Signs of Danger
“That's exactly it.”
Kuwaaaah!
There went the Writer, wailing again.
All she could manage was a wind-swept sand effect, but her sheer panic came through loud and clear.
“You kind of are one, though. A Writer whose family name is Disease and given name is Delusion.”
The Writer exploded in frustration.
Her sole avatar in this world wouldn't answer her, wouldn't even take her questions seriously — enough to drive anyone around the bend.
Serves her right, sure, but honestly, I was getting a raw deal in my own way too.
I told her nothing but the truth, after all.
Yupi suddenly ran a fever (in heat) and collapsed, and I found her and fed her medicine (semen) to cure her, and that became the reason we started dating.
I said all of it, didn't I?
Okay, sure, I dressed it up quite a bit — but not a word of it was a lie!
“Why are you cursing me out? Is my dating Yupi really that upsetting to you?”
The Writer went quiet, stalling.
Her reaction hit me like a bolt from the blue.
Wait, it actually bothers her?
Apparently my getting together with Yupi had shaken her far more than I'd imagined.
Well, come to think of it — Yupi was the half-sister of Ter Citrine, the main heroine of Academy Yuri Princess. A woman who'd been playing both sides between the main and sub heroines was now in my hands, and that was what made her furious.
Which meant — no way.
“Do you... have a thing for me?”
“So cold. Can't believe I called that one wrong.”
I'd hoped, and of course I'd been wrong.
The girl didn't spare me a single shred of interest.
“And here I thought you saw me as a member of the opposite sex.”
“Whoa, whoa, easy. Sorry, alright?”
I offered the apology first, in the spirit of making peace.
She must have decided that arguing any further was pointless, because she didn't press me beyond that.
“I've got circumstances I can't explain. Just try to understand, okay? I have a private life too, you know.”
With everything I had, I pleaded my case, appealing to her sympathies and begging for forgiveness.
I groveled and scraped, asking her to see things from my side — and at last, she relented.
Only then did she let her sulking go and post a considerably more docile message to the system window.
Whew. What a difficult woman.
“I promised you that when I first possessed this body, remember? I haven't forgotten, so sit back and watch.”
Anyway, I'd gotten past it smoothly.
There was no way I could ever tell the Writer that Yupi and my relationship had actually begun with what was, technically, an assault.
And honestly, no matter how many times I looked back on it, I couldn't quite figure out myself how things had ended up with us dating.
Trashy. Absolutely trashy writing.
But if it's trashiness like this, I'll welcome it any day of the week.
And once again, I found myself silently thanking that mysterious benefactor who'd handed me this opportunity in the first place.
Without him, I would have fumbled away the chance of a lifetime.
“Anyway, that wraps up class, and I've got plenty of time before the next one.”
“Tons of things — but if there's one top-priority task, it's that. Nothing else.”
“That's the one.”
An essential of modern life — the thing that some people have never used, but that no one has ever used only once.
“Let's go get a phone plan.”
At long last, freedom from my long, long phoneless exile.
Southwest of the Academy campus lay the only district on Dilmun Island that could be called a commercial center — its downtown.
According to the web novel, though he'd never set foot outside the capital of the Zerta Kingdom, its prosperity was said to be second to none.
As if to prove that claim, skyscrapers pierced the heavens, and shops selling their wares lined the streets between them.
“Cheap, cheap, cheap! Fresh fish caught just this morning!”
“Potions you can carry into the dungeon! Only ten thousand won!”
It was a market operating under Academy license, and it had everything from groceries to pricey dungeon-grade equipment.
“Hey there, student! Potions are essential when you go into a dungeon. Come take a look, why don't you?”
“I'll stop by later. I'm in a bit of a hurry right now.”
I politely declined the merchants' sales pitches and slipped past them. Soon a building appeared, so flashy it drowned out every other shop in sight, and I came to a stop in front of it.
A small establishment decked out in dazzling electric neon signs. Beneath that glittering signboard, I opened the door and stepped inside.
Beep beep — “Welcome to CV Telecom, where service comes with a smile. What can we do for you today?”
