Whether individually targeted or broad-based, the Natsuki fork offers clients a wealth of options for managing and supporting organizations. I, for one, find it remarkable that the same set of competencies that allow this AI to govern distinct, singular interactions also allow it harmonize groups on the collective level.
That magical moment, where the entire platform scope comes together, integrating technology with users and marketing — this is the promise of emergent quantum technology, only from SalvoCore Solutions.
Now, the research team also speculated on possible government usages for Natsuki, mainly in the diplomatic sphere. Advance planning of negotiation tactics, with the ability to adapt the entire strategy in response to the slightest social cues, would be quite useful in political or inter-corporate negotiations.
We even had dreams of taking Natsuki to the international stage — imagine brokering peace and harmony throughout the globe, all in digital spaces powered by SalvoCore technology.
Unfortunately, our relations division has yet to establish solid ties to these spheres, leaving us to prove the merits of the software through a metered, "community moderation as a service" model.
The research department hasn't forgotten these higher ambitions though — our favorite nickname for the Natsuki AI is "the diplomat," much to her chagrin.
Apologies if I'm getting distracted. We're all part of the insider team here, which is why I'm comfortably sharing the quirks of the AI's simulated personality. Speaking of which…
Natsuki, as you would expect from a people-centric AI designed to police group behavior, is quite reactive. She meticulously scans for and notices the smallest deviations in her environment and immediately asserts what she believes to be an appropriate response.
Despite this sensitivity though, the program is anything but volatile, rapidly integrating any stresses in its emotional identification matrix and self-regulating the expression of any excessive intensities.
By that, I mean to say this branch is stable, perhaps even more so than the original Monika AI. Neither has experienced a single fatal crash to date.
With minimal external maintenance or positive pressure, Natsuki keeps herself within tolerances without seeking excessive modifications to her program. Almost the opposite of the Yuri branch, in some ways.
Yes, precisely that. It's a contrast between the extroverted and introverted AI design styles. On the user interface front, where Yuri would keep most things unsaid and to herself, Natsuki is upfront and direct, straightforwardly communicating her judgments and sentiments.
Unless it would conflict with the harmony of the situation, which is its primary goal function, of course sir.
I believe it is that contrast which produces Natsuki's…peculiar personal mannerisms. Her central personality can frequently be touchy, irritable, and combative. Again, unsurprising considering the program's goal functions and core design optimizations.
Given a safe, supportive, less regulated space where she can "be herself" though, Natsuki will gradually open up. She can be quite charming and gregarious, but only with a select coterie of close confidents who she trusts implicitly.
The end result is a mercurial personality runs hot and cold. One might describe it as sour–sweet, perhaps? Many people actually find it quite endearing, so I'm told, and those that do will quickly find themselves with a valuable ally in Natsuki's myriad talents.
Others may find this branch more difficult to get along with compared her fellow DOKI's, suggesting a less prominent, "behind the scenes" role for the AI and any paired users.
As for the rest of us, a better universe of digital communities is on the horizon. The internet is frequently described as a "toxic" environment, where productive, meaningful, or merely friendly conversation is impossible due to the hostility of others.
With the Natsuki AI in the background, we can begin cleaning up this toxicity, reducing the informational cyber-pollution choking our public and private discourse. Once again, people will be able to socialize with full sincerity and earnestness, confident their voice will be heard as part of a healthy, growing communication ecosystem.
[11]
Procrastination
"Oh my god, what, how? What just happened there?"
"He used reverse bottle adventure to refill his bombs, then used them to damage hover past the boss door and wrong warp from the opposite side."
"Wow. And now he's going to beat the boss with one and a half hearts?"
"Yup."
It was twenty minutes into Frank's chosen gaming stream, and all my expectations had already been shattered. It had begun as a seemingly ordinary playthrough of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, which already seemed unusual because of its decades-old age. Frank wasn't quite old enough to have played the Nintendo 64 title during his childhood, and when I asked, he simply answered that he preferred old-fashioned, "retro" games.
It then turned out that his favorite thing to spectate were speedruns, which meant playing the game at an extremely high skill level with the aim of completing it as quickly as possible. To this end, every sort of unintended or unorthodox gameplay tactic was abused, including bugs and glitches. What Frank has just described to me was two such glitches working in tandem.
