Reincarnated into a Time-Loop Dungeon as a LVL100 Catgirl Chef!

Cycle 7 (Emmy)



Emmy yawned, walking out of her kitchen with a cup of coffee.

Suddenly she was in an office. She blinked, then tightly clutched her cup as she turned around. 

A woman with dark red hair in a tight bun sat behind a desk. “Hello, Emily, please take a seat,” she said formally, motioning to the chair across from her. Her accent was odd, almost a New York accent, but with traces of something else. It felt old, without her voice sounding it.

“Yes, ma’am,” Emmy said, moving as quickly as she could without spilling her coffee.

“Do you know who I am?” the woman asked, waving a hand. Emmy’s coffee vanished.

“The… Director.”

“Correct. I am in charge. I have been in charge for just over nine hundred years. I make laws. I expect them to be followed. They, currently, aren’t being followed.”

Emmy fidgeted in her chair. “I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to be sorry,” the Director said. “You don’t know the laws. More importantly, you don’t know why they exist. Before I move forward, I need you to understand why the laws Calvin broke are in place.”

“I… I know why you wouldn’t want to tell people… what he’s told me. You can erase memories, just get rid of the knowledge I have, it’s fine.”

“I can do much more than that, and so can he,” the Director said, sitting back. “That’s the problem. Memories are nothing, it’s feelings and emotions that are dangerous. I made a law saying Admins should not interact with non-players more than strictly necessary. There’s a law saying they shouldn’t befriend the non-players. They should, as much as possible, forget non-players exist. Make sure they have what they need to live, make sure none are in pain, and forget about them. Do you know why?”

Emmy hesitated, eyes darting around the room. “No.”

“I will briefly change the subject. You are what is colloquially known in English as a ‘soul’. You are a collection of feelings and memories, of emotions and desires. The body you currently inhabit is an altered recreation of what you used to be. It can be changed without changing you." She reached under her desk and brought out a black and white Russian doll. "Souls tend to react to things in absolutes. Like this. Black and white. Yes, no, good, bad, love, hate. If given the option between cake or broccoli, automatically we'd pick cake. Cake good, broccoli bad. But." She opened the doll, showing the next one down had a white design outlined in grey on a black background. "We know things aren't always that way. If the cake were moldy and the broccoli were covered in cheese, we'd choose the broccoli. Still, cake normally is better than broccoli." She opened the second doll, revealing a third with equal amounts of grey, black and white. "But perhaps we're malnutritioned. Perhaps we're allergic to something in the cake. We would still prefer cake, but there are questions we need to ask before eating either." She opened the doll and showed the smallest one was just swirls of grey. "And then when we think it over, we recognize there are always questions. There are always things to ask before making any decision. Our first reaction might be wrong, but to decide that we need to stop and think. Do you understand?"

Emmy nodded slowly. "I don't know why you're telling me this, but I understand the concept."

The Director smiled patiently, setting the four dolls in a row between them. "Black and white can be reversed," she said. She touched the biggest doll. "Admins can change the base feelings of players. Normally, a soul wouldn't want to go through the stress and pain of killing dozens of living beings over and over again for years on end. So Admins simply changed 'pain bad' to 'pain good'. Obviously any amount of reflection would make players realize pain was bad, but their initial, base reaction to seeing someone run at them with a sword is 'good'." She looked at Emmy, touching the second then third doll. "With non-players, Admins have authority to get here. They can change any emotion, and you have almost no power to reason through it." She touched the biggest doll. "You like broccoli." The second doll. "There are very few circumstances in which you would prefer cake." The third doll. "You have questions, but if the answers are good you'll take the broccoli." The fourth doll. "But wait, broccoli tastes terrible while cake tastes good, why do you keep choosing broccoli?"

Emmy felt her heart speed up as she realized what the Director was saying. What she was implying. "N-"

The Director touched the biggest doll again. "You find the Admin attractive." She moved her hand to the second doll. "There may be a red flag or two, but you really do like him." She picked up the third doll. "All relationships have problems, you should stay with him." She set it down. "And he can change your appearance to whatever he likes best. He controls the world you live in; he can give you literally anything you want. And if you rebel, he can turn you into a goldfish and feed you to sharks twice a day. Who's to say he can't? I trusted him enough to give him near-absolute power, why would I second-guess his punishment system? Why would I request he explain his actions? After Cycle 5 I barely paid attention to what his actions even were, I was too busy."

