Isekai Speedrun

I returned to Starfish Mansion and went straight to Crys’ room.

They were waiting for me. Crys sat on a wing chair next to a fireplace like a Bond villain and Kimono stood next to the chair resting her left elbow on the right wing of the chair. Giving a report under these circumstances felt like having an audience with a demon king.

“Where’s the welcome back party? I assume Thiefmaster hasn’t caused trouble yet?”
“Report.” (Crys)
“Sure, I’ll skip the details because we need to move fast. Good news and bad news, bad news first: Thiefmaster is still alive, he killed T-Sub, the twins split and went after Stick Witch, and I was forced to reveal Starfish Mansion’s location to Thiefmaster. He’s coming this way, or he might be nearby in disguise already. We need to–”
“Wait.” (Crys)

Crys raised his hand to stop me and leaned back on his chair, deep in thought.

“...Should I repeat the bad news?”
“No.” (Crys)

Crys turned to Kimono.

“Call Steep Ear Second and send urgent message to all groups: stop all messengers heading out of Wineep and surrounding areas. Do not allow a single letter to leave Wineep Isthmus.” (Crys)
“Yes, brother.” (Kimono)

Kimono left the room to deliver Crys’ order. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing.

“Wait, you think Thiefmaster is going to send letters containing info about Starfish Mansion’s location?”
“I would do it.” (Crys)
“To Sultanate? To Dark Murderers and Princes of Darkness?”
“The same people I sent letters about him.” (Crys)
“Shii... I didn’t think about that at all. I assumed he's coming straight up here himself. You’re right, he might do that. I messed up, huh?”
“No, this works.” (Crys)
“Works how?”
“Wait.”
“Oh, right, let’s wait for her to come back.”

After a while, Kimono returned to the room. She held her breath while walking past me.

“Sorry, Kim, I know I smell like a street junkie.”
“Tch.” (Kimono)
“Continue your report. Explain the staff tied to your hand.” (Crys)
“Yea, this is the good news. I glitched.“
“You succeeded in producing the causally orphaned event you’ve been trying to cast since we met?” (Crys)
“Yep. Weird space magic for the win.”
“Details.” (Crys)
“Yes, I’m in good health despite how I look and smell. Thanks for asking. You must’ve been really worried about me.”
“...” (Crys)
“Okay then, long story short: I’m somewhat immune to physical damage as I long as I hold this staff. Well, theoretically, the effect should persist as long as I equip this flagstaff, or at least it has persisted until now. I haven’t tried to let go because I don’t know if I can retrigger it. I’d probably have to go back to the Sparkling Source, or maybe if there’s some other Strangers hubsite–”
“No speculations. How does it work?” (Crys)
“Well, the point damage I receive is distributed to all my body parts, and into every item I carried during the glitch trig. The flagstaff itself is sturdy, but it’s not indestructible, so there are still limits on how much damage I can take and how much the flagstaff can take. But then again, all point damage to my body should be at least halved, even if I didn’t carry anything else except the flagstaff. On the other hand, if someone grabs the staff and rips it off my hand, it most probably cancels the glitch, so my left hand grip is practically my Achilles’ Heel.”
“Achilles Heel?” (Crys)
“Achilles was this guy in an old myth – ah, that’s an unrelated tangent, ask me about it later. What I’m saying is that separating my hand from this staff is probably my weakness. I’m not actually sure what happens to me if the glitch is canceled because I triggered it using a different hammerspace. Like, the burning flag in the Source dimension might instajump back to the staff or something weird like that. I don’t want to do a cancel test for the glitch because my HP was pretty low and I was forced to ingest the Midnight Rust pill on my sleeve before I got the glitch, so I might be in deep trouble–”
“Stop.” (Crys)

Crys narrowed his eyes in deep thought. I tried to explain everything as fast as possible so I could get some rest, but Crys kept kept stopping me.