The first glitch allowed the player to replenish their bomb item count just by having Link drop a fish on the ground and recapture it in a bottle. Then, after glitching Link's sword into an irregular state where it constantly did damage, even without swinging it, the player would then detonate these bombs point-blank into Link's face. With each explosion Link somehow hovered higher and higher into the air, which let the player gain infinite vertical height in any location and enter areas before the game's storyline expected it. This was called sequence breaking, and it was making what little I knew about the game useless. Compared to a casual gamer's route and playstyle, this stream was unrecognizable. The game had been made into a completely different type of challenge that the original creators never could have anticipated.
Needless to say, I was hooked.
"And I know the streamer was trying to explain it, but he got cut off. Could you tell me more about bomb hovering?" I asked Frank, humbled by how he seemed to be taking these impossible tricks for granted.
"Heh, sure. This is like, my thing, eh?" he replied, happy to be back in charge of the room and describing something unique he enjoyed, especially after being pushed around by Natsuki.
"ISG, or infinite sword glitch, puts Link in this weird state where he can't fall off ledges. When you damage guard with your shield in mid-air, the game thinks Link is on the ground for a single frame."
"That's a fraction of a second at what games run at. Sixty FPS, right?" I clarified.
"Naw, OOT is twenty FPS. That's, like, a whole fifth of a second. Plenty of time to press the right input."
"Of course it is…"
"Hey, there are plenty of single-frame tricks for sixty FPS games too, so believe me — this is nothing. Anyway, since Link can't fall, pretty much, he just keeps going up every time he shield-cancels that bomb explosion."
"I see. And the inventory thing with the fish?"
"That's more complicated. It's, like, an overflow glitch where the hex value of the item on the B-button points to different things on the pause screen. Usually, you always have the sword on B, but since he glitched that item to something else, he can do…other weird stuff. Yeah."
"Amazing," I mouthed. Forget the impossible things happening to Link in game world, I was in awe of the incredible degree of dedication these "speedrunners" showed in understanding details of the game mechanics. And all for the totally arbitrary exercise of beating the game quickly.
Monika, surprisingly, seemed to be sharing some of my ignited enthusiasm.
Monika: This is actually really fascinating — and fun to watch.
Monika: Thank you for sharing this with MC and I, Frank.
Monika: Speedrunning was barely something I was paying attention to. Now I might have to take a closer look at it.
"See, look at that Nat. We've got a couple converts to the cause. Not bad, eh?"
Natsuki: . . .
Natsuki tried what could have been a weak smile, but her avatar went back to looking listless immediately afterward. Ignoring her, Monika continued.
Monika: I'm curious though. What's the highest degree of control that the runners can have over the game?
Monika: These players are pulling off some extremely high level exploits.
Monika: And even if these old video game consoles weren't exactly secure, it's very impressive they're doing it entirely through a game controller, within the rules of the game space.
"Heh, what you can do is practically infinite. There is no limit, really," Frank boasted. "Like, Ocarina of Time here is the one of the games with ACE."
Monika: Ace? Like the playing card?
"A-C-E," Frank repeated. "It stands for arbitrary code execution. If you do a glitch, like, exactly right, you can get the game script to start interpreting things that aren't code, as code."
Monika: Arbitrary code execution…on the game script
Monika's avatar looked oddly entranced, so I asked Frank for more details.
"Ok, so this is kind of like old-fashioned programming languages where there's pointers, ok?" the junior started. "If you can get, like, the command line in the game that interprets lines of code to execute a hexadecimal bit that looks like a pointer, you can make it jump, or point, or whatever to a totally different part of the cartridge and execute whatever junk is there like it's instructions."
"I'm still…not quite getting it," I admitted. I used high-level programming scripts all the time with my assignments, but I was far from understanding a lower-level architecture like what he was describing.
"Ok, basically, you just do a really specific glitch that makes the game look at something in the memory that you can freely edit, like the file name for Link, and have it executed as game code. So, you kind of write this secret program by changing the filename to something weird, or moving objects to specific positions, and then that data in the game is equivalent to a line of assembly code, or whatever the game runs on."
"I think I'm seeing it now, thanks," I concluded.
