Takao

Takao sat in contemplative silence, caught between amazement at the depth of Kyo's explanation and confusion in the face of an overwhelming influx of information. He resisted the urge to interrupt, recognizing in her worries the echoes of his own preoccupation with artificial intelligence. The distinction between imminent AI takeover and a harmless concept from a bygone era was blurry, and while Kyo found herself on one side of the fence, Takao found himself on the other.

"I guess I don't really know the difference?" he admitted, scratching the side of his tilted head. "Sapient means, like, human, right? It's for sure not human; artificial intelligence is just computers and algorithms."

Deep in thought, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, his mind wandering. Allaying Kyo's fears seemed like an impossible task, and it sounded to him like she held a concrete opinion on AI. Given that neither of them really knew what Cardinal was, how it worked, or its true nature, debating just how sapient, sentient, or self-aware it could be seemed like a futile exercise. Like the overarching concerns about AI at large, Cardinal could either be a harmless game enhancer or a digital scourge dooming them all.

"Well... as for how Cardinal knows if something is hard or difficult, I think you might be putting too much stock into the term 'knows.' I mean, adaptive difficulty has existed in games since before VR was even a thing, that kind of tech has existed since the '80s." He sucked in a breath and continued.

"Regarding determining between bugs and features, it's actually a super nuanced process that involves a lot of moving parts. Automated testing, static code analysis tools, historical data analysis, and machine learning models... You can even include user intent recognition algorithms to understand if a user perceives a certain behavior as intended or as a problem. Not to mention the human-in-the-loop approach, where developers provide feedback on the system." Takao leaned forward, resting his hand on his chin, petting Otoko idly. His legs tensed, lifting the front two legs of his chair into the air to balance on the rear pair.

"You can't keep a game like Sword Art Online running without constant upkeep. Regardless of how good Kayaba or Cardinal are, nothing beats mass user testing. That's why so many games do huge day one patches; nobody is better at breaking games than thousands of concurrent players."

Last of all, she touched back on the idea of the AI's interpretation of quality. A concept as cut and dry as that to Takao seemed to fill Kyo with a great deal of worry, something he could empathize with but did not share in. He considered a thoughtful way to broach the subject.

"An AI doesn't decide for itself if something is good or bad. It's given a set of rules that dictate upper and lower limits, and the AI operates within those boundaries. Adaptive difficulty, training off developer-made quests and lore, automated bug detection and fixing... these are all technologies that have existed on their own before SAO, Cardinal just brings them together. But, ultimately, I guess there's no real way of nothing anything for sure..." His mind wandered, and then he too grimaced, his face twisting in disgust.

"Ugh.. I don't want to think about an AI developing a sex drive..."

Takao appeared entirely oblivious to Kyo's growing unease, mirroring his own concerns from just moments before, regarding the potential implications of the technology he held in high regard. Kyo accurately deduced that deploying an asset like Cardinal didn't necessitate its application throughout the entire game, recognizing the need to let the AI focus on its strengths. Takao believed that while Cardinal could enhance the dialogue of some NPCs, especially in unique instances, such intricate interactions were largely unnecessary. For example, he saw no issue with the repetitive scripts of shopkeepers.

His visible recoil came when Kyo abruptly stood up and expressed her anxieties. Otoko, now alert and attentive, mirrored Takao's worry with a shared glance before redirecting their focus back to Kyo. As she slammed her hands on the table, Otoko swiftly scurried, initially struggling for traction on the table, before launching onto Takao's shoulders and peeking cautiously over his head with wide orange eyes. In response, Takao further recoiled, his limbs flailing, and his arms adopting a more defensive posture.

"S-sapient?! No way! I mean... that's not how it works at all!" he protested, defensively waving his hands. Attempting to allay Kyo's concerns as if pleading for his life, Takao continued, "It's just a sophisticated game master AI! It keeps things fair and fresh, and gets rid of bugs!"

