games here, anyway.

No way two entries are the same person.

Ah... damn it. Just remembered something unpleasant.

Even the youngest heart felt the force of that brutal backlash.

I’m not some genetic experiment monster. That sister of mine and I had a hell of a time fleeing.

Then I remembered something important.

Yeah, can you tell my older sister to get the enrollment fee transferred?

I'm in serious trouble—might get expelled from high school.

The Prince gave a puzzled expression, but seemed to understand my explanation, and asked for the DNA to be resubmitted.

Sorry, but could you provide your DNA?

With that, I used the comms function on my wristband to call for my assistant.

The wall hissed open, and a woman stepped in, holding a collection kit in one hand.

This is my assistant, GN Meena. She’ll collect Miss Shira’s DNA.

I’m startled by Minna’s cat ears. They’re twitching—pico pico—and definitely real.

Meena was a beauty straight out of legend—identical to a human in appearance, with short white hair cut even at the shoulders and eyes of a pale blue.

Not particularly large or small, her chest was average—her figure well-proportioned, subtly muscular, balanced.

White triangular ears stood upright on its head, and a long, matching tail swayed from its rear.

Their exposed skin wasn’t heavily haired—just like any ordinary human—but their ears and tail were covered in white fur.

Styled like a military uniform—long-sleeved mini dress. Olive green, with a shiny, space-jacket-like fabric.

Would it be clear if I said it’s like the female version of the Guncannon’s Zon military uniform?

Beastman. No—feline alien!

I just stood there, mouth agape.

"Meeya. Open your mouth. You're already open, though."

Mina’s hand darted quickly, shoving the cotton swab into my mouth and lightly brushing the inside of my cheek.

"End of the line."

DNA collection wraps up thanks to Meena’s swift work.

Then, I’ll perform a re-examination. Please wait a moment.

The Prince takes Mina and exits again.

After a little while, the Prince appeared, looking thoroughly embarrassed. Minah was with him.

System error. The account was indeed registered under Ayame’s DNA.

The system apparently misidentified it as a rare case where everything except male genetic material was identical.

There are other things I’m curious about, but since they’re personal information, I won’t pry.

As for Hanlian, she’s currently on the other side of the gate, heading to another star system. We’ve sent a courier vessel with a message, so we should hear back from her shortly.

Receive the bracelet from the Prince, get the function explanation—

The Personal Ship is customized using Akihiko's DNA.

It’ll take about seven days to complete, so I’ll contact you via the bracelet’s communication function once it’s ready.

Until then, you’re free to either teleport back to Earth or rent a ship from the Guild and get to work.

I’ll have Meena show you around the station—take a look around.

With that, the contract is finalized. Good luck.”

With that, the Prince hurried off, flustered.

“So… what now?”

Well, I’ll start by touring the station and getting shown around by the Guild.

Speaking of the Guild—those bulletin boards where jobs are posted and arranged, as promised.

“Kinda starting to feel fun, actually.”

Twins, same DNA, different genders, nine years apart.

Yeah, that’s weird. But we’ll get to that tech talk later. Not now.

If it helps motivate me, I’d really appreciate it if you found even a little bit of it enjoyable—something you’d want to keep reading. Bookmarks, ratings, anything like that would be great.

The rating button is located below the latest chapter.