Chapter 10
“Please, can’t I just take the cola?” [Sweetheart, it’s really not often I offer this kind of service... and you’re just going to ignore me like that? Bobby’s pride is going to be hurt. You’re ignoring me because I’m a vending machine, not a human, aren’t you? I should report this.] “No, it’s not about discriminating against machines. I’m on my way to work right now. I really don’t have time. There are fewer than 10 minutes left.” [Hmm, really? Can I trust you?] “Of course. I’m someone who believes that Black, White, East Asian, male, female, Ladam, and Ever are all equal.” [Then next time you stop by here, you’ll definitely get the service, right? You promise?] “...” [Oh? Your answer’s a bit slow. You’re not just saying things you don’t mean to get out of this moment, are you?] “...Of course not. I promise.] [Something feels fishy, but fine. You seem genuinely busy, so I’ll trust you just this once. Here you go.]
Clunk
.
A green cola can was launched from the vending machine’s long, cylindrical dispenser.
The man barely managed to snatch it, then moved away from the vending machine with a sigh of relief... before suddenly stopping.
He carefully picked up the cola can with his thumb and forefinger and spoke.
“Wait.” [Why, Sweetheart? Want the service now?] “No, it’s not that. I just have one question.” [What? I can answer anything, as long as it’s not an awkward privacy💗 matter.] “So, has anyone actually used that “service”... recently?”
The man looked back and forth between the black, wriggling drink dispenser and the cola can in his hand, a fearful gaze in his eyes.
The Ever Vending Machine, Bobby, let out a suggestive laugh.
[Well. That seems to fall under the realm of privacy too. But if you’re really curious, should I tell you a little?]
“No. No. Don’t answer. You don’t have to. I think it’s better not to know.”
The man said that, then walked away, diligently checking the cola can in his hand to see if anything was on it.
Bobby chuckled, watching his retreating figure.
In this back alley, frequented only by hardened thugs, it had been a while since she’d seen someone so naive.
Thanks to him, it had been fun for the first time in a long time. She hoped he’d come back.
I teased him too much, so that might be a bit difficult.
It was a shame. Should she have held back a little? It wasn’t often such a big fish got caught.
* * *
I will never again carelessly approach a vending machine. I will never again carelessly press a vending machine button.
It was a lesson etched deep into my bones, after my soul had been thoroughly shaken by that crazy vending machine couple, Bobby and Ken.
...Actually, maybe the Luddite Gang was right? Aren’t machines humanity’s enemies, deserving to be smashed to pieces?
As I tried to clear my head and calm myself, I realized it was already 5:55, even having such absurd thoughts for a moment. Only five minutes remained until the appointed time.
I casually tossed the empty cola can into a corner of the alley where trash was piled high, then entered the Bar building. Perhaps because those crazy vending machines had served as a kind of shock therapy, climbing the eerie commercial building with its dying lights didn’t feel as daunting as before.
No matter how terrible the humans I’d encounter at my new workplace might be, they’d surely be better than those vending machines outside.
Oh, and the cola.
There were one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.
The good news was that after the cola can was closely examined, there didn’t seem to be any slimy substance on it.
Either no one had used that “service” recently, or if anyone had, it had already dried up. It had to be one or the other, not a problem I particularly wanted to imagine, though.
Anyway, aside from the psychological unease, the can was clean, so I could drink it with peace of mind.
Now that I think about it, that woman... Sey, was it? Her warning to be careful when drinking, that I might regret it, wasn’t for nothing. She must have known that the vending machine’s drink dispenser was sometimes used in ways other than its original purpose.
In Dusk City, where indifference to others is the default, even that much advice was appreciated, but I still felt a bit resentful. If she had just told me a little more detail, I wouldn’t have pressed that button. And I wouldn’t have been tormented by Bobby.
Oh, and there was one more thing to resent.
The bad news. The Green Tea Cola she recommended tasted absolutely awful.
The astringent, bitter taste still lingered in my mouth. On top of that, there was the peculiar cloying texture of cheap artificial sweeteners, used to replace expensive sugar.
How on earth could anyone find this delicious? It wasn’t as bad as the “minefield” flavors I’d tried in my ignorant past, like Curry Flavored Cola or Lizard Flavored Cola, but it was equally terrible. I don’t think I’ll ever drink it again.
Could that woman have undergone some kind of Body Modification related to her tongue? What kind of taste buds did she have to find this delicious?