While his words conveyed confidence, Takao wasn't entirely sure if he believed them himself. This was all theoretical, and the true nature of AI remained elusive.

"I mean... he, for sure, has made insane breakthroughs, and this kind of AI is pretty new... But sentient AI comes from a lack of understanding about how AI actually works! The level of self-awareness, understanding of meaning, and subjective experience... It's all things we can only simulate, nothing the AI can create for itself." Takao stayed on the defensive, like his words were defusing a bomb. "Cardinal has pretty specific instructions! If a monster is too hard, make it weaker. If it's too weak but gives mad EXP, make it harder or give less. If a monster is encountered this many times, make that monster appear less and create a new monster in its place. You know? Stuff like that, it doesn't actually think for itself!"

She inquired about how much knowledge she possessed, pondering which aspects would be most revealing. In truth, he held a considerable amount of information, though not in the technical intricacies of precisely how the artificial intelligence operated but more on a conceptual or theoretical level. Having missed the chance to participate in the beta, he vividly remembered various articles and forum posts about the Cardinal system that surfaced shortly after its initiation.

"I know a little bit, but only surface-level stuff, really! You don't have to worry about it affecting our chances of winning the game either. From what I understand, Kayaba is still at the helm," Takao reassured her, taking a much-needed breath as his shoulders finally slumped.

"You know... The more I think about it, the more I think this is all just to fulfill Kayaba's personal fantasy. He creates a world that can populate it with new content without his doing, and what you said about him maybe being disguised as a player? It would make the death game stuff make more sense; if he wanted this to be as close to a real world, that's the only way to get people to play along."

Upon leaving the safety of Snowfrost and facing the untamed wilderness of the fourth floor, Takao swiftly unsheathed his sword, the metallic sound resonating in the crisp air. With a confident yet cautious stance, he held the blade tight in his grasp and at the ready, positioned to the side opposite Star. Although he felt assured that nothing in the floor's wilderness could overpower the two of them, past arrogant errors had taught him the value of vigilance, and he was nothing if not cautious.

The journey proved less challenging than his recollection of the floor. Despite the persistent chill that nipped at his ears and fingers, the temperature was sufficiently mild to melt the snow, revealing hints of green grass beneath the receding white fluff. With one hand, he pulled the tufted collar of his jacket closer. While his eyes scanned the surroundings, he casually traced the tip of his sword along the snow's surface. Disliking the eerie silence, Takao decided to break it, initiating some casual conversation to pass the time.

"So, the heavy armor—does that mean you're more of a tanky type?" Takao inquired, maintaining his gaze forward. "How's it been working out for you?"

❖

ID 218686
5(Roll) + 5(S&D) + 1(Paragon) = 11 LD
SEARCH FAILED

Some of Takao's paranoia immediately eased when Kyo assured him that speaking candidly wouldn't incur Kayaba's wrath. He let out a sigh of relief, a hint of his overly trusting nature surfacing. Content with the reassurance, he settled back into the chair, and Otoko, albeit warily, followed suit and laid back down on the table. Takao lifted his legs onto the chair, crossing them to find a comfortable position.

Then, Kyo inquired about the Cardinal system, and Takao's head visibly tilted.

"You don't know about it?" he asked, surprised. "Huh."

Takao scratched his chin and thought about how to best explain such a complex thing. In a way, Cardinal was the entire game that they experienced, as they experienced it. It was hard to describe it when he wanted to simply gush about the technology he did understand quite well.

"Well... Cardinal is Sword Art Online's proprietary AI responsible for creating almost all of the game's content. The game is almost entirely procedurally generated by Cardinal, except for some pre-programmed elements like the floors and bosses. But it controls so much else! It creates quests, adjusts monster spawn rates, determines the amount of experience points they drop..." He spoke rapidly, pausing to inhale sharply before continuing.