“...A deep cut is distributed between all body parts as shallow scratches. A poison drop that kills a normal person dissolves into your body like a grain of sand in a bucket of clean water, permeating both your organs and possessions, doing nothing. Thus, if I were to kill you, I would need to saturate the bucket with enough poison to turn it turbid.” (Crys)
“Um, that’s a scary analogy coming from you, but I guess that’s the gist of it, yes. Remember that futuristic ceramic body armor we talked about that distributes the projectile impact load? It’s kinda like that, so–”
“Understood. Be silent.” (Crys)

Crys wanted to think some more and Kimono looked agitated.

I should think about my own backup strats too. This is a new, strange situation for all of us, with far-reaching implications.

“Crys. We’re still cool, right?”
“Cool in what way?” (Crys)
“I mean, this thing changes our group dynamics in a big way, right? I’ve been the support guy with weak combat skills, but now I suddenly have high-level tank skills, so we’re kind of even in power level now, like the weakest guy in the group suddenly became really powerful, so some people might find that intimidating or something, not naming any names–”
“You want to find out how weak you truly are?” (Kimono)

Kimono moved between me and Crys.

“No, no, no, I’m good! I’m not a threat! My words were not a threat in any way, the very opposite of a threat in fact! Actually, let’s just forget I said anything. This doesn’t change anything. Our contract still holds, right?”
“Sure.” (Crys)
“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool, Kimono.”

Let’s change the subject and switch back to bad news.

“So, uh, Thiefmaster is still definitely heading this way, so we need to get ready. He might appear any moment out of anywhere… Or if he didn’t believe my words about this place, he might zig instead of zag and follow the original fake info you distrubuted, which means he’s heading to Cursed Forest first…”
“Obviously.” (Crys)

For some reason, Crys didn’t look that worried.

“Brother, I don’t believe he’s telling the truth.” (Kimono)

Oh come on, Kimono! Are you so perturbed by my sudden character development? Despite her bravado, she seemed to instinctively realize that she might not be able to stop me right now if I actually wanted to kill Crys.

“Kim-chan, you know me, you don’t need to worry about me. We’ve been friends for a long time. I don’t stab my friends in the back. You haven’t stabbed me in the back either, right? I react to kindness with kindness, you know that, we all know that. Even if the power balance flips, we’re still cool. Crys, tell her.”
“Speedrun thinks of us as his family and this place is his home. It is very unlikely for him to attack any of us.” (Crys)
“Brother, we are not family with him! Test Subject didn’t return!” (Kimono)
“It was an accident, Thiefmaster appeared right after Stick Witch. I made a mistake...“
“He claims it was an accident!” (Kimono)
“It really was an accident, he lost his life while saving my life. He died because I made a mistake, and I’m sorry about that, but these things happen. I mean, remember that you were the one who sent us on this quest...”

No, Qwerty, that’s the wrong thing to say right now.

“I’m not blaming you or anything, just saying... But with this new power I’ve gained, I don’t need to be saved like that anymore...”

T-Sub died. The reality of the situation suddenly hit me.

Before this, I was too busy being worried about myself.

I’ll never hear his funny voice again. He was like Watson to my Holmes, Hastings to my Poirot.

My sidekick, bodyguard, personal assistant. He was a good friend.

“...I’m sorry, Kim, I understand why you're mad, but I really couldn’t do anything to help him at that place...”
“For Dancer in the past and Test Subject today, Speedrun’s grief is genuine.” (Crys)
“Brother!” (Kimono)
“Kim, you know me. I wear a white hat, I use my powers for good. I’m not going to do anything stupid like killing my friends. We are the Revolution Movement, we’re in this together, aren’t we?”
“He confessed he took Midnight Rust! His words cannot be trusted anymore!” (Kimono)
“Yes, I had to use the drug to survive because I was in pain, but this glitch cancels the stat effects. The drug is vitiated by the glitch, I'm not a backstabbing addict in any way.”
“Speedrun knows I have Midnight on my sleeve, but he hasn't made any moves for it.” (Crys)
“That’s right, I have zero desire to take more Mid. I’m not even feeling itchy or anything. If I had to give a review, that one pill was enough for the rest of my life. But if I start showing any withdrawal symptoms, you obviously need to stop me. If this glitch wears out and I start disappearing in the bathroom a lot, you might have to, you know…”

Kimono grimaced.

