[F29 | SP] Alcoholics Notorious | <<On The House>>

[Acanthus 0]

On the House

Acanthus slammed the tavern door open. Breathless and nearly doubled over, she managed her question through half a dozen wheezing coughs.

“Where… where—are—you?”

“Where are ya goin’, Masuda?”

Haru craned her neck to look at the clock. 20:00 on the dot. She remained frozen, foot halfway out the door as the rest of her coworkers observed her like an animal in a zoo. Gingerly, her foot returned inside.

“I usually leave work around this time.” Her confidence faltered for just a moment. “I—I have all my projects finished and I’ve made sure the lab equipment is clean for tomorrow morning’s shift so I think—”

“Masuda. Calm down, girl.” Her manager gave her a relaxed smile. “I just asked where you were headed after work.”

“Oh.” Haru berated herself silently. She really should have known better. Mr. Nakatani was a kind man and usually left two hours before Haru ever did. He probably wasn’t looking to drag out her shift for no reason.

“I always go home and study. I have a test in ‘History of Japanese Government’ next week, so I’ve been working through the textbook a second time—”

“Haru.” The familiarity caught her off guard, and she stopped babbling. “I’m not trying to stress you out. I was just wondering if you’d like to come have drinks with the rest of the team tonight. We just had a killer day with all the tech scans and samples, so I’m trying to keep spirits up. It’ll be my treat.”

Haru paled at the invitation. She knew Mr. Nakatani took the team out pretty often for drinks. It was one of the reasons she tried to leave so late. It kept them from crossing paths, and that kept the errant invites away. Now that he was here, asking her directly, she couldn’t really say no. She was his boss.

He seemed to notice the delay in her response. “There’s no pressure at all. If you’d rather go home, that’s ok. Hell, it’s probably more responsible.”

“Not at all, Mr. Nakatani. I’ve really been wanting to meet up after work with everyone. Are we heading out now?”

-----

Acanthus | Lvl 71 (34/37) | No Stats (RP thread)

Edited March 14 by Acanthus
ooh I actually leveled up to Tier 8 from the last CoB threads

[Acanthus 0]

The decrepit bar greeted Acanthus with a mournful whistle as she forced the crooked door shut. Her mind was still racing. There had to be someone here. This was the exact location—she had triple checked. Her heart pounded.

—Haru’s heart pounded. Mr. Nakatani had dropped her right into the middle of the table. It was barely 20:30 and the drinks were flowing freely.

“Slow down, Eiji!” A short man in glasses playfully slapped the back of the wiry boy sitting next to him, who appeared to be halfway through his first plate already. “Gods know where you put that. I miss having your kind of appetite.”

“Sorry, Hiroshi.” Eiji wiped his mouth demurely. “I missed lunch. It was a really busy day.”

“Hey, don’t I know it. We were all there, remember? I’m just worried that you’re scaring the new girl. Haha! You even got a little bit of sushi on her.”

Sure enough, a tiny bit of nigiri slid down Haru’s petrified face. A matronly hand reached over to wipe it off.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Eiji! And you didn’t even notice it. I’m so sorry.” Her coworker, Mariya, glared at the young man, who seemed quite ashamed. He stood up to offer a deep bow, but Haru tried to wave him off. Any attention was bad attention. “I’m fine, please sit down. It was an honest mistake.”

“One he makes a lot. I’m pretty sure he once sprayed me with half a bowl of ramen.” Akihiko winked playfully as he looked at Haru, who quickly averted her gaze. She found it hard to focus while she looked at pretty people. Mariya shot Akihiko the same stern glare. “Stop being such a flirt, Akihiko. She’s already nervous. It’s her first time out with us, after all.”

[Acanthus 0]

“Why is that?” Came the innocent question from Eiji. Haru’s world slowed to a halt as she scrambled for an answer. Thankfully, Mr. Nakatani stepped in. “She’s a busy girl, Eiji. Getting into the University was one thing. Now she’s dealing with classes and exams on top of a full work schedule at the hospital. You said you had an exam next week for History of Japanese Government, right? How is that going?”

Any attention was bad attention, but center of attention was the worst of all. Haru nearly fell over at the table. Maybe it wasn’t too late to leave. Or fake a heart attack.

A beer appeared in front of her. Akihiko smiled innocently, a sort of “how did that get there” grin. “She’s busy with her drink. Maybe we let her finish this one before we berate her with questions?” He looked back at her with his full, rich brown eyes. What was I thinking about anyways? She looked back down at the bright, golden beer. Thin lines of neat, orderly bubbles marched their way to the top of the glass, forming a foaming shield against the world outside.