"...and it also keeps track of bugs and fixes them in real time! Cardinal is seriously powerful, it has to be some of the most advanced AI created to date. It can change the geography of the game if it needs to. In reality, if the game ever seems too unfair or unbalanced, its probably something not touched by Cardinal. Some people even think that it can capture your entire likeness and can create a perfect AI body double, completely indistinguishable from the real you!"

By the time he finished his explanation, he was catching his breath. Even then, he felt unsatisfied, wanting to delve into more detail about how Cardinal designed monsters in real-time, developed their behaviors, and balanced them based on how players interacted with the world. It all seemed impossible, as if it were the work of an omnipotent god designing the world to their liking. The more he thought about it, though, wasn't that more or less the case here anyway?

"If you think the NerveGear tech is impressive, lemme tell ya, the game wouldn't be a quarter of what it is without Cardinal. We'd all be fighting the same ten enemies with the same ten attack patterns, just with different skins on different floors, just like any other MMO."

In the realm of player discourse, conversations often revolved around playing the game, discussions centered on exploiting it for personal gain, immersed in numbers and efficiency. The opportunity to engage in a conversation about the game itself, despite a brief episode of self-induced paranoia, was invigorating for Takao. He became fully engrossed, unaware that the last patrons had departed, and evening seamlessly transitioned into night. The warm lights within his café mirrored the gentle glow of a late evening, creating an atmosphere of quiet tranquility, and made that transition almost unnoticeable.

❖

Takao's mind raced, grappling with the unsettling notion that his plight, the struggles within the death game, could potentially be exploited for someone else's gain—perhaps even manipulated for sinister purposes. Paranoia gripped him, and he ventured into wild thoughts, contemplating whether the NerveGear had the ability to delve into his mind. The fear lingered: could merely thinking these ideas lead to his erasure from existence? If the technology could read minds, wiping the collective memory of his existence seemed an effortless task. His body slumped in the chair, head rolling back, and a low, throaty groan escaped him.

"Just 'cause he wouldn't doesn't mean the military couldn't just swoop in and take over," he sighed, the weight of the possibility settling heavily on his shoulders. "But... no shot that actually happened, right..? Nah, no way, there's gotta be so much publicity around this. My mom would be so pissed if they were using my brain for nefarious purposes."

In silence, Takao sat and listened to Kyo. His arms folded and he let her words guide his thoughts, considering a few possibilities that hadn't made it through the jumbled thoughts buzzing in his head like TV static. Even with those ideas, Takao couldn't shake the feeling that its potential was wholly wasted here. No matter how beautiful and impressive Aincrad was, the potential to help people overshadowed it.

In contemplative silence, Takao absorbed Kyo's words, his arms folding as her thoughts guided his own. A few possibilities emerged from the chaotic buzz in his mind, yet the pervasive feeling of wasted potential clung to him. For all the beauty and impressiveness of Aincrad, the missed opportunities to aid people overshadowed its grandeur.

"That's true..." he responded, lifting his head slightly. "It'd be pretty great if you were old and frail. Letting you do all the things you wish you could... That's not even mentioning Cardinal, which seems to be creating things by itself to constantly generate new game content... Agh, no matter how I look at it, this really is the worst use!" Takao huffed, a tangible frustration evident in his voice. "What a dumbass!"

Suddenly, Takao's head snapped up, and he shifted in his seat. The chopsticks, still held in his hands and subtly fiddled with throughout, were now pointed directly at Kyo. Otoko startled at the sudden movement; he had finished his meal and laid down on the table, but now he was up and alert on all fours.

"I'll tell you what, nothing pisses me off more than wasted potential, and this game reeks of it! I hope that guy can hear all this, 'cause now I wanna give him a piece of my mind." Takao's arms folded, and his shoulders squared with determination. However, that determination swiftly waned as another possibility crossed his mind. His eyes turned skyward, glancing back and forth with a nervous laugh.

"Uh... unless he can instantly kill me—in which case, I take it back and this game is great!"