“You can keep me clean without killing me, okay? Get that new healer here to take care of me, she’s our best hope if things go south.”
“He's talking like it’s our problem! Brother, we need to send people to Winter Forest and bring back Test Subject’s body to examine it and verify the truth!” (Kimono)
“Uh, I think the ice wolves, bone bears and snow spiders have already eaten him at this point...”
“Leave it, sister. It was an accident.” (Crys)
“Brother, why do you keep taking his side?!” (Kimono)

Crys stood up. Kimono stepped back immediately and bowed her head.

“...I'm sorry, brother.” (Kimono)
“You were too attached to him. He’s dead. This discussion is over.” (Crys)
“Yes, brother...” (Kimono)

I'm not shedding tears, but this is legit sad. Crys, Kim and T-Sub were a tight group from the first season onward in the anime. Even when Test Subject became an unresponsive zombie (and before Crys found the string-fingers trigger to launch T-Sub into berserk mode) it was basically Kimono’s second job to roll T-Sub around in a wheelchair and take care of him. They weren’t as close here as they were in the anime because they didn’t meet in the same way or suffer through the same tragic events, but it wasn’t strange that Kimono and T-Sub felt camaraderie in this timeline as well – perhaps because they were both serious, work-obsessed bodyguard characters; high-level professionals in the same narrow field.

And T-Sub wasn’t a weirdo who invaded Kim’s privacy with time travel magic like me, or a horny creep like Dancer, who loudly complained about the ‘stunted sizes of female chests’ in the Starfish Mansion and wanted to recruit more prostitutes.

T-Sub was a Strangers otaku, but he was a bro, a gentleman and a friend.

“T-Sub wouldn’t want us to fight. We both miss him–”
“Shut up.” (Kimono)
“Okay.”

Crys sat back down and stared at me.

“So you do not feel pain or cold in that state. However, the surroundings will keep chipping away your barrier even without the drug.” (Crys)
“Yeah, damage over time accumulates... An ironic twist, isn’t it? I kept telling you to throw your drugs away but I had to use drugs myself. And now you need to make sure I don’t lose my mind if the needle drops.”

Stupid game-balanced universe. Can’t have a single good thing without a bad thing as a trade-off.

“You might also die from your previous injuries when that glitch wears off, no?” (Crys)
“Yeah, that's the scary part. I’ll be holding onto this flagstaff for the foreseeable future like a patient to an IV pole.”
“Aivii pole?” (Crys)
“Ah, it’s this thing in future hospitals, like a metallic coat rack with wheels. Patients can walk around while being tethered to fluid bags attached to the pole… and I’m once again realizing how strange all this must sound.”
“To the people of the future all our struggles are mere theater play.” (Crys)
“Yep, can’t help it. That’s how the future rolls.”
“It would be good for you to remember Speedrun’s past, sister.” (Crys)
“...Yes, brother.” (Kimono)
“Changing the subject to bad news again: have we heard about the twins? They just went after Stick Witch and disappeared, but–”
”They were seen yesterday.” (Crys)
“Eh? They were? They didn’t quit? They came back? You could've said that earlier...”
“On the southeast side of White Forest, one of the observers spoke with them briefly. They said they were returning to Spyglass Tower. According to the report, their clothes were tattered and they looked tired and disappointed. Assuming they managed to kill the witch, it was not an easy win.” (Crys)
“Well, it’s good that they are alive, but those dinguses left me behind because they mistook normal vertigo for an infectious disease and ran amok. Sounds like they didn’t care about tracking Thiefmaster at all... Did they say anything about me?”
“Not mentioned in the report. Their disappointed probably stems from the fact that they couldn’t collect a trophy.” (Crys)
“Yeah, it’s probably that. They wouldn’t have returned otherwise. I repeatedly told them Stick Witch disappears without dropping any loot, but I guess they had to see it to believe it.”