“Poor girl’s probably never had beer. She may not even drink.” Mariya began to reach for the glass. “You don’t have to drink, Haru. Just relax and—” In a single motion, Haru jerked the mug away from Mariya and tilted it back, draining half the glass at once. Akihiko whooped; Eiji and Hiroshi looked on with admiration. Mariya gave a sort of resigned grin. “Alright then. Suit yourself.”

Once Acanthus was absolutely certain the bar was devoid of life, she stumbled behind the counter to look at the bottles. They could be described charitably as a Precambrian vintage. The labels had faded entirely, and half of them had large cracks running through the glass, barely holding back the cloudy liquid they contained. If there had been people in the bar, they would have died of thirst.

Acanthus sat heavily in the nearest stool. It shifted with a terrifying *pop* before settling about ten centimeters lower than before. Undeterred, she swiped the first foul concoction within reach and popped the cork. From the look of the bottle, it was once some kind of liquor. Now, it was a greenish-amber liquid that drooled out of the bottle like cold syrup. Battle-healing will outpace the poison. Probably.

“Kanpai.” She whispered to the wall.
 

Edited Wednesday at 01:52 AM by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

“KANPAI!” Haru stood as she raised her glass, nearly knocking over the collection in front of her. Akihiko laughed. “Damn, Haru, you’re probably about half beer at this point!”

“Bbiolo gica lly imp ossible,” Haru slurred her retort as she sat back down. “P oint ffiv e blooo d alcolol content kills people. Iiam probably sitting around—” She jostled up in down in her seat, like she was weighing herself. “Point oon e four.”

Mr. Nakatani laughed. “I knew you were smart, Haru. I didn’t realize you were your own breathalyzer.” Haru shook her head, arms splayed out. “Ssmathmatics. I’ve have this many beers—” her fingers waggled up and down on every other word— “And I w ie gh this much—” more waggling— “soo were looking at point one fofur. Ma ybe five.”

“Haru!” Mariya playfully feigned shock. “You shouldn’t tell men how much you weigh!”

“No,, ‘sok. I’m using a fiv e percfen margin of error. Gotta keep em guessing.” Mariya burst out laughing as well. “You are incorrigible! I love it.” Words formed in Haru’s mind, caught by the rapidly dissolving filter to her mouth. I”m not incorigibaly. I’m ac ting normal.

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus drank in the tense silence. Maybe if she waited a little longer, he’d show. But two and a half bottles later, she began to doubt it. With a perfectly sober hand, she reached for another bottle behind the counter and cursed the game. Old enough to die, but not old enough to get drunk doing it. Fuck Cardinal, and fuck Kayaba.

Fishing around in the dark for another bottle, her hand instead closed around something crinkly and dry, like the carcass of a large beetle. Her hand snapped back to her side as her anxiety spiked. A drink—a real one—would be perfect right about now. Slowly, she reached back and grabbed the mysterious wad from beneath the counter. It was a long strip of yellowed paper. Straightening it out, she read it.

SHIPPING MANIFEST
1x crate Rotgut’s Finest
2x crate Greyish Goose
2x crate Prolapser Absinthe
4x crate Surplus Whiskey
10x beer (yellow kind)
10x crate beer (not yellow kind)
10x crate beer (what other kind is there)

Preparing to toss the trash away, a familiar chirp startled her. A quest? She looked down and nearly dropped the paper.

Acanthus, w̴̾͜h̸̓̚͜a̶̙͒̈́t̸̪͕͒ ̴̞̈́̍ͅa̵͎͓͆͝ṛ̵̌̐ẹ̷̹͘ ̷̯̭̌͂y̷͉̏o̴̪͚̓̅u̶͇̓͊ ̸̳͒d̵͉͐̽ọ̷̓͆i̸͓̠̍n̸̢̈́g̸̘͋ ̸͚͐a̵̹̪̋f̸̟̞͒̔ṱ̷̏e̸̫̯͑̾r̷̘͕͐̚ ̴̥̘͂w̵͕͒̈ö̸̤͉́r̴̙̀k̸̤̀?̵̲̎ ̶̝̆D̵͔͒͑ṟ̵̈̈́i̵̼̲͠n̷̳̄͒k̶͕̐ș̷̢̓ ̸͎̗̀̇a̸̲̤͑̎r̵͇̃̔e̵͙̖̊̂ ̷͚͉̓̿o̸̯͐͜ń̶͓͙͗ ̸̰̏̑m̵̩̰̑e̸̥̔͋ :) -E Accept Quest <<On the House?>> ̸́̄͊ͅ

 

[Acanthus 0]

Waiting at the docks
243228 | LD 10 | You see the ship far away, on the horizon. You blink and suddenly the ship is right upon you, and much bigger than you were expecting.

