Chapter 5: Started as a Pay-to-Win Player?

Create joy with money; if you’re broke, fuck off!

Shengzai had always deeply agreed with this saying—playing games as a rich person was completely different from playing as a poor one.

Rich players could simply flick a finger and instantly experience the ultimate VIP treatment—the kind of thrill where one slash summons a string of glowing orbs—that normal people could never dream of.

As a common player, you either sacrifice your dwindling hair by pulling all-nighters to grind, or you pin your hopes on being a lucky god-tier player or a naturally gifted technique master.

Shengzai wasn’t rich, but his family ran a dojo, and his grandfather had left behind a substantial inheritance, ensuring Shengzai had food and shelter until he turned thirty.

Looking at the payment interface before him, Shengzai hesitated little and immediately set the amount to the maximum, then pressed the confirm payment button.

The currency in Aincrad is called Kael, with three denominations: gold Kael, silver Kael, and copper Kael, each exchanging at a rate of 1:100.

New players entering SAO start with only one hundred copper Kaels, which at the beginning can buy nothing more than a rusty iron sword and the smallest healing potion.

Among the ten thousand players, there were certainly pay-to-win players, but the game had just started, and Shengzai doubted anyone else was as insane as he was—spending a million yen right at launch.

The exchange rate in Aincrad was one yen to one copper Kael, meaning ten thousand yen equaled one gold Kael.

And now, mere moments after launch, Shengzai’s inventory already held one hundred gold Kaels.

While everyone else started with one hundred copper Kaels, he started with one hundred gold Kaels.

What did that mean? His starting wealth was ten thousand times greater than that of an average player!

If all other players were zero-spending, then even if you added up every last one of them, they still wouldn’t match Shengzai’s personal fortune.

Of course, if anyone here had done the same, they’d probably point at Shengzai’s nose and laugh, calling him an idiot.

But four hours from now, these people would finally realize who the real idiot was.

Four hours from now, this game would become a true death game!

For most players here, the hardest part would always be the very beginning.

The panic of being trapped in the game, combined with zero experience and scarce resources.

This directly caused the majority of deaths in SAO to occur in the early stages.

In this game, money wasn’t everything—but having no money was absolutely fatal.

Perhaps most high-level rare items and gear couldn’t be bought directly from shops, but had to be dropped by defeating level bosses.

Yet money was still crucial in the early game—for example, buying healing items and high-quality gear could significantly increase your chances of survival.

Not every player was Kirigaya Kazuto, capable of flashy moves and godlike health management.

Remember, when the death game begins, once your HP hits zero, your life ends instantly.

At launch, having ample funds to buy healing items and high-quality gear meant you were already ahead of the race.

While Shengzai was still lost in his spending spree, Kirigaya Kazuto had finally located Shengzai—the “newbie”—using his teammate’s positioning function.

“As I suspected from the start, you really entered the game using your real appearance.”

“Then again, with your looks, everyone else probably assumed your face was custom-made anyway.”

When Kirigaya found Shengzai, he spotted him instantly among the crowd—because his buddy, as predicted, hadn’t changed a single feature, making him unmistakable.

But Shengzai, staring at Kirigaya’s far more mature and rugged appearance compared to reality, blurted out: “Wait, who the hell are you?”

“It’s me, Kirigaya! Kirigaya!”

“So even if you have zero game sense, you should at least see my massive character name right on my forehead!”

Smiling wryly at Kirigaya’s complaint, Shengzai replied: “Of course I know you’re Kirigaya—I just didn’t expect you’d have crafted yourself such a mature face.”

“You must’ve thought your original face was too weak, or maybe too girly?”

Kirigaya, faced with his friend’s teasing, grew irritated.

The most awkward thing in a role-playing game was running into someone you knew in real life.

Because the avatar you designed always became their target for mockery.

If everyone had customized their looks, it wouldn’t have been a problem—but the issue was that Shengzai refused to play by the rules.

So now, the only one being mocked was Kirigaya himself.

“If you keep yapping like this, I won’t bother teaching you how to quickly master the game or level up fast.”

He was the veteran, Shengzai the newbie—yet right after meeting, he was the one being teased, making Kirigaya feel humiliated and determined to remind Shengzai who the real boss was.

Their casual chatter unintentionally caught the attention of a nearby man with brown hair and a headband.

The man was also extremely forward—he learned from their conversation that Kirigaya was a seasoned player.

He then clung to them like glue, hoping to tag along and receive guidance from the expert.

“What do you think?” Kirigaya asked, following his usual habit of checking his friend’s opinion.

“No problem. More people, more friends—and it won’t be so boring.”

Shengzai recognized the headband man—he was one of the few friends Kirigaya had in the game, known for his loyalty and integrity, someone Shengzai considered worth knowing.

Since Shengzai had no objections, Kirigaya said nothing—after all, teaching one newbie was the same as teaching two.

Besides, if only Shengzai were there with no witnesses, Kirigaya’s future showboating would be dull.

“I’m Klein. I love samurai culture, so when I heard SAO was a full-dive game centered on swords, I jumped on it right away.”

Klein was indeed extremely outgoing—once he heard Shengzai and Kirigaya accepted him, he immediately stood up and launched into a friendly self-introduction.

“Just call me Kirigaya,” replied Kirigaya, socially awkward and clearly overwhelmed by Klein’s enthusiasm, speaking tersely.

“Shengzai Wen. I’m basically this guy’s annoying friend—I only got into this game because he dragged me into it. You can call me Shengzai. Nice to meet you, Klein.”

Compared to Kirigaya, Shengzai clearly handled social interactions far better.

Compared to Kirigaya, Shengzai was clearly much more adept at social interactions.

(End of Chapter)