❖

Takao sat with his hands resting gently in his lap, and his undivided attention fixated on Kyo. Each syllable that flowed from her lips seemed to act as a catalyst, stirring the gears of his mind into motion. Until this moment, he had been content perceiving Sword Art Online as a cutting-edge video game, pushing the boundaries of technological prowess. The broader implications of its application beyond mere gaming had never truly crossed his mind, with fleeting thoughts about military use lingering on the outskirts of his consciousness. Now, however, those rusty gears began to churn with newfound vigor.

"Training sim..." he echoed, his gaze wandering into the realms of contemplation before snapping back to meet Kyo's eyes. "We're definitely gonna retain muscle memory since this is all in our heads, right? I bet professional athletes could use this to train even if they're injured. Maybe there's even a world where contact sports are played through this technology to completely eliminate injuries." he mused, his hand gravitating thoughtfully to his chin, lost in the hypothetical landscape of revolutionary advancements spurred by the game's now two-year-old technology.

"On top of that, the Sword Art system totally moves your body without any effort on our part, but I remember all the moves even without using them myself. It's like those people that listen to textbooks while they sleep, but its real!" His gaze descended to his own hands, fingers flexing in rhythm with recollections of the intricate choreography his virtual avatar effortlessly executed. Despite his real-world clumsiness, the intricate sequences of maneuvers seemed imprinted on his mind, like a virtual muscle memory ready to be transposed onto his physical form.

"I wonder if you could use a virtual avatar as a surrogate to control robots in the real world... it blocks your physical movements; why not transfer those signals?" His words, now spoken with a hushed intensity, reflected the musings of a mind wandering into uncharted territories of imagination.

Kyo redirected his attention by gesturing with chopsticks toward the empty bowl, prompting Takao to peer into its void, where trace remnants of his finished meal lingered.

"Gonezo? Completely?" He repeated, his head tilting with a hint of curiosity.

"Woah. That's like, totally dangerous. My best friend--" A momentary pause punctuated his words, having spoken faster than his head could think. "Well, he used to play games for so long he'd forget to eat normally. They'll have to slap on warnings for sure, like those old games that would pop up and be like... You've been playing for too long, take a break! Not that I ever listened to those, anyways."

Takao leaned back in his chair, a palpable sense of overwhelm settling over him, the deluge of thoughts and theories flooding his consciousness.

"Man, what a waste. Seriously! I mean, this game is cool and all, but now that I've thought about it, isn't this like... the most underwhelming way to use this tech?" His arms folded, and his cheeks puffed out in contemplation.

"I still have this idea that you don't actually die when you... die." His squinted eyes conveyed a sentiment that struggled to find its way into words. "I dunno... Maybe this is all just a big social experiment or something. Like, what happens when you horribly traumatize a generation of gamers... or maybe we're the military experiment!" The squint shifted suddenly to a mixture of shock and fear.

"Aw man..! What if we're guinea pigs for the military!" His hands dragged down his cheeks. "I don't wanna be the new-gen MKULtra..."

❖

Takao radiated an aura of comfort and camaraderie, thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of engaging in conversation, a welcome change from the solace of the kitchen. The delicate clinking of chopsticks against porcelain served as a rhythmic accompaniment, a soothing backdrop to the lively exchange with Kyo. As he huddled over the bowl of noodles, his chopsticks created a constant stream, each slurp a testament to his evident enthusiasm for the meal. Short breaks punctuated this gastronomic journey, a strategically placed strip of grilled beef acting as a palate cleanser amid the indulgent feast.

The culinary experience presented a pleasant departure for Takao, a respite from the sweetness that typified his routine of managing a café throughout the day. Though he refrained from directly partaking in the desserts himself, the mere proximity to the array of sweets occasionally left him feeling sugar-sick. These nuanced pleasures became Aincrad's subtle gifts—insignificant yet profound moments that allowed him to unwind after a demanding day's work, surrounded by good company and an great meal. In these instances, the looming uncertainty of escaping the death game faded momentarily, and these experiences became essential anchors, preserving his sanity and grounding him in the present, even if that realization eluded him in the moment.