Now that Stick Witch and Sparkling Staff are gone, Sparkling Source’s opening and closing cannot be controlled by anyone. Both tribes will flip out when the news spread. This new imbalance in Winter Forest might turn into a blood path, and that overwhelmingly favors the Source Tribe. Staff Tribe (or the remains of it) might be forced to migrate out of the forest, if they don’t want to become sacrificial slaves for the Source Tribe. Peaceful coexistence is impossible. It’s either destruction or immigration.

“The twins didn’t want to return to the mansion?”
“Apparently not.” (Crys)
“Those two need to learn how to ho-ren-so: report, inform, and consult.”

When the twins encountered Stick Witch for the first time, they didn’t have any knowledge about what it was and how it operated. They lacked weaponry to kill it, so they concluded it was an immortal ghost and decided to run. This time they succeeded killing it, most likely, but I still have to confirm it by listening their story, though.

One less boss-level enemy to worry about. And the twins made it out of the Winter Forest alive.

That’s something at least. But I’m still irritated by their ignorant behavior. I can tolerate their cruel quirks to a certain extent because keeping them on our side is such a big advantage, but if they continue with their stupid superstitious and backwards traditions, boys-will-be-boys attitude won’t cut it anymore.

“I need to have another serious discussion with them about the most basic house rules. There’s a limit on how backwards you can be.”
“Very much so. Is there anything else you want to report?” (Crys)
“I guess... No, that’s all in a nutshell. Is that all?”
“Then I will report. Soon after you left, I received a message from Reignland. Dragon Messiah has cleared the way to the Flame Tank cavern.” (Crys)
“What, already? That’s much earlier than expected...”
“This concludes reports from my side.” (Crys)
“Okay. Good report. Brief and to the point. Excellent news.”
“If there’s nothing else to discuss at this time, I will observe your newly acquired skill in the Garden Room tomorrow after breakfast.”
“Oh, good idea. I’ll arrange a tech demo. Let’s invite the whole party to the Garden Room.”
“That’s fine…” (Crys)

Hmm? I sense rare hesitation in Crys' voice. Is Crys being considerate about my tiredness by ending this meeting without hearing all the minute details? Surely not. He’s probably tired himself.

“Crys, have you been sleeping well? Kim-chan, he’s been sleeping well, right?”

Don’t just shrug your shoulders, Kim, this is important. Crys needs to sleep to avoid the hallucination episodes.

“I’ll send more members to tighten the circle around Black Forest. You will Invite Rain, Mirim and Kurdt to the Garden Room. Tell Rain to bring Sorry Man as well. Do not share information about these events to outsiders. Make up a different reason for why you must hold the staff.” (Crys)
“Sure. Info about special abilities should be kept secret, right?”
“...” (Crys)
“Why do I have this feeling that... Are you not actually surprised about how this played out? Are you trying to act like you planned for this?”
“...Ask Kurdt.” (Crys)
“About what? Did he have another freaky dream about me after we left?”
“As said before, you’re not the only one who gives advice with cryptic visions and enigmatic words.” (Crys)
“Oh-kay... You want to tell me? What did he see this time?”
“Since you do not take him seriously, he comes to me. A sacrifice for the forest was necessary to ensure a good harvest; an innocent bait left to predators lured them into a stalker’s trap.” (Crys)
“Hold up, what are you talking about? Are you talking about the blizzard dream Kurdt mentioned long time ago?”

I remember Kurdt telling me about a dream where obscure figures fought in a snowstorm created by magic and the wailing forest around them demanded a blood sacrifice.

And there was that original prophecy from the first time we met. I was supposed to go to Winter Forest first, then kill Caliph Tze.