The moment I entered, a boxy robot balanced not on two legs but on wheels rolled up to greet me. When it asked what had brought me here, I answered.
“I'm here to buy a phone. Can I set up service here?”
“Identity verification is required. Would you please present your ID?”
I pulled out the card I'd been carefully keeping in my pocket and handed it to the robot.
Beep beep — “Identity confirmed. Welcome, Solis. Is this your first time at a phone store? If you'd like, I can walk you through the whole process, from signing up for service, so you won't run into any trouble.”
“That's alright. I'll browse and pick one out myself.”
I made my way toward the display racks where phones sat in neat rows. Among the lineup of devices, I spotted the model that lingered in my memory and pointed at it without a moment's hesitation.
“I'll take this one.”
“Are you certain you'd like the Galaxy S20? Purchase is possible, but as it's an older model, repairs are difficult and the latest benefits would only apply on a limited basis.”
The robot suggested I consider other models, but my resolve was ironclad.
“This one, please.”
Beep beep — “Understood.”
The robot led me to a customer table and set down a contract and a phone box.
Having signed up for a phone on Earth before, the process went off without a hitch — in under ten minutes, the new phone was in my hands.
Beep — “Thank you, come again.”
Leaving the robot's mechanically flavored farewell behind me, I checked out my new purchase's features.
Just like the setting notes said — phones here are barely any different from the world I used to live in.
The controls were identical, and the pre-installed apps, though their names differed slightly, had the exact same functions as the ones I knew from Earth. Adaptation wasn't even a question — any modern person's fingers would know where to go before their brain caught up.
After saving a password and locking things down, my phone setup was complete, and a smile bloomed across my face.
“I finally feel like I've gotten my life back. I literally could not imagine a daily life without a smartphone.”
The thing I never understood, every single time I read a possession or reincarnation story, was how the protagonist could slash through armies in another world yet feel zero attachment to modern conveniences.
I'm just too busy enjoying my new life to bother?
Fine, I guess that's possible.
But then you lie down in bed at night — and you just sleep? Just like that?
I was losing sleep every damn night because I couldn't stop scrolling Shorts, you know?!
“Writer, your world has webtoons and video platforms and stuff, right?”
“Even better. I was sick of watching the same old thing every day, so more variety is welcome.”
I opened the app store and set about filling the phone's empty rectangular screen with small, square little apps.
The logos looked different enough from the ones I knew that I nearly got lost for a moment, but thanks to the Writer — who could cross-reference my hometown's knowledge with this world's — I managed to install a set of apps similar to what I'd had on my old phone.
So this is how the internet is built over here.
There were differences in the logos and some parts of the system, but otherwise it was practically indistinguishable from the world I'd lived in.
At this rate, I'd adjust in no time.
And with that, my most urgent matter was handled.
Next on the list: figuring out where to burn the rest of my free time.
“What's up, Writer?”
Her chat window suddenly called out to me, and I asked what the occasion was.
“'Over there' means nothing to me when I can't see where you're pointing. Give me a bearing through the chat.”
Wondering what on earth she meant, I turned the way she said and looked toward the spot she'd indicated.
And there—
“Oh, that's Marin, isn't it.”
The elusive little girl, crossing my path yet again.
At first I assumed the Writer was simply startled by the rare reappearance of a main heroine.
“What?”
Kyaaaak!
A shriek that felt like it would tear my eardrums apart.
Only then did I grasp what she'd been so desperately trying to tell me.
Marin — and standing before her, a monster in the shape of a boar.
Muscles writhed grotesquely over hide as hard as iron plate, radiating an overwhelming pressure. Its charcoal-rough bristles had a scorched, sooty pallor, and with every inhale it belched out a thick, acrid heat.
Its massive bulk could have swept an elephant aside as an afterthought, and its bloodshot eyes were locked onto Marin.
“Why is a thing that belongs in a dungeon out here?”
A monster that dwelled in dungeons — a Hoquirrel.
The moment I laid eyes on the thing, I shot forward.