Takao's focus oscillated seamlessly between activities. When engrossed in his food, his attention fixated on the intricate dance of flavors and textures unfolding within the bowl. However, a perceptible shift occurred when Kyo's comment piqued his interest, prompting his gaze to wander beyond the confines of the meal. As Kyo expressed her appreciation for the food, Takao's eyes sparkled and a radiant smile illuminated his face with a sense of accomplishment. Crafting dishes that not only satisfied hunger but also stirred genuine delight in his customers filled him with a quiet pride.

"Thanks, glad you like it! Meals are way better with company. Stop by anytime, really!" he warmly invited, effortlessly plucking a strip of beef from the bowl with his chopsticks. He tossed it into the air, where Otoko, ever vigilant, leapt up to catch the treat with evident delight. He sat near the edge of the table and tore into the beef strip. Compared to Kyo's voracious appetite, Takao exhibited a degree of restraint, albeit by a slim margin. He navigated through his meal with an almost frenetic pace, as if he had somewhere to be urgently, despite lacking any external obligations.

With a hushed slurp of noodles, Takao maintained a quiet focus on Kyo as she elaborated on her fascination with the game. His eyebrows elevated, and he leaned in with a discernible expression of interest. A journalist? Well, that was an unexpected revelation, and suddenly, the fragments of her earlier muttered comments, which he had just barely caught, began to coalesce into a more coherent picture. This chance encounter had just elevated itself by a considerable degree and now his attention was fully enraptured.

With a genuine curiosity in his voice, Takao responded, "That's way cool, Kyo! Full-Dive is a game-changer. Imagine what games will be like, maybe five years from now! I mean... if games can even get any better. I wonder if the military is using this kind of tech-- or maybe they already have been for a while, they usually get their hands on stuff first, don't they?"

He snickered appreciatively at Kyo's unique approach to reporting, acknowledging the unintentional commitment within the context of their shared predicament. "Talk about boots-on-the-ground reporting. No shot there's anybody else stuck in here that's a reporter, right? You'll have one hell of a first-hand account for your story when this is all over. Are you still gonna write it?"

Acknowledging the potential skepticism that might surround his optimism, Takao recognized the gravity of their situation. Far from being naive, he had navigated the perils and losses within the game with a grim familiarity, his experiences accumulating to the point where he was running out of fingers to count them on. Yet, in the face of adversity, having something to anticipate kept him moving forward in measured increments. A potential gym partner and the prospect of an intriguing article, detailing the death game from the unique perspective of an embedded player, stood as his two newest sources of motivation.

Within mere minutes of commencing his meal, Takao adeptly maneuvered the chopsticks, effortlessly lifting the bowl to savor its entire contents. Not a solitary drop remained, a testament to his efficient consumption. Setting the chopsticks delicately on the rim of the bowl, he gently placed both utensil and vessel down, concluding the culinary experience with a contented exhale.

"Oh, and I can help you out if you want some pointers on getting started, if you'd like. I got a late start like you did after all, so I can empathize!" The offer, initially intended as a proactive gesture, had been momentarily shelved in light of the captivating revelation that Kyo was in the throes of reporter training. The prospect of extending a helping hand to a fellow player who, like him, had embarked on their Aincrad journey with a delayed commencement, rekindled his eagerness to assist.

❖

Takao's expression morphed into a mix of surprise and amusement as Kyo's response unveiled an unexpected twist. Her humorless grin in response to his weight lament prompted a quizzical raise of his eyebrows. However, as she pushed her chair back and turned to face him, revealing her open jacket, midriff-baring top, and the remarkably defined abs beneath, Takao's surprise transformed into starry-eyed wonder.

"I'm not exactly happy about it either," she remarked, her tone carrying a blend of wry humor and determination. She showcased the results of her hard work, and the abs on display spoke volumes about her dedication.

