The Admin watched a solo player beat off mosquitoes, stepping closer to quicksand. He’d already decided who he’d send to the Master Dungeon, but watching the other Players fail made him feel better about his choice.

Besides, it made for a break in fiddling with code.

He got a notification and absently pulled the message open, watching the Player trip into a carnivorous plant.

To: Admin

From: Emmy (Item 930) Subject: Dinner Hey, it’s getting kinda lonely here by myself, want to join me for dinner tonight? At 7?

The Admin panicked, immediately deleting the message. And then he emptied his trash folder.

He looked behind him, making absolutely sure no one had seen that.

Formal communications with NPCs were frowned upon, but allowed. To a degree. Technically.

That was not a formal communication.

The Admin got to his feet, pacing back and forth in his office.

Was he going too far? The last dozen or so messages between him and the catgirls had been anything but formal. But, they were Players now. So that was acceptable. Maybe? Was it? He’d have to go through them, checking how familiar he was getting with them. And all the NPCs.

He sat down again, looking through his recent messages. His eyes strayed to the “compose” button.

Emmy deserved an answer. It would be rude to not reply.

Obviously he’d have to refuse. Obviously. Having dinner with an… incredibly pretty… surprisingly strong… smart and creative… NPC was out of the question.

Then again, he hadn’t eaten real food in months. There wasn’t really a point. It could be argued that he was losing his humanity, not being able to remember how a fork is used. Having dinner with anyone was a good idea.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Yes.

Therefore, he would accept the offer. In an effort to remain human.

He opened a new message.

To: Emmy (Item 930) From: Admin Subject: (empty) I would love to

Too formal.

Sure!

Too informal.

Sounds like a da

Was it a date? Technically… possibly. He shouldn’t use that word, though.

Certainly

Just no.

Why noooaaarghwhausbqiqqpdmxshysuqbdspwphfy

He slammed his forehead on the keyboard.

I EAT FOOD, YES.

This was impossible. He took a deep breath.

Not sure how entertaining I can be, but I’ll do my best. At 7.

Before he could panic again, he hit “send” and immediately erased the message from his outbox.

What was he doing? What was he doing, what was he doing?

If he had dinner with an NPC… If anyone found out… If… If she sent him more messages, and he kept answering…

This could get bad. This could get very bad.

…As bad as making eleven NPCs Players and sending them to the Master Dungeon with the goal of destroying everything the Director set up?

No. Dinner with an NPC at her invitation was nowhere near that bad. But it was more time-consuming. The more time he spent with her, the bigger the chance he’d get caught and all his plans would unravel.

So this could be the only time. He’d have to tell her how dangerous it was. Or otherwise imply that dinner could never happen again.

Right.

This would be a one-time mini vacation from work. To remind himself what eating was like.

And that’s all.