“We’re heading out. Same place tonight?” Haru looked up at Eiji. He seemed excited at the prospect. Haru was unused to people being excited to socialize with her.

“Sure thing, Eiji. Just want to wrap a few things up and I’ll see you all there soon.” Eiji beamed, shot her a thumbs up, and disappeared.

Haru looked back at her desk. She had finished her work hours ago; now, she leafed through her notes on algaes of the southern hemisphere. Going out after work was not the worst, but still… Acanthus felt like she needed to prepare herself mentally. Arriving late meant people had a drink or two already in them, and buzzed people would forgive her for being herself. By the time she caught up, she’d be acting normal along with everyone else.

The automatic lights turned off, and Acanthus glanced at the overhead clock. 20:27. Fourteen minutes earlier than last time. As long as I vary my entrances by about fifteen minutes, arriving no later than forty-five minutes after the agreed start time, it should give the appearance of an organic arrival. She knew she was thinking too hard about it, but those parts of her brain wouldn’t turn off without a beer or two.
 

Edited March 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Three bottles later, her nerves were still shot. It hadn’t been very long ago the frontlines had taken to this floor, looking for the labyrinth as quickly as they could manage. It was going well until some stupid, low-level players decided to let their curiosity overpower their common sense. The new floor had turned into a graveyard for some of that unlucky one-hundred. Not unlucky, she reminded herself. Stupid.

The young, defenseless boy flashed through her mind. She recalled his final whimper vividly. Or what should have been, except for Jomei. Acanthus took a tired swig from the bottle. “What does he know. Mr. Hero,” she said out loud. “Thinks he can save the world one idiot at a time.”

The quest icon pinged, reminding her of the invitation. Grabbing the dingiest bottle from the set, she sloughed off her stool and waded out into the cold drizzle. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Edict again, but she knew he was dead. This was all some trick to get her hopes up.

[Acanthus 0]

A horseless carriage awaited her outside the bar. Acanthus slung herself up into the driver’s seat with an anxious impatience. One last bottle from the shop dangled in her fingertips. It had been the most disgusting of the beverages by far, something that had put even Oz’s most experimental elixirs to shame. “C’mon, hurry up. Go. ‘Yip yip,’ you stupid—”

The cart lurched forward with an unsteady gait. Acanthus gripped the reins with her free hand, swigging rotten battery acid with the other. If it tasted bad enough, she could pretend it was working.

-----

Waiting at the docks
243228 | LD 10 | You see the ship far away, on the horizon. You blink and suddenly the ship is right upon you, and much bigger than you were expecting.

-----

The cart rattled over the cobblestones in a way that set her teeth on edge. It wasn’t just the cobblestones, though: the dilapidated houses and eerie absence of people were a constant source of stress for her. How long would the frontlines spend on this floor. The answer was simple: too long.

Even the waters were somehow too calm and too choppy all at once. The light drizzle and biting winds churned the waters restlessly, but the depths were still in a way that beckoned death. But the quest had asked her to pick up liquor from the dock, so that’s what she had to do. The lack of anything to pick up was suspicious, though. A trap, unlikely, but maybe the quest’s glitches were finally showing. As if gently correcting her, a soft *ping* indicated a change in her quest objective. The new marker appeared halfway to the horizon, above a small ship heading towards her.
 

Edited March 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

I don’t know much about boats, but at this rate, the ship is never going to—

docked right in front of her, clipping through the wooden piers. The massive galleon vibrated angrily, stuck between the textures. It promptly vanished, reappeared, zipped up into the air, came back down, did a flip, vibrated a little more. And then it settled calmly next to the dock, awaiting a player’s touch.

Acanthus eyed the object incredulously. Maybe vocalizing her anxieties would reduce them “How fucked up would it be it you did that again and catapulted me three miles out to sea to be eaten by some field boss?” The boat did not respond. She kicked it twice for good measure, which to boat took in stride. She grasped the rungs of the rope ladder up to the deck, and the boat continued to wait patiently like a grazing foal. In and out. Let’s get in and out.
 

[Acanthus 0]

Unloading the Cargo
243249 | LD 16 | You hear a voice that only you can hear. It speaks in tongues but you understand. Terrible things whispered into your ear, Once you depart from the vessel, the voice is no longer with you. (Literally I was hoping for any of the outcomes other than this one. LET ME WRITE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T VOICES)

-----

The moment her boots touched the boat, she knew something was wrong. Acanthus didn’t expect the boat to clip through the dock again. The fear was something more subtle, less describable. It was like the feeling in the back of her stomach the moment before she missed a stair, but stretched so thin it made her stomach watery. It was not a feeling she had ever experienced, in game or out. The fact that whatever was on this boat was not Hatred only heightened her fears.

