The lunch box sat before him, a culinary challenge. Inside, a beige, viscous porridge shared space with a vibrant array of fruits and vegetables. These were artfully drizzled with a sauce forming a bright red heart. Visually, it was... appealing. Alain nodded, focusing on the appearance. It was only the faint, scorched aroma that hinted at the reality.
He poked cautiously at the vegetables with his chopsticks. They sank in, revealing charred black interiors. How...? How did you burn the inside without scorching the outside? How is this even possible? He desperately wanted to rant, to question this culinary sorcery. Was this so hidden talent of ga characters? Had Misha sohow glitched reality itself?
He needed a distraction, a way to steer Misha's focus towards their planned trip to the mall. Summoning his most charming smile, he t her questioning gaze, ready to change the subject—
Then he saw her hand.
Small blisters dotted her fair skin. Band-aids, stained with a hint of blood, covered her index finger and thumb.
"Um, is sothing wrong?"
Misha, noticing his gaze, instinctively tucked her hand behind her back. "I, uh, tried using the kitchen utensils earlier. It was... a little challenging, but I did it! This is the best batch yet!"
"..."
Had she destroyed her taste buds in the process? Alain didn't voice the thought. Instead, without a word, he picked up the bowl of shapeless porridge and downed it in one go.
"Glug, glug, glug..." He pretended to savor it, a single, unnoticed tear tracing a path down his cheek.
"Ah... be careful, don't choke."
But Alain was already setting the box down, his hand reaching for the fruits and vegetables.
"Delicious."
"Crunch."
The first bite was pure bitterness. There was no give, no juiciness. Just a brittle, potato-chip-like snap. Misha's love-infused sauce, however, did offer a sweet counterpoint, masking so of the charcoal's acridity.
A mont later, Alain patted his stomach with a slight burp. "Very good," he declared.
The taste? Well, if you ignored the crunchy, burnt texture and pretended it was so exotic, crispy snack, it was… tolerable.
Misha, ever the attentive housewife, offered him a wet wipe.
"You ate it all?"
[13% → 15%]
"Yes. It's a sha I didn't get to eat you this ti."
"Darling, what are you saying? I should be the one eating you!" Misha playfully poked his forehead.
"Uh, I surrender..."
"Hehe~ Okay, wipe your mouth."
But the offered wipe remained suspended in the air. Misha, puzzled, saw that Alain wasn't reaching for it. He simply pointed at his mouth.
You do it.
"Honestly..." A soft smile played on her lips. She gently, ticulously, wiped the corners of her husband's mouth.
"Tsk... you can't even wipe your own mouth."
"Show off, show off."
Several passersby, their faces contorted as if they'd just bitten into sour lemons, hurried past the "lovey-dovey" couple.
Alain was oblivious. Basking in his wife's ministrations, his mind drifted back to the system's progress bar.
He pulled out his phone, opening the bug fix function of Security Guard. Last night, it had been at 10%. Today, with Misha's arrival, it had jumped to 13%, and now, 15%.
Was there a correlation?
His first thought was an affection system. This did feel like sothing out of a dating sim. But he quickly discarded the idea. If it were affection-based, the increase would have been far greater. Misha, for so inexplicable reason, seed to harbor a pre-existing affection for him. The progress bar should have been much higher from the start.
That left only one possibility: helping Misha integrate into the real world.
He reviewed the three events that had triggered the progress bar's increase.
First, giving her a na. A real-world identity.
The other two were essentially providing reassurance when she felt insecure.
"A sense of security in integrating into reality?"
He glanced at her, her gaze calm and trusting. He rembered her anxiety, her feeling of displacent, when she'd been alone on the street.
Bug fix... integrating elents that didn't belong... making the bug not a bug.
It was just a theory, of course. He might be missing other factors. But the imdiate goal remained: to expose her to the real world.
"Misha."
"Yes, darling?" Misha put down the napkin, her eyes curious.
"Want to go to the mall with ?"
"A date?"
"The mall."
"A date?"
"...A date."
"Yes! I'd love to."
Alain decided to skip his afternoon classes. With the Security Guard bonus, the scholarship was less crucial. The priority was buying gifts for that wicked woman and daily necessities for Misha. And, of course, testing his hypothesis.
After dropping off the lunch box at ho, they headed to a nearby mall. During their walk, he carefully observed Misha. She was calm in less crowded areas. But as soon as they entered a busy street, she instinctively clutched the corner of his shirt.
"Misha, I need a plan," Alain said, feigning a thoughtful frown. "It's a special day, so just the mall seems a bit... lacking. How about I take you sowhere fun?"
Misha paused, her eyes widening slightly before lighting up. "Okay!"
"Is there anything you've always wanted to see, sothing real, not just in the ga?"
She pondered for a mont. "Flowers, I think. Lots of beautiful flowers, not the ones in vases at ho."
"Then Crystal Flower Park it is. They have an open-air exhibition today."
"Yes!" A radiant smile blood on her face.
____
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