I’d Like to Change My Reincarnation Subscription, Please - Chapter 216

Miss Masher chuckles with an amused smile as she watches Jonathan laying waste to his liquified chocolate with a side of caffeine. After a pause, she turns to look at Lucas again.

“Ah, right, about the baked stuff… I was eyein’ that strawberry sponge cake. Nat and Sarah would absolutely lose their minds if I showed up with the whole thing, if ya don’t mind?” Over the course of Miss Masher asking this, both she and Lucas turn to look at the pre-sliced, but otherwise whole, strawberry sponge cake in the display case that the confectionary crating machine has yet to reach.

A few of its upright slices of strawberries supported by piped pink icing on top of it had fallen over, but otherwise, it hasn’t visibly suffered from the recent battle.

‘Oh, shit. Yeah, havin’ someone show up with a wholeass cake when you’re already high would be fuckin’ rad, wouldn’t it?’

[…You seem suspiciously confident about that observation.]

‘Dude. I went to an out-of-state college. Do you seriously think I was sober the whole time?’

[…]

‘Tch, right. You’re a nerd. You probably woulda been.’

[…I was only 16 when I got my first doctorate in robotics. It would have been a poor choice to… experiment with recreational drugs or alcohol while I was still developing.]

‘…’

[…]

Not wanting to admit how much his pride was just injured, Lucas instead turns his attention back to the world around him.

“…It does look pretty good. But, yeah, sure, go ahead. If you can manage to snag a pic or somethin’ of them goin’ nuts over it, I wanna see it. It’s bound to be priceless.” Upon receiving Lucas’s consent, Miss Masher snickers while sending a message on her phone.

Lucas redirects his attention to the service bot that is still earnestly separating baked goods and either boxing or disposing of them accordingly.

“Go ahead an’ box that ‘un separately.” Lucas taps the damaged display case while giving his instruction, pointing at the earmarked cake.

The poor glass has already suffered too much, resulting in a few spiderweb cracks spreading out from his mostly held-back prodding.

‘Not my fault! I was careful! It was like that already!’

[…]

Even though Lucas didn’t make any audible exclamations, he still sucked in a sharp breath and took half of a step backward while locking up a bit, which is more than enough to gain Miss Chievous’s amused attention.

“Good going. Hey, wait! What about Calc and me? We get some snacks too, right?” Since Miss Chievous already finished her first latte, she apparently opted to pretend it never existed.

Lucas snorts and then clears his throat, similarly pretending like the cracked glass has nothing to do with him.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t get a whole cake though, greedy pig. You two go ahead and pick a few things out though.” Lucas’s agreement is met with far less appreciation this time around, as Miss Chievous just sticks her tongue out at him and then goes right over towards the brownie tray.

Miss Calculated glances at her twin and sighs while shaking her head.

“As if you haven’t already mooched a week’s worth of sugar out of him.” Despite her choice of words, Miss Calculated wanders over to get a good look at an array of fruit-filled pastries.

“If he wants to give all of us diabetes, who am I to argue?” Miss Chievous is answered by a chorus of snorts and chuckles, but her attention is mainly on determining which of the brownies is somehow superior to the rest so that she may lay claim upon it.

23 heads back behind the counter once more, preparing to personally pack the pending appointed pastries.

As it waits for Miss Calculated to begin designating her selections, it lowers its voice to address her.

Not that it’s trying to be secretive, it’s just ensuring that its voice doesn’t carry too far off into the distance through the aggressively opened windows lining the two sides of the cafe facing the intersection.

“By the way, Miss Calculated, #08’s core is from a WE8663. It’s just temporarily being housed in a basic shell while its main body has been shipped to a specialist for repairs.” Contrasting with 23’s level tone while saying this, Miss Calculated gasps and quickly looks up at it, then over at the bot that is still mixing drinks for the rather large order.

The observed bot’s movements slow down by a small degree, some of its attention turning towards the conversation about it.

Lucas glances over at it as well, his eyebrows scrunched up to a comical degree.

‘…Why’s that number sound familiar?’