Acanthus steadied herself on the boat’s railing. The deep ocean waves roared in the distance, lost in the grimy fog of the night. Her grip tightened as the #75CF35 deck faded into the haze slowly engulfing the boat. >Render_distance_set(6m) >archive_ocean25.f29.wav. The ocean clicked twice, then gave out.

The only sound left was the distant rain. Her immediate vicinity became a soundless void, and tendrils of fog crept closer, consuming the boat. <<Audio_USERDAT_Acanthus_set(0)>> Words died in her throat as she watched the boat disappear plank by plank, as her arms and legs suddenly felt like they were made of inescapable reality. She crumpled to the ground, eyes forced open to watch whatever was coming for her.

Actually, it wasn’t coming for her. It wanted to talk to her. The foul, stinging weight in the back of her head told her so.

Her mind flooded with nonsensical data. <<Map_data_234334>> <<LOCATE_USERDAT_Acanthus>> <<Set_quest_parameter_PAUSE>> <<Language_engine_initiate>> <<babel_code_parseNerveGear_USERDAT–coord243.245.56554.123aa>>

Something took a cattleprod to her mind. Acanthus shrieked, her voice lost in the compelled silence. <<Parse_fail>> <<Redun_unload_babel_forcequit>> <<Initializing>>

Spoiler

>Test_Translator

def translate_to_binary(japanese_text):
    # DICTIONARY_TABLE_OVERFLOW
    translation_dict = {
        'こんにちは': '1101000110111111001000001101101011101111',  # "Hello"
        'ありがとう': '1101000111100111010101011101100101111110',  # "Thank you"
        'さようなら': '1101000010111101011000010111100101101110',  # "Goodbye"
        'おはよう': '1101000111101001011010010111100101101001',  # "Good morning"
    }
    
    binary_result = ''
    for char in japanese_text.split():
        if char in translation_dict:
            binary_result += translation_dict[char] + ' '
        else:
            binary_result += 'UNKNOWN '
    
    return binary_result.strip()

# Example input
japanese_input = "こんにちは ありがとう"
binary_output = translate_to_binary(japanese_input)
print("Binary Translation:", binary_output)

A pressure formed on the sides of her head. She felt the vague sensation of her palms pressing into her temples, and thin line of drool dripped from the left side of her mouth. Acanthus instinctively tried wiping it away, but her hands dropped limp to the sterile white ground. Another wall of nonsense blasted her mind. Her vision blackened at the edges, and the sensation of rain disappeared as her senses struggled to take in the overwhelming sense of abstraction that poured into her brain.

Spoiler

01001000 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01110011 01101111 01101110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00101110 00100000 01000110 01101001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01101000 01101001 01101101 00101110

Acanthus could no longer see. Her instincts told her to draw her sword, but it was no longer hanging at her side. A tide of pixels and numbers parted through her fingers as she attempted to grab the hilt, washing past her hands like oil. Her feet sunk slowly into the sea of calculations. Acanthus cried out, but could no longer hear herself, or the rain, or the thing that was inevitably closing in on her to kill her, and eat her corpse, and leave not even a memory. Her world unraveled in a series of ones and zeros. She was no longer a person, no longer a Player, or even a thing. She was a scrap of User Data in the bowels of Cardinal, waiting to be digested.

Spoiler

01000110 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101110 01110011 01100101 01101100 01101111 01110010 00101110 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110110 01101111 01101001 01100011 01100101 00101110 00100000 01001000 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00100000 01001000 01100101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101011 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110

FIGHT. FIGHT THE WORDS. Hatred was there, its crystalline voice cutting through the buzz of data. SHE IS NOT DONE YET. WE ARE NOT DONE YET.

A thin ribbon of hope reached out to her. 01000 11000. 01000 11000. Numbers. Something in the back of her mind processed the numbers for her. 2, 4. 2, 4. Why repeat two and four.

RIDICULOUS. EVERYTHING MUST BE LAID OUT ON A SILVER PLATTER FOR HER NOT TO STARVE.

 Her mind shifted gears without a clutch, and she grasped her head. Hiragana! Acanthus raced through the letters. I, e. I, e. Ie! いえ! repeating the word over and over. いえ, いえ. Onegaishimasu, no. Unspoken thoughts formed senseless words, shouted back at her through the filter of Cardinal’s language engine. Her head begin to physically split from the pressure of hearing and speaking in 153 languages all at once. English, Mandarin, Hindi, Spanish,French,—PoRTUGUESE>run_language_tableRUSSIANGERMANJAPANESETURKISHPUNJABI

But the code responded to her pleas, and Acanthus felt the tide of data washing out from her brain, one line at a time. Numbers reluctantly returned shape to her surroundings, and brought sounds to her ears. Sharp, cold rain stung her body, and relief washed over Acanthus as she took in each unpleasant sensation that graced her skin. Somehow, she had ended up on her side, laying on the deck. Hints of wood and water rose to her nostrils. Not oak or cedar, or any specific kind of wood that a real boat would possess. Just… wood.

