The receptionist smiled, showing a few too many teeth.
"Good morning, GUEST, what may I help with today?"
Ah'Ming gulped.
Although it was the lady's job to be all nice and accommodating, there was still the awkward feel of 'Oh dear, I'm being forced to talk to someone'. He couldn't tell if the stress hormones he smelt, the cortisol, in the air was from him or the receptionist.
To be fair, it was probably from him.
The scent of fear wafting around him wasn't really to do with the fact that the receptionist wasn't human, but more to do with the fact that she was something he had to talk to.
Though he wished it was AI to interact with, like an AI map that you often find in malls, Ah'Ming knew he'd probably be too scared to talk to one of those as well.
Society was far too scary for a little bug like him.
He coughed, very awkwardly. Channeling the spirit of the pretend him, the one he'd used to the people he'd... put to sleep... in the library, he spoke.
"So. Um. Where can I eat here?" Ah'Ming's last words were practically belted out in a rush, and he winced once again.
He really wished he had someone here to speak for him about this kind of stuff, he didn't want to say it himself.
The lady pulled up a full brochure, and started pointing at random destinations. She was a very good NPC, giving vague hints to the plot and everything else.
So far, Ah'Ming had successfully learned about: a seafood cuisine place, this fancy pasta place, a hokkien style eatery and countless others.
The NPC had even given a personal recommendation, being a spicy Sichuan hotpot place. Ah'Ming hadn't known that NPCs could have preferences, but he kind of understood that it was possible. Like him! If you thought about it, he was basically an NPC that was just in a different world. All the players were.
He nodded along to all of the fancy food names, and then the receptionist started complaining about the prices at some places. She even gave him gossip, some normal while others not. For example, she started listing out "The dumplings there are good, but he always re-cooks his wife back into the Xian, so you should watch out" or "The girl who runs it is a total gossip, if you go then be prepared to be bombarded with questions about your *ahem* personal life."
Ah'Ming nodded along meekly.
The receptionist was very satisfied with him.
She leaned over the front table, and patted his cheek. "You remind me of my didi!" She beamed out. All bits of scariness that he'd felt emanated from her earlier were all erased at once.
Ah'Ming smiled back.
She looked around sneakily, before slipping him a voucher. In her eyes, he looked like a pudgy little dumpling, just like her younger brother before he'd grown up to be a massive pain. "Here, take this coupon. It'll get you a free dessert at the HuoGuo place!"
He smiled, and was about to leave. He'd entered this interaction fearing the worst, but had made it out with a new Jiejie and her number.
He paused, and considered something. If this was an NPC... She should know some facts about the main story, right? Maybe she'd even lived through it before.
He coughed awkwardly. "Um. Do you... Know anything about the main storyline?"
Immediately, her face went cold. It was as though someone had pulled the blinds shut on a warm summer day, casting the room into darkness. It even felt like the room's temperature had dropped by at least a few degrees.
Unfazed by the sudden threats, Ah'Ming kind of just stood there. Yes, he was deathly afraid of social embarrassment, but a little bit of anger and threats were normal. Unless they weren't? He wasn't quite sure of how humans worked, but what the Meimei next door had taught him was: There is nothing worse than the I'm-so-disappointed-in-you face that adults always had.
No social interaction was considered failed, unless they brought out the I'm-so-disappointed-in-you face.
His feet stood grounded in the earth, like a stubborn scarecrow. Seeing that I'm-so-disappointed-in-you face hadn't flinched at all, the receptionist blinked.
To be fair, she'd had the sudden thought that maybe this person had been playing her, acting all nice to get her guard down. But, it seemed as though this person really had come for the food, with the storyline clues being a... side quest?
They stood there for a little bit, just blinking at each other.
The receptionist broke first. "I'm bound by contract," She whispered. "But... Check out the ledgers in the library. The financial ones."
She leaned back over the table, and nodded at him.
Ah'Ming, knowing that everything he could get was over, left. He walked away, following the brochure she'd handed him. There was a line drawn, from the reception area to the hotpot restaurant that the NPC--- No, that his new friend had recommended.
under the crinkled piece of paper, was a little paper ticket. Bright red, with gold visuals. It was clearly a junk ticket from a prize wheel, but it promised a free plate of CiBa with every hotpot base purchased for one meal only.
Ah'Ming flipped it over, and noticed some scribbled handwriting. A1B2C3. A... code? written by the receptionist clearly, but he wasn't sure for what.
It seemed important.
Clearly, although the receptionist was bound by her contract, or something, she was trying to help him in the little ways she could. He put the ticket back in his pocket. Reimbursement was only fair, no? He'd bring her something from a bakery (not the egg tart emporium) later, as a thanks.
The other players, who had tried to sweet-talk the receptionist after seeing Ah'Ming so successfully, were only met with a blank stare, at best, or outright death threats. They glared resentfully at his back, wondering why he was able to get so much from the NPCs. Favored by the game, were all the people most soon to die.