"Holy moly, you can grate cheese on those things! Are you like, a professional athlete or something?" he exclaimed, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone as he marveled at Kyo's impressive physique. The depressive thoughts that had lingered just moments ago were now completely forgotten, replaced by a sudden surge of determination. With a spirited gesture, he slapped his right hand—balled into a fist—into the waiting palm of his left.

"Hell yeah, gym buddies!" Takao declared enthusiastically, his eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and determination. "I'm all in! I'm gonna learn how to do those crazy one legged dragon squats! Hey, hold that thought!"

Takao's vivacious and scatter-brained characteristics took center stage as he excused himself from the table, disappearing into the bustling domain of the kitchen. While he personally relished the tactile experience of cooking, he couldn't deny the efficiency of the system, swiftly transforming raw ingredients and his culinary expertise into complete meals. In a matter of mere minutes, he reemerged from the kitchen, bearing a plate and a bowl, a testament to the system's remarkable speed and convenience.

The spicy chicken, meticulously arranged on the plate, bore the artistic touch of Takao's culinary finesse. A sprinkle of parsley adorned the dish, creating a visually pleasing contrast with the reddish-orange hue of the spicy rub and sauce, each dot of green accentuating the overall presentation. While the system played its part in the cooking process, it was Takao's discerning will that molded the aesthetic appeal of the meal. Placing the plate before Kyo, he mirrored the action with a bowl, from which tendrils of steam gracefully billowed. The rich broth contained a harmonious medley of noodles, greens, and delicate strips of beef, an unmistakable nod to a Japanese interpretation of the Vietnamese classic, Pho.

"There you go, one plate of spicy chicken. Bon appétit!" Takao declared with a warm smile as he settled into the seat opposite Kyo. He indulged in a few mouthfuls before turning his attention to her lingering question, a remnant from their earlier conversation.

"I was gonna dungeon hunt with some friends, but they went on without me. Its okay though, I do the same to them sometimes."  he admitted with a chuckle, a hint of nervousness coloring his tone. Shifting the focus, he observed Kyo's evident interest in the intricacies of the game.

"You seem pretty interested in the way the game works, asking about the NPCs and all that. Any plans on how you'll start leveling up?" he inquired, genuinely curious about her approach to navigating the virtual world of Aincrad. "Oh-- and I'm Takao, by the way!"

❖

TAKAO | 840 HP | 118 EN
23 DMG | 78 MIT | 4 ACC | 3 EVA

notes:

Inquisitively, Takao's head tilted as he absorbed her response. Their reasons for venturing beyond the safety of the first floor were akin, yet subtly different. Where his motivation stemmed from a potent mix of wanderlust and boredom, hers was propelled by an aspiration for the front lines. While he refrained from vocalizing his own reflections, recognizing that certain experiences needed to be lived to be fully understood, he remained attentive to her words. His focus shifted to her concluding remarks, and a visible deflation of spirits accompanied a sigh.

"Don't remind me," He whined. "I was just starting to put on weight before all this... Now I'll be a skeleton forever when this is over." Despite the lingering smile, his countenance betrayed a hint of somber resignation rather than unbridled joy. Takao made a conscious effort to avoid dwelling on the real-life implications of their virtual entrapment, reserving those thoughts for the rare occasions when stark reminders surfaced.

"Anyhow, you'll be chums with Otoko in no time." His green eyes flickered towards the familiar, whose attention was instantly piqued at the mere mention of something spicy. His hand rose and scratched the top of his head. "He's always trying to sneak spices into the sweets. Keeps things interesting, that's for sure."

Her observations about Otoko, referring to the AI as his familiar, caught Takao by surprise. As his gaze lingered on the small red dragon, a visual representation of intricate numbers and code, he found it challenging to perceive Otoko as a mere programmed entity. The time spent with his digital companion had blurred the lines between artificial intelligence and genuine personality in Takao's eyes-- was that unhealthy? While not an entirely novel thought, an old contemplation resurfaced, one he typically didn't delve into too deeply.