“It’s not real.” She whispered her reminder to the floor, too tired to move from her nonexistent refuge. Today, she was defenseless.

Edited Wednesday at 02:03 AM by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Today, she was defenseless. She said at a long table with her coworkers; to her relief, they appeared just as uncomfortable as her. The Director had picked a restaurant far more upscale than the dives they usually frequented.

“Mr. Nakatani, please try some of the quail eggs. I’ve had them all over Japan; nowhere else compares to Chef’s.” Haru hadn’t pictured Mr. Nakatani as a very elegant person, but he handled the conversation with an envious ease. Mr. Nakatani nodded politely, turning to the waiter an ordering. “Quail eggs, six oolongs, and a few other seasonal dishes that the chef might recommend. I trust his judgment.” The waiter nodded before disappearing off to the kitchen.

Haru’s hand clung to her lap, gripping the folds of her pants in a mild sense of discomfort. Mr. Nakatani had briefed her on this meal along with the rest of the team. “The Director is a kind man, but a stern one,” he warned them. “Do not start a conversation without permission. Do not ask a question unless you are prepared for the answer. Speak plainly, but not rudely. And whatever you do, no drinking, smoking, or other vices. He is a man of austere tastes.”
 

Travel Back
2432450 | LD 9 | You, and only you, see yourself walking in front of you. They mimic your every move, before violently turning their neck to look you in the eyes. The moment you lock eyes, they are gone.

Shenanigans inbound

Edited Wednesday at 02:03 AM by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

“Haru Masuda.” She seized, noticing the Director’s gaze. “Noboru Masuda’s daughter, yes?” Haru nodded meekly. Center of attention was worst of all. And today, she did not have her fermented weapons to protect her. The Director returned her nod. “An able doctor. Though less efficient since he took a sabbatical six or seven years back.”

The rest of the table paled; Mr. Nakatani quickly jumped in. “Haru has been—”

“I was talking to Masuda. Which you should also refer to her as, unless there is some closeness that I am unaware of?” The color from Mr. Nakatani’s face drained. He managed a quick, “My apologies. I only mean to say that Ms. Masuda has been a valuable addition to our team.”

The Director’s focus shifted back to Haru. She felt the circulation in her legs slowing as she gripped her knees tighter. “Regarding the blood sample aggregation and collections, yes, I’ve heard. That’s why you’re here. I wanted to congratulate you all with a celebratory dinner on me.”

[Acanthus 0]

The atmosphere was anything but celebratory. Eiji had barely touched his food. Akihiko had a sober frown that she had only seen on the worst of work days. The entire team seemed devoid of their usual personalities, and it made Haru sad to see them so muted. “I understand your team has refined the workflow in a profound new manner. The reports seem to confirm that: more productivity than the rest of the hospital combined, and with half the manpower. Truly an impressive achievement.”

“An achievement impossible without our newest member.” Mr. Nakatani signaled to Haru, who stood up clumsily to bow. The Director frowned. “An unusual response to congratulations, Ms. Masuda.” Anxiety made her crumple faster than she stood. Nothing made sense to her sober. Was she supposed to bow? Say thank you? How much eye contact was too little? Too much? She worked better with a little social lubricant, something that could wend through her brain and turn off the overthinking. Right now, everything was awful. Dry, and formal, and awful. Please, let me go home soon. Mr. Nakatani quickly resumed conversation. “She has a very unique way of approaching things. It’s a big reason that we’ve been able to streamline so much on our end…”

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus piled the last box onto the carriage. The work had moved slowly, but that was fine with her. Blood was still finding its way back to her fingers after her brief encounter with… the quest? Whatever had happened did not conform to any question she had been on. Even her experience with the glitched monsters on level three hadn’t quite compared. Those were still things that she could see and process. Her experience on the boat seemed like a burst of data she could not possibly process—like an ant trying to comprehend the lines of a book as it crawled over something it had previously regarded as inky nonsense. For a brief moment, those meaningless shapes took on the form of words, sentences, and thoughts—a form they had always possessed, but had only just been revealed in a flash of indescribable horror. Confronted with the true face of the game, reality had nearly unraveled in that moment. And it had been Hatred that pulled her back.

