The Dragon’s Dinner was one of the best places to eat throughout all of Oak City. It was an Asian fusion place, serving everything from Japanese to Korean to Chinese.
The problem was that they were in the Red Light District, and even worse, they didn’t do deliveries.
I walked in and found myself a booth.
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” A short lady asked me.
Waitresses were rare nowadays but this place still had them.
“Can I get the number five special for here and the number three to go?”
“Sure! Would you like any drinks with that? Any sauces or sides?”
“A plain fizzer for both please.”
“Mhm, and will that be all for today?”
“Should be.”
“Okay, I’ll go get that started for ya!”
I nodded and tapped my glasses.
The integration of tech was always something strange to witness these days. The most high tech places had online ordering mechanics and droid cooks making the food in the back.
It was good, reliable, and cheap food, but it could only be so good. And there was the constant hate of too much technology that a lot of people had. That was a whole other thing of its own.
But for my tastes, I liked sit down restaurants. If only because of how much I interacted with tech on a daily basis.
I scrolled social media on my AR glasses for a while. Hero fights, super models, a trending conversation about how shapeshifting actors were taking away jobs from non-wisher actors, the whole shabang.
And of course the memes. Ah, the memes.
As long as the internet has been, it has been with memes.
I tried to keep up. Everyone did. You always wanted to be on the cutting edge of humor before it expired and left you behind.
But the internet was big, you had niche communities all over the place. Pop culture was so big that the newest thing would be the old thing ten minutes after it was made.
But there were communities I followed, the biggest one being HeroBattles.
It was a site that documented and nerded over hero conflict. There was a lot of scaling, arguing, theory crafting, and all other forum nonsense.
Today's latest posts were about INOS, the newest member of the Heroes Union Major S’s.
ParagonsButtPlug: There’s no way he doesn’t scale to light speed. He went off world dude. That’s like light speed plus!
YouWishYouWereMe: Doesn’t have to be light speed. Could have just teleported if his wish revolved around destination instead of movement.
ParagonsButtPlug: Then how do you explain the increase in movement speed until the point of disappearance.
YouWishYouWereMe: Could be an enhancement. We’ve seen wishes grant multiple effects before. Its not that hard to imagine.
ILOVELIONESS: Lioness solos.
YouWishYouWereMe: No one cares.
ILOVELIONESS: Still.
INOSISKING: INOS would slap her down.
ILOVELIONESS: You haven’t even seen him fight yet? He’s new?
INOSISKING: Cope.
ParagonsButtPlug: He probably scales close to them. But we’ve never even seen Major S's fight at their full potential on earth. You don’t have enough information to compare them.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
ILOVELIONESS: Lioness is the most gorgeous. We know that at least.
INOSISKING: Genetically engineered.
ILOVELIONESS: Based on what? People always say that but she has looked the same for the past fifty years?
INOSISKING: Exactly. She’s not aging.
ILOVELIONESS: Part of her wish dipshit.
INOSISKING: She’s never even revealed her wish?
The argument went on for the rest of the thread between the two, sometimes dragging other people in, but always those two addressing each other.
I motioned up with my thumb and the thread scrolled on.
There was nothing much.
I looked up my specific area, Oak City’s third warehouse district. We weren’t the biggest warehouse district, those were off by the docks. We were just a few blocks zoned off for storage and the occasional residency in my case.
Bits and pieces came up, some about Cobra. But most of the news was still about that night with the Cobra, Airborn, and the Tank.
Nothing new.
“Here’s your order!” The lady said, coming in with a plate and drink.
“And your to-go order will be out shortly!”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Enjoy!”
Then she was off, dealing with another customer.
I lifted off my mask, just until the bottom part showed. I was in the Red Light District after all. Everyone wore masks here.
It was just the culture.
The fizzler was good. It was plane flavored, which was just artificial vanilla, and the food was great. A big bowl of ramen with thick strips of pork and all types of accessories.
It was absolutely fantastic.
A call came in.
“Did you get my steak?”
“Yes.”
“With the side of creamy potatoes and their special sauce?”
“Yup.”
Then Mochi hung up.
Dogs, always so food motivated.
I finished my food and paid my bill.
Then I left. I had my exosuit underneath this. I was always careful around this area.
I couldn’t even limp without people trying to figure out who I am. I knew some Holmes-types made a living off figuring who here was a cheating spouse, and then blackmailing them for all they had.
I took the bus back home.
Mochi came up to me and got her pets in.
“Food?”
I gave her the bag and her robotic hands took it. Then she quickly scampered off to her room to eat in private.
Next came Kimber.
Then I took off the mask and my pants and shirt, under which was the thin exosuit.
Maybe one day I could make enough through taxable means to wear the exosuit full time.
I slumped onto the couch and closed my eyes.
This was my day off. My time away from work. I went somewhere, got some food and fresh air and didn’t have to limp around.
I pulled up an old movie on the television and started watching. Mochi waddled her way into the room ten minutes in and curled up at the other corner of the couch.
“I signed you up for a social club,” Mochi yawned.
“What?”
“Its a nice club. I did my research and checked if they allowed dogs. They do and we can go there a couple times a week for my free time.”
Mochi had allocated free time. We went on walks often, but she also had a few hours a week to go out to places and explore the world. It wasn’t limited to just a few hours, but whatever she wanted to do on the outside had to coincide with what I could do outside of work. We went to the movies, the park, restaurants if they allowed dogs.
We went to a lot of places.
“Mochi--”
“Please? I want to go out too, you know. It’ll be fun!”
I sighed and slumped deeper into the couch.
“You know that excuse would be better if you didn’t use it five times a month to go to a restaurant.”
She did the puppy eyes and tail wags.
“What’s it about anyways?”
“Oh, it's a readers club held in the place beyond the Oak City Library, the main branch. They read in there, drink, eat, and discuss all types of stuff there.”
“The Moda Gomic? That place is expensive, its like a thousand dollars per month!”
Her ears lowered along with her snout.
“Mochi!”
“Your grandpa used to go there and he said he’d sign you up when you got older!”
I groaned. Clubs existed as an external social hangout spot. They were like gyms but for any other activity that involved socializing. They would organize events, have parties, and use shared interests to foster connections. They were common and the money charged for the membership represented how interesting the club would be.
And this was one of the more expensive ones, though that was mostly for show. The Moda Gomic was a historical club and took legacy members very easily. Most of its money was made from its private holdings that had been gifted to it by its various members over the years.
“Anyways,” Mochi replied. “The orientation is in a couple of weeks so dress carefully!”
“Mochi,” I grumbled.
“It’s what your grandpa would have wanted. And I think you owe it to your grandmother as well.”
I exhaled.
“I hope they feed you kibble,” I muttered.
“I’d bite ‘em.”
I smiled.
Okay, two weeks was a good amount of time. Lets see what I could get about Whimshiemer within two weeks.
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