I don’t like where this is going. Have I been dancing in Crys’ and Kurdt’s sweaty palms?

“You insisted that I need to go to Winter Forest because of Kurdt’s previous dreams, or your interpretation of his dreams? Did you start sending hints to Thiefmaster because Kurdt thinks I’m a Chosen Hero or something? I’m–“
“I told you this before.” (Crys)
“You told me what and when? Back when Thiefmaster was first spotted?”
“The world is more consistent than you think; myriad reasons converged into a calculated risk. I placed my trust on you and Kurdt, and my bet paid off. You returned glitched and Stick Witch is dead, as planned and predicted.” (Crys)
“T-Sub is dead as a sacrifice to the forest? And Thiefmaster is still alive, was that part of this risky bet on prophecy?”
“Thiefmaster won’t live for long. The future becomes what it already was.” (Crys)
“...You know, this fatalistic rot coming from your mouth sounds pretty concerning to me. You understand what I mean, right?”
“Do not pretend you don’t understand what I mean.” (Crys)
“I don’t understand, though. I’m not a fan of this new character development, I must say. Remember what I told you about those fish hallucinations in the original timeline? Please don’t replace those with Kurdt’s night time hallucinations. Pretty please?”
“It was inevitable that you four would go. Only four of you, was it not?” (Crys)

The teleportation room...?

Crap. Open world with a bottleneck. Prune your party down to four to advance. Can’t camp in the same area more than two years. Go to Winter Forest or the plot can’t move forward.

“...Railroaded. For Ernst Fuchs sake, I got railroaded...”

You silly, Mu-Ur world. You silly. You silly, silly place.

“Now that Kurdt's prophecy has been confirmed, the project can move forward. Your part is acknowledged and commended.” (Crys)
“...Geez, thanks a lot for giving me this rare opportunity and confessing at this time! Let’s send a canary in the coal mine to see if it glitches and finds a way to extend lifespans on the side!”

Would the situation be better, if had continued to rage against the forced development? Or would it be worse?

Impossible to know. Can’t replay reality.

The staff is already attached to my hand.

“I picked the wrong year to start juggling as a hobby...”
“You should talk with the keeper of the oneiric lighthouse, Speedrun. He will soon perish due to old age.” (Crys)
“Huh...? Did Kurdt foresee his own death?”
“No, this is an estimation based on observing his deteriorating health. His ability should be used as long as it’s available.” (Crys)

Ugh. I feel like I’m losing my grip – figuratively speaking. Mental stress is not tanked by the glitch.

I need to have a long talk with Kurdt about his hazy future visions. I admit it: I might have previously reasoned along the lines of “future is my territory, Kurdt, make like a tree and get outta here”. I though I knew better and would not get caught in railroaded developments and forcefully fulfilled predictions because I can look at this world from a higher angle and see the Chekhov’s Guns being loaded, loose ends trying to tie up for dénouement...

The future is me, old man. I know where this world is heading long-term.

But if Crys is correct about Kurdt’s curtains closing, we’ll lose a pair far-seeing googly eyes cherrypicking weak signals. I should at least collect his visions. Let’s print a forbidden book and call it Dreamboats of Kurdt-stradamus.

I’ve already forgotten most of Kurdt’s early incoherent ramblings. Seriously, how much of his dreams can be taken seriously?

“Crys, you still remember the talk we had about signals and noise and stuff? Let me repeat to make sure: if you can follow all bouncing balls, you can predict where they go, but if you look at those values over a long time, the answers come up exactly the same as if you had predicted vectors randomly. On infinite timescale, every prediction can become true and every fever dream can become a fulfilled prophecy for some dude at some point. Keep your head skeptical, no matter how convincing and accurate some random prediction looks. Doesn’t matter if that flying fish is a hallucination or a ghost, doesn’t matter if it’s telling you real things or lies; following it is not recommended.”
“Of course.” (Crys)
“If you understand, don’t send me on dream-based missions ever again.”
“I cannot make predictions about my actions on an infinite timescale.” (Crys)
“Efefes...”