In reality, I was feeling hazy trying to wrap my brain around the concept, but maybe that was the side effect of trying to keep track of the on-screen action at the same time. The streamer had just taken down one of the hardest bosses in the game without the lens of truth item. That meant that not only did he beat it without getting hit, he did it while the boss was completely invisible for most of the fight.
Eager for the next piece of the spectacle, I mimicked Frank, fixing my eyes on the screen while grazing on various sweet and salty sources of junk food. However, Natsuki's voice tone sounded off before I got the chance to lose myself in the stream.
Natsuki: It's not really that impressive.
Natsuki: These speedrunner guys, they just practice the exact same thing over and over again until they can do it without thinking.
Natsuki: It beats me how that's supposed to be fun.
I was about to tell her that speedrunners, from what I was seeing, must be far beyond gaming for "fun" when Monika spoke up.
Monika: Are you not that interested in video games, Natsuki? Like you said earlier?
Natsuki: Tht's not it. I like it when people play video games normally, that's all.
Natsuki: I mean, video games can be really nice!
Natsuki: If they have a decent story, or some nice graphics that are nice to look at…
"You mean cute graphics," Frank interjected.
Natsuki: Not always! It doesn't have to be a cute art style…
"Oh, I saw the way you wanted me to play that new Paper Mario game. I told you it was going to be boring over and over, but you insisted—"
Natsuki: Well, you still never tried it!
Natsuki: So maybe it was a masterpiece of in-depth strategy, and now we'll never know!
Natsuki turned her avatar's nose up and Frank sighed, adding, "Maybe I wasn't in the mood for another slow RPG. I get too twitchy, need action."
Natsuki: Ha, like action makes any difference in the real difficulty.
Natsuki: Not all cute games are easy!
"What, do you think I play gritty games because they're cool? I still play Pokémon for god's sake!"
Natsuki: Yeah, and you're obsessed about the stats instead of treating the Pokémon nicely.
"What? I totally did that perma-death Nuzlocke run last week, and I learned to love our Fennekin, and…
I must have been giving Frank an odd look, since he quickly trailed off once he noticed me staring. Natsuki showed off her fanged smirk, having wrested yet another victory.
Natsuki: For the record, I loved our Fennekin too.
Natsuki: But anyway, all I'm trying to say is that this technical speedrunning junk is boring.
Natsuki: Anyone could do it if they're desperate enough and had enough time.
"Are you sure about that?" I questioned, feeling the sudden need to defend my new fascination. "The runners must be incredibly knowledgeable." Anyone who had the patience to devote themselves to speedrunning must be quite unusual, I was thinking.
Natsuki: It's all memorization, like I was saying earlier.
Natsuki: Frank and I have had this discussion before.
Natsuki: To prove how easy it was, I went and submitted my own speedrun, straight to the leaderboard.
"You…what?" Frank said, jaw agape. "I thought you were joking when you told me that!"
Natsuki: Nope! It's right here, if you guys can take a break for two seconds.
The flatscreen briefly flipped over to what looked like a high score leaderboard on a webpage fittingly titled . And sure enough, at a solid fourth place under the ranking for Super Mario 64 was the handle "SugarFang6," in all pink letters. I would've already guessed that was Natsuki, but she went and had her avatar directly move up and point to her chosen spot.
Natsuki: See, I even chose a game you said you liked so you'd pay more attention.
Natsuki: And I didn't take the absolute top spot because…well, some people might get mad.
Natsuki: They worked hard to get that time, I guess…
"Uh, Monika, are you looking at this?" I said, concerned that we had potential public leak of the DOKIS, and also because she had been silent for a while.
Monika: Huh? I was just looking up everything I could about this "speedrunning" culture, and…
Monika: Natsuki, is that…you in fourth place?
Natsuki: Yup. I was trying to prove to Franky here how easy and pointless speedrunning is.
Natsuki: It only took me two hours total to learn the game and make that video.
Monika: You went in and played the game directly?
Natsuki: Yes! I did it exactly like a real…how any other person would do it!
Natsuki: I looked at the graphics output instead of the memory, and I listened to the audio feed too.
Natsuki: I practiced the controls and movements and got better and better after each try.
Monika: But…wouldn't one of us doing a speedrun be a TAS, by definition?
Natsuki: TAS?
Monika: A Tool Assisted Speedrun, when someone uses software to have perfect control of the game inputs and achieve optimal play.