She frowned. Hatred was trying to kill her. Why did it coax her from the strange distortion? Acanthus mulled over a few theories as she climbed onto the carriage. The easiest answer was that Hatred created these unusual sensations, and that its encouragement was just another way to torture her. The answer was simple, but unlikely. The distortions were unlike any before. The one that had claimed Edict was different altogether. The things she had fought shared Hatred’s voice, but never before or since had Hatred taken shape. It seemed content to chastise her from the safety of nowhere.

Her next theories presumed that the distortions were not Hatred’s doing. So something else was trying to kill her, and Hatred was fighting with her to keep it at bay. Most likely, Hatred wanted the kill to himself. But what if he’s not trying to kill me anymore? Or… What if he never wanted to?

Foolish girl. She rapped her forehead with a closed fist. You’re quick to forget what it said and did to you in the forest. It told you to “finish the job” while you held the knife. In what world is that not “trying to kill you?”

In a world that only passes for real, possibly.

-----

Travel Back
2432450 | LD 9 | You, and only you, see yourself walking in front of you. They mimic your every move, before violently turning their neck to look you in the eyes. The moment you lock eyes, they are gone.

-----

A sharp bump in the road brought her eyes up to the horizon. In the distance, a figure sauntered in the gloomy weather. The only thing Acanthus could tell from this distance was that it appeared to be human, and that it was going the same way as her. She rested her hand on botan. Probably not a player, and even if it were, possibly one that had murder on the mind. Acanthus briefly marveled that she had met so few PKers in the game. From the stories of many frontliners, they were a constant thorn in the side of the players. But for all the time she had been here, she had never met one.

[Acanthus 0]

Meter by meter, the carriage overtook the mysterious player’s steps. Despite the rattling wheels, the figure did not so much as glance behind. Had she been on any other floor, Acanthus might have written the oddness off as a person lost in thought. But Floor 29 lived to play nasty tricks on its victims. Close enough to make out the figure’s light copper hair, Acanthus prepared for anything.

In the single, sharp sound of bone splintering, the mimic’s head snapped around like an owl, staring Acanthus in the eyes. It wasn’t just a mimic. It was one of the Gemini. How else did the thing know where to paint the final blows she had landed? A caved temple from duel number five, a gouged left eye from the third fight, and a gushing neck wound from her very first win. The blood looked so incredibly real, except for the occasional lost frame.

The Gemini’s mouth began to move; after a few seconds, the words followed. “I̴̼̙̅̑̽̈͠ ̷̧͗̏̐̈́̽l̶̡͉̝̠̠̾̌o̷̡̻̰̟͘ͅv̶͉͇̫͈͕̽̇̒͒ë̴̡̪͈͍́͝ ̴̢̪̖͈̗̏̽̿̈́y̷̦͚̔̀o̸̼̣͙̓̂̈̓u̷̺̳͑̈́͠.” The mouth rotted away, and its jaw fell to the road with a heavy thud. Her hands crackled as bones broke and sinew tore to reach for Acanthus, but they also began to rot and fall from its body. In a matter of seconds, the Gemini dismembered itself, dried to a husk, and disappeared in the wind.

Its words echoed in her ears. Acanthus stood numbly in the road, refusing to process what exactly had happened. Somehow, it wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her today. “Still alive,” she sighed, and resumed driving the carriage.

[Acanthus 0]

Eiji appeared next to Haru’s desk again, his usual cheer noticeably absent. Haru spoke without looking up. “Another dinner, then.” Eiji groaned in confirmation. “That stuffy old man ruins the mood without even trying. I swear, he—”

“—he is responsible for funding our branch of the hospital.” Mr. Nakatani cut in. “And he’s taken a special interest in the work we’ve been doing. Work that’s ended up spearheaded by our used-to-be intern, Haru.” Mr. Nakatani glanced sympathetically over to Haru. “I know it’s not how you’d prefer to spend your evenings, but networking is unfortunately very important, no matter who you are. The interest of the Director is how we all move up the ladder.”

Eiji sighed again. “I don’t want to move up the ladder. I’m happy running our silly little tech scans all day, and having drinks after work. Not sitting around a table full of expensive, gross food, drinking green tea and exchanging empty politeness. ‘Oh, hello, Haru, your dad sucks at his job but—’”

“Eiji, that’s enough.” Mr. Nakatani glared at him, and he tucked his chin in shame. “Behave yourself.”

“Sorry, Haru.” He slunk off to his desk.

“Mr. Nakatani, I appreciate your defending my father, but Eiji is correct. He really hasn’t been the same since mom died.” Her boss’s features softened. “As good a reason as any. I don’t know what I’d do if my wife died. But I probably wouldn’t keep it together as well as Noboru.”

