I had a strange dream.
I was in a laboratory, eating a hamburger. Just as I was about to take another bite, a rough hand slammed it to the floor. Before I could react, the same hand forced me around and shoved a spatula into my hand.
—Hurry up and flip the burgers! — the manager ordered.
Still crushed over my burger, I started cooking nonstop, flipping patty after patty. The customers multiplied in front of me, forming an endless line that never seemed to shrink.
Desperate, I went to ask the manager for help, and as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was swallowed by a metallic, piercing sound… an alarm.
The scene shattered, and I woke up with aches all over my body, the musty smell of my apartment, and the relentless, piercing sound of my old cellphone alarm. The sun hadn't even risen yet
—Sigh
—Even in my dreams, I can't escape work… — This routine is slowly killing my soul. I dragged myself to the closet and put on the same clothes I always wore.
I started preparing what I called breakfast: instant noodles—the same ones I'd been eating for three months straight. Before coming to this parallel world, I actually liked them. Now, just the smell made me nauseous.
—You can do this… — I murmured, holding my breath before shoving it all into my mouth at once. The taste was monotonous and sickening, but hunger was worse.
After so much time, I had become a professional at devouring noodles quickly. If there were a speedrun competition for instant noodles, I'd definitely be at the top.
I swallowed some vitamin supplements and my usual painkillers. Then, I went down the narrow stairs of my tiny apartment. Outside, I headed straight for my only precious possession in this parallel world: my beloved bicycle.
As soon as I arrived, the first thing I heard:
—Alex, you're late! Start cleaning the tables, we're about to open!—
"Good morning to you too" — I hadn't even properly arrived at work, and the manager was already on my case. He had a massive build and an intimidating face. I was sure he had gotten into fights back in high school.
On my way to the pantry, I bumped into a coworker who looked hungover. He gave me a knowing look and nodded.
"Hey, what's with that look? I'm not hungover, just sleep-deprived and malnourished." — I didn't say anything, just returned the nod and moved on.
I guess the transition had broken me… or maybe it was just this routine. I'd lost the ability to remember people's names, so I started giving them nicknames. This coworker, for example, I called Coworker 2, simply because we worked together.
After eight hours at that job, I went to my other job, working as a clerk at a 24-hour store. I swapped shifts with Coworker 3, and after more work in the middle of the night, I was finally free to go home and sleep.
Social life? What's that? Ever since arriving in this world, all I've done is work… and work.
It's been three months since I was discharged from the hospital. Since then, I've been pushing myself as hard as possible to gain calories.
—Status—
[Anti-Entropy (Ordo)]: Consumes energy to reduce informational chaos, transforming it into knowledge.
[Zen Mode]: With Ordo's help, enters a low-chaos mental state, maintaining focus and clarity at a constant energy cost.
[Editing]: With Ordo's help, allows modification of Alex Benjamin.
The description just said "energy," without specifying the type. So I tried other forms of fuel that weren't my body… Result? Only bruises and stomach aches.
My goal is to enter Zen Mode, use Editing, and transform my body or mind. That way, I can earn money, and with money, finally eat better, speeding up my weight gain and allowing even more edits. A cycle of progress that depends solely on strategy… and endurance.
—I gained two kilos this month, so I should be able to activate it — I took a deep breath.
And I tried: —Activate [Zen Mode]
I felt a momentary weakness, then the response came.
[Insufficient Energy]
—Damn. — I was the one who set the system's safety limit. If it determined that using the mode could endanger my body, it would block activation. I regretted it a little; I should have set the safety limit a bit lower.
Should I bypass the limiter?" — I hesitated. Since I designed the system myself, of course I left a way to override the limiter in case of emergencies.
"Calm down, I only have one life. I survived three months, so I can handle two more without going insane. Come on, Alex, you can do this" — While motivating myself, I started preparing to sleep.