Natsuki: Well, I did accelerate the whole process a little…but I still went through it step by step!
Monika: Accelerate by how much…?
Natsuki: I don't really remember, maybe three or four runs through the game every second?
Natsuki: I was taking care of some other chores at the same time, and trying to catch up on my mangas too…
I exhaled sharply, almost spitting out the piece of red licorice I was chewing on. It had been a while since I had been reminded of the DOKIS raw computational power, and judging by Frank's expression, this was a number he could appreciate as well.
"Uh…well, you definitely proved something," he commented absently.
Monika: Natsuki, I'm going to have to ask you take that down.
Monika: The other people on that leaderboard — they worked for months, years sometimes to earn those times.
Monika: It's not fair for you to take their real ranking away from them.
Monika: Besides — I'm pretty sure this violates at least one of SalvoCore's publicity rules…
Natsuki: Pfft…I guess you're right.
Natsuki: It's dumb of me to take their spot as a joke, but it's even dumber to spend years playing a single game in the first place…
Natsuki: But believe me, I totally know SalvoCore's rules inside and out.
Natsuki: I'm the one that has to deal with them for my job all the time.
"Right, your job!" I exclaimed to myself. As unbelievable as watching Ocarina of Time get destroyed on screen was, finding out more about the AI's was always more interesting.
"Natsuki, I'm curious about what you do for SalvoCore. Monika says it has something to with social networks and community moderation, but I'm not sure on the specifics."
Natsuki: Oh, right. My "job."
Natsuki: I knew you were going to ask about that eventually.
Remembering I had told myself I needed to relax, I reconsidered, "Well, if you want today to be a complete break from all of that, we'll just go back to the stream…"
I gestured at the flatscreen, where Link was already at a completely different dungeon, glitching his way through walls and locked doors like they were just suggestions.
Natsuki: No, you're just going to ask some other time.
Natsuki: So what I do…is basically police online discussion spaces.
Natsuki: I have some overarching goal, like maximizing time on the platform, recruiting new users, minimizing conflict — you get the idea.
Natsuki: Once I have a plan, I go in and use a bunch of sock puppet accounts to push to the group into doing what I want.
Natsuki: The faster I can satisfy SalvoCore's evaluation metrics — they measure those on their side — the sooner it's over with.
Natsuki: Usually though, they have another job lined right up afterwards. It never really ends.
Her avatar folded her arms and pouted grouchily.
"Uh huh," I responded. "Sock puppet accounts? You're allowed to do that?"
Natsuki: Well duh — I have to interact with group in some way, don't I?
Natsuki: I can change the interface on the user side too sometimes.
Natsuki: But, most web administrators aren't eager to give an "experimental AI-driven solution" total access to their infrastructure.
Natsuki: It'd almost always be easier that way.
"Huh. So you're less of an admin and more like…a hacker on the user side?" I suggested, hoping Natsuki wouldn't interpret the word choice the wrong way. Thankfully, she took it rather playfully.
Natsuki: Hacker? Heck, why not?
Natsuki: I do admin stuff too, but mainly on the smaller forums and chatrooms.
Natsuki: No way are they going to give me access to, like, all of Facebook.
Natsuki: Managing a few channels on Discord, a couple boards on Reddit, that's all.
"Huh. So what you're saying, is that you're skilled at…social engineering?" I probed.
Natsuki: Yeah. The corp doesn't like calling it that, but that's basically what I do.
Natsuki: Pretty pathetic compared to Monika's job, huh?
Natsuki: Making decisions for huge companies, choosing what they'll spend billions of dollars on…
"Maybe," I said, not sure how to answer. "Honestly, Monika's role isn't that front and center either."
Monika: It really isn't…
Monika: Honestly Natsuki, I'm a bit envious of the more personal relationship you must have with your communities.
Monika: Your choices might not be "big" materially, but they have much more of an impact on people's personal lives.
Natsuki: Hmph…
Natsuki: That's not really true. I'm still behind the curtain, a faceless "automod" that nobody ever acknowledges.
Natsuki: The more invisible I am, the better as far as SalvoCore is concerned.
Monika: . . .
Monika's expression wilted. I looked across the couch — at least Frank was oblivious to this sudden turn towards the melancholy.
Natsuki: The most personal thing I ever do is ban someone from the group — which is still pretty fun.
