And just like that, I popped awake inside my cozy (read: slightly claustrophobic) shack by the Labyrinth wall, precisely as my internal "Isekai-o-Meter" had predicted. One day, the golden apple had promised. One day. But oh, how I'd wrung every single drop of experience out of those loops. What? You want to know every little detail of my perfect date? Sorry, hot stuff, but I don't kiss and tell. Hee hee.
Right, enough dilly-dallying. My stomach, which had apparently decided to throw a full-blown hunger strike, was making angry, rumbling threats. I needed to forage, and fast.
I strapped on my heroic ensemble—black studded leather armor, hood, satchel, and enough pointy objects to make a porcupine jealous—and ventured forth. First stop: the familiar fountain. I splashed some icy water on my face, drank my fill, and topped off my trusty zagboo canteen. For a moment, I pulled up my Google Maps to plot my monster-dodging itinerary. What? You really want to know what happened on the date? Fine, fine, jeez! You don't need to shout. My ears are still ringing from all the excitement. Let me tell you what went down. I double-checked my gear. Alright, let's go.
So, picture this: Mimi and I, nestled in a small pares place near my old university. Not just any pares, mind you, but the legendary "gold tier" kind. The eatery was tiny, the kind of place where your elbows accidentally become best friends with the next table's. We snagged the prime corner booth by the window. Early morning meant we were the only customers, so no awkward audience for my charming self. We ordered, and as we chatted, the blush that had clung to her face like a shy barnacle during my grand gesture slowly faded, replaced by genuine giggles at my undeniably corny jokes. She told me about finishing her degree, her dreams, her plans. The air was thick with warmth and the aroma of cooking, our faces glistening slightly, the wall fan bravely battling the humidity, offering only temporary surrender. It was quality time, the kind that had stubbornly eluded my previous, less-refined reset attempts. She was genuinely nice, wonderfully down-to-earth, and frankly, I was digging it. Like, really digging it.
General Awareness:
Rhynodillo:
Description: Car-sized, thick leathery hide, two small rhino horns. Long, prehensile tapir snout. Tusks and aggressive temper of a wild boar. Mottled grey and black skin.
Just as Mimi was explaining the finer points of thesis writing, a lone rhynodillo, a walking armored tank with a nose like a vacuum cleaner, emerged from a nearby bush, casually munching on some foliage. Uno momento, señor, pulling off my best dramatic dive behind a convenient ruin. Then, because apparently I'd graduated from Sneaking 101, I jump-rolled into a bush, then behind a tree, then another ruin slab. Nailed it! I actually paused to pat myself on the back (metaphorically, of course, wouldn't want to break cover) and continued my internal narration.
Anyway, back to the date! Then came the actual moment of truth. The pares, smoking hot and overflowing with extra toppings, arrived. It sat in front of us, literally glowing with an otherworldly shimmer, and the smell… oh, the smell was a symphony for the nose, a mouth-watering overture to culinary bliss. I immediately offered her a bowl with my best gentlemanly flourish, "Mademoiselle." She shot me a playful smirk and a soft "Thank you."
"It's judging time!" she declared with a laugh, doing an elaborate stretch, brandishing her spoon and fork like tiny, delicious weapons. "Is it up to her standards? Or will Kiko's recommended pares be a sham? Drum roll, please!" I obliged, drumming a rapid-fire rhythm on the plastic table. She took a delicate sip of the stew's soup, the suspense hanging heavier than a fully loaded backpack. Oh, the suspense was killing me! Then, she wiped her brow with a tissue paper—a true connoisseur move—and gave me two thumbs up, followed by a cute, victorious smile. "Ding ding ding! Winner!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide and starry, "5-stars!"
And then, just like a switch flipped, the atmosphere changed. It wasn't a date anymore; it was war. Our eyes locked, a spark flying between us like rival gods sizing each other up. We grabbed our utensils, and to the sound of an imaginary battle horn, we zipped our hands across the table—spoonfuls of rice, forkfuls of beef chunks, and soup—with a finesse that would make a ninja chef weep. It was savage. Extra rice disappeared faster than goblins from a sunbeam, no grain nor stew spared. We finished, a chorus of satisfied burps punctuated by a triumphant cheers with plastic cups of soda, before bursting into laughter. I confessed that Carlos and I had haunted this place ever since we'd discovered it in uni, and the best part? It was cheap, and the owner was a nice old man who treated us like family.
"Squoink, squoink, squoink." I glanced around. Nothing but some rabboar happily frolicking in the distance, their squishy, pig-rabbit hybrid forms enjoying the morning sun. I slipped past them, stealth mode firmly engaged.
General Awareness:
Rabboar:
Description: Fluffy, long ears, built like a wild boar, digs burrows, multiplies fast, omnivorous. Max speed 30 kph. Males have tusks. Lives in packs. Has thick hide. Attacks only when threatened or cornered
We continued talking, the pares-fueled battle temporarily forgotten. She shared a deeper part of her story. Her father died when she was seven. Her mom, unable to cope with two young kids, Mimi and her younger sister, had just... vanished. Mimi believed that was why her mom left them, and she hadn't seen her since. Eventually, her father's older sister—a successful businesswoman, single, strict, a disciplinarian with a bad temper and a tongue sharper than my sword-knife—took them in. Mimi said she was okay with the strictness, but she felt like her tita's personal errand girl and secretary, and knew she couldn't live like that forever. That's why she was busting her butt to finish her studies while working, to prove to herself and to her tita that she could do it. Oh, a rebel with a heart, I like that. Her story was a real tear-jerker, the kind that gets its own episode on MMK. I was holding it together like a real man out there, you know. You should've seen me. My eyes may have watered a little.
Aaah, finally, the peachmango tree. My stomach, ever a slave to its own whims, was rumbling again. After tasting a month's worth of delicacies in the loops, the simple peachmango fruit felt almost bearable, practically a daily ration. Let's gather some fruits and eat some while we're at it. I plucked a ripe fruit from a branch and took a satisfying bite.
I knew I couldn't possibly top her story with my own epic saga of video games, call center woes, and accidental Isekai adventures. What was I going to say? "Yeah, I played computer games as a kid, in high school, uni, and, oh yeah, I just survived a golem attack last night"? Not exactly a good impression builder. So I stuck to the tried-and-true responses: "Wow, really," "That's sad," "Tell me more." I don't really like talking about myself much. I just want to listen to others' stories without prejudice, because to me, everyone is facing different kinds of monsters, missions, quests, and side quests that I know nothing about or see. You learn by listening; then, when you face a similar situation, you'll remember others' stories on how they conquered it or how they failed, and use that as a baseline. If you know what I mean. It's like collecting strategy guides for life.
I could've used my last reset to recreate another perfect memory with Mimi, but I didn't want to risk messing up what had gone so wonderfully. I'd already spent a couple of resets just getting this far, after all. I kept one reset as a backup plan, just in case, but the day had unfolded so wonderfully and memorably, I hadn't needed it. It was funny, though: even in my old world, I felt like I was playing a game rather than just living it, all thanks to those loop mechanics. I knew I would pop back to my new reality—this one—eventually.
"Wait, shush," I whispered, my ears perking up like a highly tuned antenna. "I can hear something." Then an explosion, thick and heavy, echoed from a distance, rattling the ancient walls of the Labyrinth.