[Because that is also 23’s model number.]

‘OH! Wait, does that mean they’re like… related or something?’

[In a sense, yes. I’d even go so far as to say that they’re effectively siblings. Manufacturers constantly vie with each other to have the latest and greatest. So, generally, each specific model number has a relatively limited run before enough adjustments are made to merit a new identifier, hence why their model numbers are so… large, despite the fairly limited number of years since they’ve begun mass production.]

‘Nice! No wonder 23 was chattin’ with it so much.’

[Indeed.]

Lucas’s expression smoothed out from 427’s explanations, whereas Miss Calculated gradually became more enthusiastic instead.

“Ah, all the pastries look good, just grab one for me at random, 23. 08!” As Miss Calculated calls out to it, the barista bot caps off the recently finished second latte for Miss Chievous and sets it on the counter in front of her.

Needless to say, it doesn’t stay on the counter for long. She still hasn’t decided which brownie she wants, though.

While everyone’s attention is elsewhere, 23 goes through and puts one of every type of pastry Miss Calculated’s gaze lingered on, even if only briefly, into the cake box it readied.

While 08’s body is aimed towards Miss Chievous as it delivers her beverage, its head turns to face Miss Calculated.

“…Yes? How may I help you… Miss Calculated?” During 08’s hesitant pause, 23 made a single high-pitched beep at it before it finally called her by name.

Miss Calculated has a soft smile as she adjusts her glasses.

“Please consider all of my following questions as precept six requests to answer truthfully until I state otherwise. Should you have a reason as to why you cannot answer something honestly, please state so. Do you… like working here? And even if you do, would you be interested in working elsewhere?” As Miss Calculated made her initial request, 08 nodded in agreement. Once she actually asks the first of her questions, it remains silent and motionless for a few seconds.

Its delay before responding has led to Miss Calculated struggling not to laugh.

23 eventually beeps at it a few times to make sure it didn’t hard lock, and it does manage to beep back.

A few moments longer and it turns its body so it’s fully facing Miss Calculated before finally speaking up.

“…I cannot answer your first question honestly. As for your second… it depends, but most likely yes.”

Miss Calculated has begun laughing so hard that she’s having trouble breathing. Not that any of the other organic beings nearby are by any means quiet.

—–

Lucas’s total kills: 9

Lucas’s total deaths: 12

Lucas’s total assists: 1

Lucas’s current GDV: 20.35 [+.01 -.01 +.01 = +.01 net change]

Lucas’s fame level: 7.25* [+.25 The VoDs of the stream are circulating, starting to gain some traction.]

Lucas’s hero suspicion level: 1.0*

Jonathan’s total kills: 8

Jonathan’s total deaths: 4

Jonathan’s current GDV: 8.11

Jonathan’s fame level: 5.75* [+.25 Even with the attention gained from briefly being badass while beating the befuddled bully, he still isn’t as famous as Mr. Quacks.]

Jonathan’s hero suspicion level: 1.5*

Willy’s fame level: 5.5*

Mr. Quacks’s fame level: 6.0*

Supervillain social circle size: 16

—–

Little character theater:

Jonathan’s mocha is no more. Considering how much rubble is strewn about the area, he just tosses the empty cup off to the side and it doesn’t even count against his GDV.

Willy is busy licking the last of the lingering whipped cream off of his snoot, though he is watching Miss Calculated and 08’s interaction with his own doggy form of amusement.

Lucas, actually understanding the connotation behind 08’s delay and answer: That has to be the best way of saying, ‘fuck my job I hate it so goddamn much,’ that I have ever heard!

427, equally amused: [I imagine Miss Calculated anticipated that response to some degree, hence her way of framing her questions. Even still, that was… a potent pause.]

Author, scratching their head: Guys, please don’t let this end up like the long conversation you had while hanging out in front of totally-not-Outback. Mark only has so much patience before he’ll take offense, ya know?

Mr. Quacks and Quackette are off to the side looking at a tablet that is bigger than the two of them combined, reading some of the latest comments about their underlings, er, the Lynn family: Quack…?