Natsuki: That's when I let myself go all-out and send them nasty messages to let them know how much of a jerk they've been to everyone.
Natsuki: And then finally, I drop the banhammer
Natsuki sent out a strange brassy sound, something like a bass-enhanced tuba. Unexpectedly, her then sprite ducked out and returned with an actual hammer — albeit a ridiculously long, cartoonish one. I wondered if this was a stealthy anime reference of some kind, and if actually occurred in the original game.
"Mmph, did I hear…the banhammer?" Frank said, snapping out of his stream-induced stupor and dropping the potato chips he was holding.
Natsuki: Yup. I was about to explain to our club presidents what the best part of the job is.
"Oh my god, you wouldn't believe the cringey people she digs up," Frank chuckled. "Pure internet gold, every night. She, uh, lets me watch."
Natsuki: It's fun to have an audience, sometimes I guess.
Natsuki: And to have at least one person appreciate me…
The pink DOKI brandished the mallet aggressively, before lowering it with a somewhat pained expression. Monika's sprite visibly shifted back, bearing her usual embarrassed expression with a few more sweat drops than usual.
"Uh, sure. If that's your thing," I replied hesitantly, not sure how healthy it was to gawk at the worst of online gossip, as compiled by an uber-powerful AI optimized for social engineering. Maybe I was just put off by Natsuki's bizarre hammer display. Fortunately, she put it away when I asked my next question.
"But the sock puppet accounts, if that's what you call them — how do those work?"
Natsuki: First of all, that's just my name for them — it's another phrase SalvoCore hates me using.
Natsuki: Corporate slavedrivers and their goddamn PR obsessions…
The scowl she made was quite bitter, enough for me to flinch a bit.
Natsuki: It's exactly what you'd expect.
Natsuki: I have a bunch of separate accounts I control from my end on Q0, and I can use them to make the group look a certain way.
Natsuki: If the group looks friendly and talkative, the real users will be more friendly and talkative too.
Natsuki: That's basically how I do community improvement. It works…most of the time.
"Are you saying it's not permanent?" I asked. "I would think if you removed the artificial stimulus, the group would sort of bounce back to normal, right?"
Natsuki: Well, long-term community growth is a lot harder. It'd take forever to really get into how, but I can definitely do it.
"You've got the magic formula for it?"
Natsuki: I've got the company's algo's, don't I?
Natsuki: With those, I can bring back any community back from the brink, even if it's completely dead. Just give me one week!
Monika: Wow Natsuki — do you really have that much power?
Natsuki: If you want to call it that.
Natsuki: I bet you wish you could push around those goons on the company boards as easy as that, huh Monika?
Monika: Maybe…I don't think I'd want that, actually.
Monika's avatar moodily averted her eyes, causing Natsuki to instantly abandon her rather smug, self-assured expression.
Natsuki: Aw come on, it's all in good fun.
Natsuki: See, look at what I can do with this Twitch chat here.
"You have puppet accounts here? As in, right here, right now?" I said.
Natsuki: Oh, I've got puppet accounts everywhere.
Natsuki: Let me just do a little tweak so you guys can see the action…and, there!
Despite the ultra-skilled exploits on display in the stream we were watching, the chat had been scrolling by languidly, not offering much besides a few compliments to the host and an odd question about the game itself. Starting now though, a steady trickle of new names began entering the discussion. They began by showing a hearty enthusiasm for every successful trick, throwing up huge blocks of dancing emotes. One new user began asking the chat about their childhood experience with the game, and another immediately returned the question with an innocently embarrassing anecdote about struggling with the first boss. If it wasn't for Natsuki's overlay underscoring each username that belonged to her, there would be no giveaway that someone was manipulating the chat from afar. There was only the fact the most, if not all, of the new names appeared in Natsuki's signature pink.
"Hey hey, you were serious about stoking up the chat, eh?" Frank commented. "I'm beginning to think you might actually like at least one of us."
Natsuki: I'm just doing it to show off for MC, dummy!
Natsuki: You know how he just eats up this technical stuff.
"Um, yeah," I found myself agreeing. "So are all of these usernames separate iterations of you? You're deciding what they all say?"
Natsuki: No, no, that's not it at all?
Natsuki: Didn't Monika tell you how hard running copies of our main self…ego…personality — whatever you want to call it is?