"Its kind of a spectrum. Some quests might have you questioning whether the NPCs aren't actually alive, given the depth of their characters and storylines. Other times, you'll catch onto the patterns right away." he explained, grateful for the diversion from the earlier introspection.

A distinct blip seized his attention, the unmistakable signal of an incoming private message. His eyes shifted within his Heads-Up Display, acknowledging the notification. The message hailed from his group, the companions he intended to embark on a hunt with shortly, notifying him that they had forged ahead without him. Reflecting on his own solo excursions, Takao couldn't bring himself to blame them; this was merely a taste of his own medicine.

"Ah, man. Looks like we got left behind, buddy. No dungeons tonight," Takao sighed, his tone carrying a tinge of resignation. However, there was an underlying nonchalance, suggesting that the prospect of solo exploration still held appeal. After all, he could always venture out alone later if the inclination struck him. Takao's focus shifted back to Kyo.

"Looks like my evening just opened up. How about some spicy chicken then, my treat? Even if it's all a game, you can't beat a good meal." he proposed with a smile.

❖

A grin adorned Takao's face as he carefully placed the delectable dessert on the porcelain saucer in front of Kyo. His eyes followed her gaze, oblivious to the subtle rotation of a green crystal just out of sight. Her remarks about the affordability of the food immediately piqued his curiosity, and a fleeting concern crossed his mind, entertaining the idea that perhaps he had priced his offerings too steeply. However, as he observed her fatigued appearance and the simplicity of her attire—reminiscent of the basic armors found on the lowest floors—a realization dawned on him.

"Ah! You're fresh out of the Town of Beginnings, aren't you?" His arms folded, one remaining loosely gestured as he pointed vaguely. "Not many player shops down there, right?"

The scene resonated with immediate familiarity; Takao had once been in her position. His own fears had kept him trapped in the Town of Beginnings for quite some time after the game of death began, finding solace in exploring its myriad expand of hidden corners. Eventually he grew restless and sought out more of what Aincrad had to offer, maybe she was doing the same?

"Don't worry too much about the prices. The simpler meals without buffs are actually really affordable." He casually tossed the towel he had been toying with over his shoulder and leaned in, directing her attention to two options on the menu: a four-cheese grilled cheese and a refreshing garden salad, both priced for a paltry sum of col. "The grilled cheese is my personal favorite, and the garden salad is perfect if you're in the mood for something lighter."

As the conversation flowed, a surge of pride washed over Takao at the mention of his industrious familiar. He beamed at the question and laughed at her apparent disbelief.

"Yup! That's Otoko. Otoko, c'mere a sec!" He called for the diminutive red dragon, just barely larger than a house cat, who bounded out of the kitchen doorway. On all fours, Otoko approached Takao's side, then leaped onto his shoulder. Perched on his trapezius, Kyo enjoyed an unobstructed view of Otoko. The small dragon boasted smooth red scales complemented by a pale underbelly. His large, round orange eyes held a certain expressiveness, conveying a sense of curiosity and intelligence. Notably, five horns adorned his head, with two of them forming what appeared to be a pair of remarkably expressive ears. Jagged teeth protruded from his maw, which was curved into a slight perpetual grin. "He's my familiar, practically runs this place when I'm away. Sometimes, it feels like he's the one actually in charge. The place is named after him."

"So, what brings you here? This floor isn't anything special, I don't think."

❖

As the radiant sun descended beneath the virtual horizon, its parting beams painted the cityscape of Taft in a breathtaking palette of amber and indigo. The resonant tolling of the Cathedral bell echoed through the towering structures and labyrinthine streets, heralding the onset of a tranquil haven amid the digital tumult—a charming café nestled comfortably between unassuming walls of red brick. A crimson cloth canopy, suspended on an intricately designed metal frame, extended gracefully over the outdoor seating, spilling onto the narrow street below. This architectural embrace created a serene enclave, inviting patrons to immerse themselves in the ethereal glow of virtual sunlight. Each wrought-iron table, adorned with four plush, cushioned chairs, issued an irresistible invitation for visitors to linger, encouraging them to savor their coffee amidst the enchanting surroundings. The tables themselves were adorned with petite vases, their blossoms overflowing with vibrant hues, introducing captivating splashes of color to the tableau. At this time of day, the majority of these charming tables found themselves already claimed by patrons, a testament to the cafe's allure and popularity.