"He wouldn't change me," Emmy said, her voice faltering. "Calvin loves me. He wouldn't abuse his power to…"

"I have your file here," the Director said, waving a screen into existence. "He changed your race. He changed your hair color. He made you a house. I suspect he made the whole floor for you, even if others use it. Would you like to know how many times he's changed your soul?"

"He wouldn't," Emmy repeated, almost desperate.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but he has. Would you like to know how many times?"

 

*****

 

Calvin rolled out of bed at about eleven, wishing he could still magically make coffee appear. For some reason he hadn't made that an official spell. After showering and getting dressed, he wandered downstairs to make lunch.

Emmy wasn't at her desk. She wasn't in the kitchen. She wasn't anywhere in the house.

Shrugging, he opened a message box.

From: Calvin [Player 6]
To: Emmy [Item 971]
Subject: (empty)
Gonna reheat the pizza for lunch unless you have a better idea.

He hit send, and a new box appeared.

ERROR: Item not found.

Calvin paused. Slowly, he checked the name and number. He double-checked it against a message he'd sent her the day before.

It was correct.

He tried to send the message again.

ERROR: Item not found.

 

The only way an item wouldn't be found… was if it wasn't in the dungeon.

Calvin panicked. He bolted out of the house, ran through the maze, jumped up the stairs, fell off the walkway, landed on the diner's roof, rolled off, hit the ground, and scrambled to the center. 

From: Calvin [Player 6]
To: The Director
Subject: (empty)

WHERE IS SHE

GIVE HER BACK

He paced around the respawn point, hands in his pockets so they didn't shake.

He got a message.

From: The Director
To: Calvin [Player 6]
Subject: Re:
I'm just having a chat with your pretty little toy. Almost done, not to worry.

Calvin glared at the box, heart beating so fast it hurt.

What was she doing to Emmy? What was she saying? What was she changing?

He hated not knowing. More than that, he hated being powerless. He couldn't undo anything the Director did. He wouldn't even be able to see what she'd done.

He paced back and forth some more, wanting to scream and cry and fight.

Finally a golden shimmer appeared over the respawn point, and Emmy popped onto the floor.

Calvin nearly tackled her in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as his heart rate slowed.

She stood there stiffly for a few seconds, then pushed him back enough to look him in the eye. "Calvin. Why didn't you tell me you've changed me?"

He blinked, confusion muddying the cloud of relief in his mind. "I… presumed you'd notice you weren't a kobold?"

"No," she snapped, her anger surprising him. "Not what I look like! My emotions! How I feel, who I am!" She pushed him away, glaring.

"Oh. That," he said stupidly. "I… couldn't."

"That isn't a valid argument," she bit out. "You've told me plenty of things you shouldn't have."

His stupidity continued. "You didn't ask."

Emmy screamed through clenched teeth. "How could I ask?" she demanded. "I didn't suspect part of your job included psychopathic brainwashing! And then you went ahead and changed my soul six times? What did you do to me?!"

"If I had the ability I'd show you," he said, finally catching up. "Emmy, I swear I didn't change much. I’d never change how you feel about anyone, especially me."

"Then what did you change?" she growled, hatred radiating off her.

Calvin tried to speak as calmly as possible. "From what you were originally, I gave you default kobold mob changes. That's a desire to fight players, defend your floor, defend the dragon, respect the dragon as a leader, don't talk about your village in front of the players… I think that's it. Then when you won the blacksmith competition I switched you from kobold mob to catgirl settings. Tend your shop, keep it clean, stay there and wait for players, be polite… Something about not letting them know you have a life, I don't know. Then the cycle ended and I switched you back to kobold mob. Back to catgirl and back to kobold on Cycle… whatever it was. Then when I made you floor overseer I took away the kobold things and made you want to walk around the park once a day thinking of improvements. That's it. That's all. I'll swear on anything you want me to swear on: I never changed anything about you to please myself."

She looked away, tears in her eyes. "I want to believe that. But I don't know why I want to believe it."

"Emmy, please," he said softly. "I love you, I would never betray you like that."

"Calvin," she said, still not looking at him. "I'm going home. I'd appreciate it if you stayed here."

He stood there, stunned. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Emmy walked into the forest, heading for the walkway.

When she was out of sight, Calvin spun around and glared up at the ceiling.

"Are you happy now?" he screamed.


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