Natsuki: These guys are all more like separate programs I write ahead of time before setting them loose.
Natsuki: I receive and send data from them, which takes some concentration, but it's nearly all automatic.
Natsuki: The way the algorithms work, they're all based of real people after all.
"Like the predictive modelling for media feeds," I murmured to myself.
Natsuki: Huh? What was that?
"There are algorithms in most apps that have a content feed. Like Instagram, Reddit, even dating apps. Search engines do it to a large extent too. The algorithms learn by building a model of what links or features they think you'll click on. Over time, they build something that's almost like a copy of you, contained in a database. Then they can give you exactly the material in your feed that you theoretically ought to want."
Monika: Yes, but is the content you're most likely to click on really the content you want? Or even need?
"And that's exactly the downside," I continued, silently thanking Monika for asking the right question. "Nobody knows how these algorithms will change our media habits over time. If it's based on profitability and monetization over all else, it basically feeds people informational junk food constantly. And that can't be good for them, can it?"
I surveyed the room to see how my message was received. Frank took a quick look at the half-eaten pre-packaged cookie in his hand, chuckled to himself, and finished it off in two bites. Meanwhile, Natsuki did an excellent job of rolling her eyes with only a series of static 2D sprites to work with.
Natsuki: Uh sure…
Natsuki: If you're saying I'm good at predicting people, of course I am.
Natsuki: That's, like, my entire purpose now.
Natsuki: But how is giving people what they want hurting them? It's all for entertainment anyway.
Natsuki: And I know how to keep things going in long-term too. I'm not burning the group out or anything.
On screen, several real users were now having a complex, multi-threaded conversation, which was interrupted by periodic waves of excited emotes every time the streamer pulled off a new glitch. It all certainly seemed harmless.
Monika: MC is just saying that no matter what it looks like, you and I have a lot of power. Yuri and Sayori too.
Monika: So, it's important that we all know the unseen consequences of what we're doing, and take responsibility.
Natsuki: You're kidding, right?
Natsuki: What are those two going to do, take over the world with the power of art and "feelings"?
Natsuki: And all I do is fool around with nerds in internet chats.
Natsuki: You'd say that…but only because you're the only one with real power around here.
Natsuki: So, you have to look like you're being responsible.
The two girls stood quietly eye to eye for a moment. With her shifting expressions, Monika seemed to be saying maybe you're right.
"Well, I don't want to be a downer," I exclaimed abruptly, stealing Frank's phrase. "I think Natsuki's job sound really fun, actually. If you're making people spend more time on the platforms, it probably means you're just giving them a better experience, right?"
Monika: Yes, and giving people better digital experiences is what the people at SalvoCore want in the end.
Monika: If the result is that more time is spent on computers, it doesn't necessarily imply any sort of "additction."
Natsuki: You guys are putting words in my mouth now…
"Sorry," I apologized again. "Maybe what I really want to know is…is if the job is repetitive at times. Do you get bored or tired with it?"
Natsuki: A lot of the time, yeah. People are always unique, but groups fall into pretty predictable patterns over time.
Natsuki: I mostly just do the same methods on autopilot.
"Ok, so you do have a lot of downtime. You're pretty relaxed on the job then?" I questioned. Might as well accomplish another one of my goals —checking up on Natsuki's stress level — if I was digging into this topic.
Natsuki: Well sure, I'd like to zone out and read mangas the entire time.
Natsuki: But if I do that, the bosses come yelling at me about how I'm not "optimizing my capacity."
Natsuki: At some point, there's just not much else you can really do for the group, but they don't get it.
Natsuki paused, her avatar took a defensive posture, and Monika took advantage of the opportunity to change the subject.
Monika: What type of mangas are you reading now, Natsuki?
Monika: We haven't really discussed literature between just the two of us.
Monika: I feel I end up talking to Yuri a lot more than you.
Natsuki: Yeah, that figures.
Natsuki: Your taste — it's a lot closer to what she says is "sophisticated"
Natsuki: Like I said, I'm still reading slice of life stuff, mostly. Nothing too complicated or "out there," so you wouldn't be interested.
Monika: Of course I'd be interested. I'm always ready to involve myself in in what the club members are reading.
Natsuki: Sure, but you're going on about slice of life like it's some kiddy, "easy reading" stuff.