Upon crossing the threshold, an assault on the senses unfolded—a harmonious blend of the familiar embrace of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet allure of pastries. The air buzzed with a melodic hum of friendly chatter, punctuated by the delicate clinking of porcelain against saucers. In the background, a soft ambient melody played, weaving a soothing symphony that danced with the occasional burst of laughter. The interior, a refuge from the hustle outside, gradually transformed from the initial bustling activity to a more subdued ambiance within an hour of the Cathedral bell's resonant toll.

Guiding the rhythm of this enchanted space was a diminutive red dragon, Otoko, navigating the chaos with remarkable agility. Even the most casual observer would swiftly discern his role as the sole waiter—interpreting orders through gestures and menu-pointing, then swiftly darting to the kitchen only to reemerge moments later with a metal tray bearing the coveted delights. Despite his petite stature and solitary responsibility, Otoko seamlessly moved through the crowd, a testament to his efficiency and charm. However, he wasn't toiling in solitude; a voice echoed from behind the kitchen flaps, adding a harmonious layer to the orchestrated dance of the café ambiance.

"Otoko, 86 on the matcha swiss rolls!" Takao's voice echoed through the bustling café, commanding the attention of the wingless red dragon familiar. Otoko, in response, offered a wordless affirmation with a clawed thumbs up before swiftly darting back onto the lively floor. Behind the billowing curtains that partitioned the kitchen from the dining area, Takao found himself immersed in a mosaic of system menus, each flickering option a gateway to the culinary orchestra he conducted. Just beyond this digital tableau lay a sizzling grill, where the more substantial dishes sizzled and wafted enticing aromas into the air. Patiently, Takao awaited the timer prompts, knowing that, in this fantastical realm, the virtual recipes practically cooked themselves. It was a comforting thought, especially considering the relentless pace of the café, that Takao wasn't feeling the least bit overwhelmed. So preoccupied in his work was he that the only thoughts he had were on the next order yet to come through the doors. Perhaps, despite the ease of the virtual world, the green-haired chef had discovered an unexpected talent. But even so, in the real world, how could one person do all of this?

As Otoko reappeared in a rush, Takao handed over a platter ready for service, a well-rehearsed exchange between chef and dragon. The familiar, with the platter now cradled in his claws, swiftly departed once again, a synchronized duo navigating the intricate dance of a virtual café. Well, maybe he wasn't just one person, Takao mused with a wry smile.

A glance at the clock on the wall revealed that closing time was imminent. Simultaneously, Otoko re-entered the kitchen, poised to retrieve the next platter. However, Takao preempted the dragon's hurried departure with a declaration that hung in the air.

"Last order, bud. We'll close up soon and take a break before we meet up with the group." The words marked a temporary reprieve from the virtual hustle, a brief interlude before the impending rendezvous with comrades. Takao felt guilty making them wait this long, he knew how eager they were to hunt for dungeons. Just as he was beginning to clean up and wipe off his hands, Takao noticed an unclaimed dessert sitting on the table behind him. His head tilted, who was that for again? There were no tickets left, he must have made an extra. Just as he'd come to realization, the sound of the front door's bell rang, signaling that somebody had entered.

"Huh. Good timing." Takao said to himself as he lifted the dessert and made his way out of the kitchen. He stopped at the table with the newcomer and greeted them with a smile.

"Welcome to the Red Dragon Café!" He chirped gleefully. "I happened to make an extra dessert. Its all yours if you'd like, on the house! A free sample while you check out the menu."

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