The Hangry Hero

Yo, what's up, peeps? So, maybe after forty more days of that sweet, sweet dungeon life, I might start grooving to the vibe. But lemme tell you, I wasn't kidding. Ever had dungeon food? It's like chewing on cardboard that got bullied by a bad chef. And my stomach? Oh, it's a total diva. Right in the middle of Market Square, it decides to throw a tantrum. Like, full-on rebellion mode. Thanks a lot, stomach. Real team player.

So, I'm just chilling, walking around, casually humming Renai Circulation—you know, just vibing—when suddenly… GROOOOOOWL. Bro, my stomach sounds like it's auditioning for the next Godzilla flick. Naturally, I'm like, "Okay, easy fix." I pull up my user interface (UI), thinking I'll grab a snack from my inventory like a boss. But what happens next? BAM, "MAINTENANCE MODE."

Are. You. Kidding. Me?! Just when I needed a quick snack, my UI goes full potato mode. Seriously, it's about as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now. I'm yelling at the air, like, "Work, you stupid thing! I'm legit starving!" Meanwhile, I'm kicking the air like it owes me money. And of course, now people are staring at me. Oh sure, I'm the weirdo here, not the fact that this entire fantasy world has zero snack machines or Pocky for a starving girl. Rude.

Pause. Cue awkward look at the camera. "Alright, lesson one, fam: If you're hangry and socially awkward, just pretend you're doing some next-level street performance. Works every time. Well... half the time."

So, what do I do next? I commit. Full send. I throw my hands up like I'm about to perform the world's weirdest magic trick. "Step right up, folks, to the Invisible Vending Machine Showdown! Watch as I lose my mind trying to get a snack out of thin air!" At this point, I'm kicking, punching, doing some sort of interpretive dance. Basically, I'm giving these people a whole Broadway show.

And what's the crowd doing? Oh, they're loving it. I've officially become their personal America's Got No Talent act. Just as I'm about to bust out a mid-air flip to really sell the performance, my stomach does its Godzilla roar again. Not kidding, it sounded like the final boss was about to spawn. And mid-jump? Yep. I lose all balance and bam—faceplant into the dirt. Smooth, Yuki. Real smooth.

Looks at the camera. "Lesson two: Hunger makes you think you're a parkour master. Hunger is a liar. Don't believe the hype."

So, as I'm lying there, face down in the dirt, the crowd starts thinning out. Thank goodness, 'cause no one needs to see me do Cirque du So-lame out here. I get up, dusting off whatever's left of my dignity. I'm looking like a rejected extra from Les Misérables at this point.

Side-eye at the camera. "And lesson three, kiddos: Always, and I mean always, stash snacks in your pockets. If you don't, you'll end up doing this… whatever this is."