Haru seethed quietly. Her dad wasn’t “keeping it together.” He was just good at saving the worst of it when he thought no one was looking.

“You’re right. And for what it’s worth, I enjoy these dinners with the Director. The quiet, refined, atmosphere is soothing.” Mr. Nakatani furrowed his brow, then shrugged. “I suppose it's for the best. We have one next week, it should be the last for a while. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Thank you Mr. Nakatani. Have a good evening.” Haru swept her things from her desk and left with a pace that spoke for itself.

[Acanthus 0]

Akihiko and Haru drove up the mountain in comfortable silence. After twenty minutes, Haru asked in wonder, “Are we driving to the next island over? How far away does the director live, exactly?” Akihiko chortled. “He does appreciate his peace, quiet, and luxurious mountain view. The only thing he loves more is showing people how good the view is.”

Another few switchbacks brought the house into view, and Acanthus struggled to take it all in. “That’s not a house. That’s a mansion. It looks like the size of the hospital.”

“The Director really does live the good life.”

“Does being on a hospital board really pay that much?”

“More than us. But this is more of a hobby for him, I think. He struck rich a long time ago, and has been coasting ever since.”

“Really? How long ago?”

“Since he was born.” Akihiko's chortle calcified into a hard laugh. “Turns out, all you need to be successful is hard work, a tight schedule, and a dad that patented new medical equipment. It helps when your mom is on the board to approve the purchase.”

“That sounds like a blatant conflict of interest.”

He shrugged. “Sign enough papers, and anything goes.”

Akihiko pulled up to the iron gates, pulled open manually by a man in a suit. A second man awaited them at the circle drive to valet the car. “Must have been some expensive medical equipment,” Haru observed.

[Acanthus 0]

“Isn’t this steak incredible? I had it imported. My chef only works with the best cuts, but the work he produces is undeniable.”

The membrane that separated Haru’s thoughts from her words was weakening. I don’t even like steak that much. I would kill for a large bowl of ramen. “It’s sensational.” She cut into the entree with the enthusiasm of a distracted toddler and forced a bite into her mouth.

The taste felt rubber and artificial. She panicked. No, I liked food back then. That’s not how this memory goes. She pleaded for Cardinal to stop. You can’t alter these. It’s all I have left of the real world.

The steak <<burst with flavor>>. Savoring the bite, she listened as the Director continued to extol the work of his chef. “A tireless worker, and not at all prone to the vices of the common man. Much like myself; that’s why I had to have him on my personal staff. And much like you, Ms. Masuda.”

“He’s awful full of himself, isn’t he?” Haru leaned over and whispered to Eiji, who turned white as a sheet. The Director tilted his head, straining to hear. “I beg your pardon?”

Haru covered her mouth with a single hand. The filter was leaking. She’d overcorrected too much. “I said, I’m feeling awful full, myself.”

“You’ve barely touched your meal.”

“The richness is too filling for a ‘common woman’ such as myself. I beg your pardon, but I need a moment of air.” The director gave a solemn nod of approval, and Haru excused herself.

“She has excellent timing, actually. I believe things were winding down here. Let’s take a moment, and then we can retire to the living room for some drinks—non-alcoholic, of course…”

[Acanthus 0]

In all honesty, Acanthus liked the taste of beer. It didn’t burn like hard liquor, and the bubbles were oddly soothing to her palate. She tried heavier beers and didn’t like them—they were overwhelming. Plus, they needed to be nursed carefully. Acanthus liked having drinks, not nursing them. So whenever she went out, light beer was her weapon of choice.

Haru felt for the flask in her bag. The smooth, cold steel soothed her nerves. She preferred beer, or sake if liquor was a must, but practical concerns required vodka: odorless except for that necessary sting, and easy to mask. A test of the flask’s weight determined that she drank half the flask at this point, approximately her self-prescribed rate. Another swig would work until it was time to excuse herself again. Pulling the flask out of the bag, she prepared for a quick dose.

“Mind if I join you?”

Haru yelped in surprise, and the flask fell back into her bag with a soft “thump.” Mr. Nakatani gave her a sideways glance and smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I just needed to excuse myself for a moment, and noticed you out here. I know you’re a bit of a loner, but I’d appreciate the company, if you don’t mind.”

Her heart pumped; had Mr. Nakatani seen the flask? She couldn’t recall if it was halfway to her lips or just out of the bag when he snuck up on her. And the noise it made had been quiet, but not entirely silent. She did her best to act casual. Leaning on the railing, Haru talked in the cold night air, watching her breath escape in small gasps. “Of course, Mr. Nakatani. I always enjoy chatting with you.” Mr. Nakatani laughed softly. “You don’t have to be kind for my sake, Haru. I know you enjoy your solitude more than most. Nothing wrong with that.” Haru found herself stuck between agreeing with him and being polite.