Crys is definitely hiding stuff from me still. No doubt and nothing new. But that’s a problem for future me.

“Has Kurdt seen any dreams about your future or Kim's future? Something he hasn’t told me, something you haven’t told me?”
“No. His prophecies involve you, or Rain, or the twins. What do you think is the reason for that?” (Crys)
“Strongest characters and me? Alive in the original timeline and me? I’d default to coincidence. It’s not like you are insignificant side characters or anything. Maybe you’re not in the dream-lighthouse’s spotlight as much as certain flashy showboats?”
“Irrelevant either way. The plan moves forward.” (Crys)
“Sure, sure, let's move this discussion here to the side and archive it. So, tomorrow in the garden then?”
“Yes.” (Crys)

I was about to leave, but Crys still had something to say.

“Achlop’s adjutant informed me earlier that they are going to butcher goats in the morning.” (Crys)
“Oh? You want barbecue for breakfast?”
“Pancakes are fine.” (Crys)
“Yeah, pancakes are GOAT.”
“No, goat is for lunch.” (Crys)
“Okay, joke-cancel that... I have to come up with some excuse why I cook with one hand only. Kim, you want pancakes?”
“Same as brother.” (Kimono)
“Alright, it's pancakes again then. I’ll inform Achlop that grilled goat is for lunch, vegetarian options as normal.”

Family meeting over.

---

I slouched into my own room, locked the door and dropped myself face first on the bed.

Crazy overtime grind at work this week. My cortisol levels were probably through the roof. Despite being tired, I didn’t feel like I could sleep.

After few minutes of rolling on the bed, there was an expected knock on the door.

“Master, may I enter?” (Sera)
“Yes, come in.”
“The door is locked.”
“Ah...”

I got up and unlocked the door.

Sera entered the room, hesitated a moment and sat on her knees on the floor in front of me.

“You don’t need to force yourself to come closer, I know I smell bad.”
“Are you in good health, master?” (Sera)
“You know how things are in this crappy world. Some good news, but more bad news. T-Sub is dead. Thiefmaster killed him.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” (Sera)

She expected me to tell her more, but explaining everything again felt like a massive chore.

“The good news is that I’m still alive and another boss enemy is dead.”
“Understood. Master, when would it be appropriate to light a funeral pyre for lord Test Subject?” (Sera)
“Funeral pyre? We don’t do those, that’s just Pikatrate tradition.”
“But when lord Dancer died…” (Sera)

Oh, she thinks funeral pyres are also our way of remembering the dead based on how I talked about Dancer’s final explosion?

Nah, we just leave our dead in the forest to be eaten by wolves and spiders. Is that the true way of the Revolution Movement, the tradition of the High Hats of the Hallways?

“Princess Achlop can arrange a branding of guards for his honor.” (Sera)
“No, please don’t do arrange any of that primitive tribal crap. Absolutely not. That’s gross.”
“Master, you call clothes skins. I find that gross somehow. Ah, apologies for speaking my mind...” (Sera)
“No, that’s a fair point. You should say what you want. Speak freely.”

Sera talks more casually with me nowadays instead of being the passive yes-woman she was back when this relationship started. It’s good character development, even if she does it because she has learned that I prefer straight, honest opinions over flattering platitudes.

“Anyway, I’ve seen enough weird rituals and ceremonies for a while. Tell this to Achlop. I don’t want a part in any religious mourning rituals.”
“Yes, master.” (Sera)

Crys, Rain and others don’t care about funerals or memorial services either.

When Kimono died in the original timeline, Crys just told everyone to forget her and never speak her name anymore. On the other hand, lesser side-character deaths were immediately used as filler for propaganda pamphlets, so Kimono’s death was treated differently in that sense.

I do want to remember Dancer and T-Sub in some way. Maybe we should put up some memorial plates or some framed picture at least. Make up some heroic story in the propaganda pamphlets and turn them into mythic characters.