Grumbling, I pushed open the old door of the Bar Dragon’s Lair and stepped inside.
*Jingle-jangle—*
The incongruous jingle of the front door bell greeted me. I flinched, startled. Who puts a jingle bell on a shop door in the 22nd century?
“...”
I looked around, but the interior was empty. It was an hour before opening, so it was natural for it to look deserted. The woman from earlier wasn’t here either. Was she not working here?
Feeling somewhat awkward, I stood behind the Bar’s tables and chairs, looking around.
To be honest, it was quite flashy. From the outside, I’d thought it might be a rundown place, but the inside was different.
It looked like a quintessential Cyberpunk bar, to the point of giving me a strange sense of déjà vu.
On the clean, checkered floor, one wall was lined with arcade machines, a dartboard glowing with five colors, a virtual ping-pong table, and a jukebox. Perhaps because it hadn’t opened yet, no music was playing from the jukebox.
*Hummm.*
A magenta Darklight glow, bright yet not overly dazzling, illuminated the surroundings, giving them the feel of a stylish hideout or game center.
Various electronic displays were installed above the Bar tables, spewing out menus, news, advertisements, and more in multiple languages, while various liquors sparkled behind them under fluorescent lights.
There were a large beer keg with “Beer” written in glowing orange neon, a state-of-the-art holographic menu, and digital posters and photographs of anime and manga plastered everywhere.
It was a cool, sophisticated retro-themed bar, just enough not to be tacky. I was a bit surprised. It was a much more legitimate place than I had expected.
I don’t know much about bars, but I do know roughly what kind of entertainment establishments line the night streets of this neighborhood.
They were places that were bars in name only, but in reality, weren’t primarily about alcohol, but rather about women, drugs, or gambling. There were mirror balls on the ceiling, and long poles extending beneath dazzling laser shows where hostesses with silicone bodies swayed and danced. All the bartenders were women in revealing uniforms that showed their cleavage, pouring drinks flirtatiously, while customers watched them and inhaled various hallucinogenic drugs through their noses and mouths.
I’d assumed most bars would be like that, unless they were high-end hotel classic bars frequented by the upper class in the rich districts. Especially since I knew it was a franchise bar belonging to my company’s brand.
As I said, my company is by no means a good company. If anything, it’s closer to a Black Company. It’ll do anything for money and profit. Though, honestly, what corporation in Dusk City isn’t like that?
And naturally, stimulating and provocative Sex Bars and Drug Bars are what sell well to the Lower Class in the outskirts. So I expected this place to be similar. I thought it would be filled with the repulsive, musty smell of drugs and cigarettes, but it was surprisingly clean and outwardly respectable.
Of course, since it hadn’t opened yet, it was too early to jump to conclusions either way, but at least judging by its appearance, it was a genuinely wholesome bar, a rare sight.
Can a business like this survive in such a remote location?
Perhaps there’s some hidden business secret.
Perhaps that’s one of the “peculiarities” the Chairman asked me to report on.
I was standing there, idly and nervously looking around, lost in these thoughts.
*Thud.*
The door next to the Bar table, marked “Authorized Personnel Only,” swung open, and a man walked out carrying a large box in his arms. He was a Westerner with reddish-brown hair, wearing a black polo shirt that reached his neck and jeans. His languid eyes were half-closed, and his curly hair was disheveled.
It was a moment of both relief and tension, as I thought someone had finally appeared to resolve this awkward situation where I didn’t know what to do.
He yawned, his mouth wide open, then went behind the table, squatted down, and began organizing the items in the box.
Without sparing me a single glance.
“...”
Surely he didn’t see me? No, this place isn’t that big. Does it make sense that he wouldn’t notice me, standing right in front of the table?
To make matters worse, the man started humming. He hummed cheerfully, as if he were the only person in the world, placing unknown liquor bottles on the table and wiping glasses and tools with a cloth...
I couldn’t bring myself to break the suffocating silence and speak, so I just stood there, frozen and silent.
And after about 30 seconds of that, I felt something was wrong. The humming wouldn’t stop. Now, to top it off, he was cheerfully whistling.
Now I really had to say something, or do something... damn it.
It was a situation I absolutely hated, but there was nothing for it. My legs were starting to ache and go numb, and I couldn’t just stand here all day. I had to do something.
Right, I’ll try a little cough.
Just as I was about to timidly let out a “Ahem...”
*Creak—*
The sound of a door opening. A savior had arrived, albeit late.