Her boss—her actual boss—reached into his back pocket for something Haru could not quite catch out of the corner of her eye. When she heard the metallic *flick*, her head slowly turned to see Mr. Nakatani lighting up a cigarette. His face broke out in an abashed grin. “I hope you don’t mind. I know it’s hypocritical to work in a hospital and smoke, but even I need something to take the edge off with these damn dinners.”

Haru was speechless at the development. Mr. Nakatani seemed like such a straight-laced man. He always left the team dinners the most sober of the crew. She had assumed there wasn’t a gram of nonconformity in his bones, but two monstrously long drags of his cigarette told a different tale. Savoring the tobacco for a spell, Mr. Nakatani finally turned back to Haru. “So what are your plans after school? University of Tokyo is a pretty big name. You should have quite a few opportunities.”

“I have a few leads here in Nagasaki. It would keep me close to home. Maybe I could keep working at the hospital?” Mr. Nakatani flicked a butt over the balcony and started a second cigarette. He took a thoughtful pull before responding. “Haru, if you come back to the hospital, I will fire you myself.”

Haru blinked in surprise, waiting for clarification. “You’re a bright kid. You’re too smart to spend the rest of your life sorting out the problems at some local hospital to save the board a few yen. I think the Director knows that too; that’s the real reason he keeps hosting these little dinners. They aren’t for us. They’re for you.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Her own bluntness surprised her, but it felt appropriate. “He has to see that I am fighting for my life to stay interested.”

Mr. Nakatani chortled. “I certainly can. But I think the Director is used to knowing what’s best instead of paying attention to people. Confidence is a powerful drug, but it's one that dulls the senses. Personally, if I wanted to woo you into staying here, I’d promise you a quiet corner office and a deadbolt on the inside of your door.”

Haru laughed. “Sorry, sorry. That was inappropriate, but it does sound nice.” Mr. Nakatani smiled, teeth clamping down on the dwindling cigarette. “Part of me hated dragging you out to those little parties after work. I wanted to push you to meet the team. They kept asking when they’d get to know you, and I wasn’t really sure how to do that, just shy of kidnapping you.”

“If you had, I would have understood. Meeting new people is not my strong suit. But I have enjoyed spending time with them after work.”

“They like you at work, too, you know.” Haru kept quiet, worried about where this was going. “You’re always a little more, ah… animated with a few drinks in you, but they enjoy spending time with you at work, too. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t have invited you out.” He glanced down to her bag before shooting her a side-eye. Was that intentional? It wasn’t. I’m just on edge and seeing things, that’s all. Right?

It was time to change the subject. “If you all like me so much, then why do you want me to leave?” A short exhale from Mr. Nakatani floated hints of tobacco into her nostrils. It was a strangely pleasant smell. “Because we’re not always going to be here. Eiji’s going to go to college soon, Mariya and Akihiko are up for promotions, and Hiroshi is thinking about retiring soon. Besides, I already told you: you have an incredible mind. Make a name for yourself.”

“So then… what should I do?”

“Hell if I know.” He puffed smoke gently off the balcony. “I do have a few friends in Tokyo you should talk to. Smart people like you. One of them works up at the National Diet helping read and research big legislation. It may be right up your alley.” Haru nodded quietly. It did sound like something she would enjoy. She hadn’t realized just how much Mr. Nakatani had come to understand her during her time at the hospital. She regretted tip-toeing around him for so long.

Mr. Nakatani offered her a cigarette. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Thank you, but maybe another time.” He shrugged, shooting her one more resigned smile. “Can’t say I didn’t try to keep us out here a little longer. Looks like it’s time to head inside.”

[Acanthus 0]

It was time to head inside the bar again. Somehow the sight of her first gruesome mob fight on the floor had become a sight for sore eyes. The door limped open and closed on an invisible wind, and the cracked windows let in more rain than they blocked out.

Part of her eagerness was the vain hope that led her here in the first place. Two hours ago (assuming that freakish distortion hadn’t prolonged her sense of time), a message appeared in her inbox in duplicate. Apparently, she had sent it to herself a week ago. Why it was only appearing now was anyone’s guess. But the invitation made her drop everything she was doing, and rush to floor 29 as fast as her stamina would allow.

Acanthus. Sorry I bailed. Believe it or not, I’m still here. Swing by H.P.’s for a drink whenever you have a chance. Should be good to catch up for a bit. -E