A Taste That's Familiar Yet Unfamiliar
A remote rural dimension where the dimensional airport hasn't been built yet.
"Welcome, master! First time here, nya~?"
"...Huh?"
I'd come expecting a cafe, only to find a maid. Cat ears and tail... a beastkin? No, not quite. It feels more like... more like...
Costume play.
"Oh."
"Master? Master? Where are you going, nya~? ...What a weirdo."
I bolt out of the cafe in shock. That was close—a real close call.
Minstrel shows, huh. Guess it really is some backwater dimension.
Being a rural world, beastkin discrimination must be rampant here. Who'd have thought places still did minstrel shows.
I duck into the park right across the street, panting hard. Spotting a vending machine nearby, I grab a drink and slump onto a bench to catch my breath—only to see it's packed with people in beastkin costumes. Of course.
So this is a place where beastkin-bashing is common... Wait, no.
It's not hatred—it's admiration...? Or rather, they don't even have the concept of beastkin here?
Sipping my drink on the bench, I pull up info on this dimension.
What? No beastkin? No, no other races at all? Not even the usual androids?
There are early-model androids and primitive AIs, but fully sapient artificial beings are rare...?
"Ugh."
A quick search for beastkin stuff online floods the screen with stuff I can't unsee. Rural dimension means they go for the primal stuff, huh? Way too blatant!
"...Still, it's a pretty intriguing place."
Single-species dominance in a dimension is common. Worlds where multiple races mix are the rarity. By the time a dimensional airport gets built, one race usually monopolizes control anyway.
In that sense, this place is fascinating.
"No airport, yet they describe it in such detail online."
The net's full of beastkin artwork. Faces that look familiar somehow. Like the ones you pass occasionally near System Industry HQ.
Definitely no beastkin in this dimension, though...
"Hm? Beastkin Festival? What's that?"
Wearing furred animal pelts upside down...? What?
"Seems like it's somewhere between hate and fascination..."
Like primitive shamanism or something. Kinda makes sense if I think of it that way. No, honestly, it's still baffling. What kind of messed-up dimension is this?
"...But I never imagined this."
Surprisingly, though, the food scene here is abundant. Food trucks, carts, restaurants, convenience stores hawking eats... Only the restaurant strip near System Industry has more grub.
...No, wait. This might be that type too.
A dimension that's developed independently but lacks the quals for an airport. Rare, but they pop up now and then. Maybe this is one.
"Ah."
All that delicious-looking stuff has me starving.
...Might as well grab something.
"Yes? Oh, sorry. We don't take unexchanged currency much..."
"What kind of money is that? Never seen it. You from somewhere exotic?"
Ah, damn. Forgot it's a rural dimension.
System points work anywhere, so I overlooked it—but backwaters like this usually don't take them. Been too long since I visited one; forgot about exchanging for local cash. Embarrassing.
Lucky there's an ATM that converts points. Fees sting, but I swap for local currency...
"Sorry, we don't take dollars. Won only. Won only."
...Boom.
Didn't expect currencies to vary by region within the dimension. Why make a tiny backwater this complicated?
...Or maybe because it's a backwater. These places often have a bunch of small outfits instead of big corps. Multiple companies mean multiple point systems, multiple coupons to collect. Makes sense in a way. Feels authentically rural.
Anyway, I exchange my dollars for won. Same currency, but the volume's way different. Doesn't matter—as long as locals mesh. That's a plus.
...Wonder what this buys in local money. Units differ from points, so it's fuzzy.
Eh, buying something will clarify.
"Ice cream's out. 3,900 won."
"3,900 won... Here's four 1,000-won bills."
"Yes! Change of 100 won. Thanks! Enjoy!"
Markets are best for gauging prices, as expected. Lots of street stalls—perfect spot nearby.
3,900 won... about 30pt with fees. Double exchange muddles it, plus multiple fees...
...30pt. Yeah. Steeper than expected.
But sweet, cool, delicious. No different from stuff near System Industry.
Tasty. But nothing special...
Hm?
"...Alien flavor?"
Cool name. Alien flavor—what's that like? Which alien did they base it on?
Can't resist; buy another.
...Ah. Got it. Gray flavor. Gray alien flavor.
Like the almond chocolate from that big-headed, big-eyed gray-skinned classmate back in school.
...Weird taste. Fits the name perfectly.
"Could they have encountered other races here...?"
It's supposed to be the middle of nowhere, no airport material—but surprisingly decent.
Developed this far without one? That's the real mystery.
"Ice cream's average, so skip. What about other food?"
Exchanged about 5,000pt just in case. Enough for some promising ingredients, maybe.
Well, it's my money now, but it'll all be expensed later. Company foots the bill eventually. No-strings pleasure—best kind.
Alright. Time to sample a bunch.
Lots feels familiar; might adapt quick.
...
"This is insane. Total mess. Worst."
What the hell is this smell? Overwhelming stench, ungodly funk.
What is it? Why does it reek like a hellhole public toilet?
"Cheonggukjang's up."
"Ah, uh... thanks."
...Cheonggukjang? This?
The cheonggukjang I know barely smells. Gets a bit funky eating it, but not repulsive.
But this... this...
"Sticky and stinky. Hope it's okay..."
Scoop a spoonful; broth clings thick. Soybean extract...? More like gooey strands stretching like threads.
Not bubbling—more like simmering lava, viscous...
I asked for the house specialty, but...
Way different from what I know. Don't wanna eat. Smell's horrific. Bust?
Seems like it for now.
"...But I ordered it. No choice."
When I order, I finish every last bite, every scrap—unless it's physiologically repulsive.
Working with ingredients instills respect for them.
...Though right now, it is repulsive. Still, gotta try.
Half-spoon, tentative...
"...Hm?"
Didn't expect this. Taste is standard cheonggukjang—nutty, even sweeter.
Super sticky, yet less heaviness, just profound weight.
Scooping big for mixing with rice sounds perfect.
Tastier than expected.
"...If only the smell were fixed."
But the stench is the issue. Post-taste, it's tolerable—but still monstrous.
Clings to clothes for a week; I'd be untouchable. No one comes near.
Taste saves it enough to scrape the pot clean...
"Hard to rate. Zombie bait in a pinch during an outbreak...?"
...Dunno. Tasty. But reeks. 70% hate it. Yet that 30% might draw me back.
Ambiguous. Charming in a weird way, but the smell...
Without it, less charm? Scentless cheonggukjang feels blander in memory. Hard to compare precisely, but funkier seems tastier...
"...No clue. Confusing. Is this how they eat it here?"
...But other spots have milder cheonggukjang aroma.
Guess first meal led me to ultra-local local...
"Instinct for spots backfires sometimes..."
Eh, zombie-apocalypse utility? Add to potential trade list.
Airport comes, might go viral as local legend. Virality's key for these!