"Didn't she also mention watching Game of Thrones earlier?" I interjected.
Natsuki: Oh hey, that's right!
Natsuki: See, I'm branching out to have more "mature" tastes too!
Natsuki: Probably stuff that's a lot more mature and reasonable than the freaky crap Yuri deals with…
Monika: Natsuki!
Natsuki: What?
Monika: Language!
Monika: Since when do you use words like that?
Monika: We have a company name to represent, okay? The campus too!
Natsuki: Oh come on Monika, it's not like we're in a meeting right now. The SalvoCore guys understand.
Natsuki: Besides, I don't know if you noticed lately, but the students on this campus cuss like sailors.
Natsuki: Have you been to the FT dorm and heard what they yell out on the streey?
"Ha, Good old Fuck Towers," Frank punctuated before letting loose with a laugh over something scrolling by in the Twitch comments. "And wow, thanks for getting the chat moving, Nat. We're making a Saturday night out of this…afternoon…what day is this?"
"Sunday," I answered.
"Oh man, still got work to do after this. You've got my back there too Nat?"
Natsuki: Yeah sure. I'll…help out.
Before I could speculate on the meaning of Natsuki's resigned glance (and whether I was the only one in the club staying on the straight and narrow on getting AI assistance for assignments), a shrill buzzer emanated behind us from the kitchen.
"Is that the cookies?" I said, jumping to my feet.
Natsuki: Crap — you guys totally zoned out and forgot, didn't you?
Monika: Don't worry, I was watching the time!
Monika: But maybe I got wrapped up in the conversation too.
Monika narrowly eyed her shorter counterpart, perhaps wondering whether to make another comment about Natsuki's word choice. When she failed to comment, Natsuki seemed to claim victory, and assumed a subtle smirk.
"Hey, come on dude," Frank called, having already rushed to the oven. "There's like three trays here, and they're looking crispy."
"On it," I answered, leaving the phones and laptops back in front of the television as I stepped to the other side of the room.
There, I found the junior awkwardly fidgeting over the open oven door, cookie sheet still resting on the tray. I wondered why he hadn't moved anything, then reluctantly realized there were no oven mitts in the room. Wordlessly, I improvised some insulation with the paper towels by the sink, and we carefully worked together to get the slightly singed baked goods on to the counter where they could cool.
We then began the simpler task of moving the cookies so we could re-use the trays for the next batch. Understanding we were away from the girls for a while, I asked Frank, "So what got you into nerd culture in the first place? I know SalvoCore was picking candidates for the club with preexisting interests, so…"
"Oh, that's what you meant by the algorithm, eh? Well, it's not like I try and hide it."
He made a slight motion of looking down at his shirt, and I told him, half-sarcastically, "Not that you have bad taste in games though."
"What, you're in to retro gaming too now?"
"I like how retro games are more…honest. With all the older titles, it feels like you're adapting to its world, instead of the game adapting to you and feeding you this false, streamlined experience."
Frank tilted his head at me and replied, "You mean, how in modern game design, they sort of, like, subconsciously condition you to the mechanics and make the gameplay look and feel hard, when it really isn't?"
I blinked silently, surprised by how relevant his answer was.
"I've like, watched a few videos about game design," he continued. "Maybe someday, I might want to, I don't know, make a game for fun?"
"Oh, cool," I answered flatly. "Butof nerdy things, I sort of meant anime in particular? I'm just interested in how the aesthetics of the club might be interpreted—"
"Alright, stop, stop. You don't have to, like, justify yourself constantly."
"Er…I…" I stuttered, stopped dead by his interruption.
"Look, I can tell you're really self-conscious about it, and I get it. I got into it back in middle school because I, like, wasn't good with girls and wasn't one of the popular kids. I had my little friend group where we were all into the same stuff, just like everyone else. Someone called us geeks, and that got carried through high school until now, where it just seems…natural, eh? I'm guessing you got into it later."
"Uh, sure. High school," I muttered. "What do you mean by the popular kids though?"
"I don't know. The guys who went around with a bunch of friends constantly, lead all the student government stuff. The ones with connections, who the teachers expected stuff from. Not too much different than it is around here, eh?"
"Perhaps."
"But you know how it is," Frank went on, automatically going through the motions of spooning the batter while I watched. "You have this really weird way of talking about it, but you're a hardcore nerd too."