“Dancer’s death was expected, but T-Sub was...”

I suddenly felt like I had returned into my long nightly streams where I kept chatting about random things with regulars without realizing I hadn’t eaten real food for hours.

“...I really wanted to see his surprised face at Sun Palace where all the Strangers artifacts are collected. I imagined this scene where T-Sub sees the Strangers Cube and falls to his knees in reverence, like ‘aah, it’s a cubely cube, it’s so cubical’, and then I have to lure him away from the courtyard dangling some rare artifact in front of his face, like 'you can have one artifact if you’re a good boy'…”

Funny headcanon scenes for a fallen comrade. Another fictional obituary for the pamphlets, for our followers to read and propagate.

Sera listened my incoherent commentary attentively.

“Headcanon fodder. That’s what sidekick NPC’s are for, right? They exist only for distraction and RNG manips. Stepping stones to go faster. Nothing more, nothing more...”
“Master, will you stop working and have fun again somehow?” (Sera)

Where did that question come from? Fun? What is she talking about?

Is this about unprotected sex again?

No, I’m probably overthinking it. She’s just worried about me. I’ve been under lot of stress. She’s worried about my mental health.

“Sera, fun needs to wait. We’re in the middle of a campaign to make the world better.”
“I’m sorry for asking, master.” (Sera)

I’ve been in action for too long. This kind of thing sometimes happened to realistic combat simulation streamers: too much virtual combat stress and near misses, and the streamer fell to self-hypnosis in the middle of the game and continued to play in fugue state, or became hysterical, or got continuous muscle spasms and became unable to move their arms...

I keep holding the flagstaff like an old sorcerer, but Sera hasn’t asked anything about it. I guess she’s fine with this new addition to our domestic life.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, master...” (Sera)
“No, it’s alright. Don’t worry, it's okay.”

She bowed again. Dammit, you don’t need to be so subservient, Sera. When you do that, I feel like I'm some slavemaster or idiotic conservative who thinks women just need to obey their husbands and stay in the kitchen.

Relax and let the stress disappear, Qwerty. Think about what’s important. You got a glitch, what’s the next level?

“...The problem is that there are very few people who have the knowledge and skills to make the world better for real. And they don’t know what to do, where to start, how to do it. It takes time and effort to simply understand and learn what the problems are and what should be done to fix things, and how to get everyone on board to actually work on practical solutions... I’m an anomaly. I'm an outlier with knowledge beyond anyone else in this world. That's why it would be a terrible waste to just laze around when there’s so much stuff to do...”
“Yes, master.” (Sera)
“I need to stay hyperfocused to get things done here... I can't waste this second life on trivial entertainment and virtual distractions... Although that would be completely fine as well, don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret anything, my first life kickstarted this second life with a real purpose…”
“Yes, master.” (Sera)
“It's okay to say you don't understand, that's okay... Even if I complain how crappy this world is, or no matter how stressed out I am... I’m still having fun, you know. I’m having the time of my life. You don’t need to worry about that, alright?”
“Yes, master...” (Sera)

What’s with that look? Is she now reproaching herself for making me feel worried about her or something?

“It's fun, Sera. I’m content with this weird relationship with you. It's fun.”
“Thank you, master.” (Sera)

Yep, that was the correct line. She smiled.

Alright, enough mental meta. Time for some tough inventory management. I need to unglitch part of my drip to take a bath.

“Sera, listen carefully. I need to shed my clothes to wash this smell and grime off, but the staff and bag have to stay in skin contact at all times. Let’s also try to keep most of my clothes in partial skin contact too, or some of them at least... Gah, washing is gonna be such a major hassle from now on...! Bring the scissors from the top drawer. You need to help me to cut off the sleeves. And you’ll probably need a sturdy knife or diag snips to cut off my undershirt.”
“Y-yes!” (Sera)

Sera suddenly looked intensely motivated.