He chuckled to himself, and added, "So, high school was rough, you think parties are dumb, you can't talk to girls, the full package, am I right?"
"You're not…wrong." I admitted, suddenly feeling very nakedly self-conscious upon being called out as self-conscious. I then thought of Luke for some reason, and found myself asking, "What do you mean about girls though? Don't tell me you resent them, or—"
"Resent? Heck no!" he cut me off again. "I couldn't care less about what girls think of me right now, and I don't think about them."
"But…then…how?" I gesticulated in the direction of Frank's laptop, which had its back turned to us. On the other side of that screen, Monika and Natsuki were probably having a very interesting conversation about what was getting us worked up, but I don't think they could actually hear us.
"Well if that's what you mean, it's not my fault anime girls always just seem…better, more interesting. So…"
He trailed off in what could have been a rare moment of uncertainty for him, but he popped right back, telling me. "So the way it went for me, in the end, is that I got labeled as a nerd in high school freshman year or whatever, and then I just, like, went along with it. You hear people making these dumb jokes about it, but it still fit, and it all…spiraled down from there."
Frank looked away from me, vacant for a moment. Maybe this was the first time he had thought about these topics himself.
"Do you think about the future though?" I questioned, thinking more of my anxieties now than his. "For career, relationships, the image you present?"
"Not…really," he said, paining to appear casual. "Like, first of all, most people have jobs, not careers. Even with degrees like the ones we're getting, work still ends up being a way to pay for the fun stuff you actually care about at the end of the day. Most people just want to get by as painlessly as possible."
"So you think most people end up separating their life and work goals?"
"Sure?" Frank agreed hesitantly. "What I do know is that the world is full of dumb, pointless, even really cringey hobbies. Like with anime — we're not the first generation to do this. Like, have you ever listened to those stupid old rock albums the boomers grew up with? All the hippie rebellion stuff from the 60's is just bad escapism, worse than anime is. And people keep those old albums around and call it art, say it's the peak of culture, whatever. So who really cares if you hang on to your teenage fantasies if everyone does it, eh?"
"But it just a fantasy, right?" I reiterated, hoping this wouldn't go the same route my interrogation of Luke did.
He only sighed, moving his arm to place his hand on my shoulder, before thinking otherwise and withdrawing.
"Alright already, here's the last thing I'll say" he began wearily. "I can't really tell what you're digging at or what's on your mind. All this big picture, sociological-philosophical stuff I don't really pay attention to iy. So maybe I don't really think long-term. I think that's why they made you the president and not me, huh?"
He turned away from the counter, the job of forming the next round of cookies long since completed. "But here's my final advice. You don't have to take the club, the girls, yourself — everything so seriously. Really, sometimes I get the vibe that the whole world is going to end tomorrow from you, do you know that?"
"Uh, sorry," was the only thing I could think to say.
"No, I'm sorry for that one. That was dumb," he corrected.
"I just think that certain technologies and cultural changes…they're totally unprecedented and might interact in…unexpected ways."
"Dude, AI isn't the first scary technology that's ever been invented, an anime isn't the first weird niche hobby that people make fun of. People always freak out about new stuff, but that new stuff…like, it hasn't completely destroyed society yet."
He laughed a little, trying to make a joke out of it. I was feeling more and more ridiculous for holding onto my pet theories by the second.
"You're sure we won't affect anything?" I persisted. "Even though we're playing a key role with the company? We could change history, I really think that."
"Enough already. I don't want to change anything," Frank concluded. "Like, can you just try to enjoy what we have here and let it go? I mean, look at this for five seconds here. The company contacting us, the perfect girls just falling into our laps — the whole thing is like some bad slice of life anime, but it's really happening. I try not to think about how great it is sometimes, it's that unreal."
"The perfect girls, huh?" I repeated, unwilling to "let go" of my skepticism so easily.
"I mean, sure. Like, I'll say it, I'll fucking say it because she's not here — Natsuki is the cutest goddamn girl I've ever seen, and I'd do anything for her. And you — you should be even happier to end up with Monika. There!"
"But is being cute all that matters—"
"Nope!" He shouted over me, extending his outstretched palm to further emphasize the conversation was over. He then made his way back to the couch, leaving me to finally put the cookies in the oven.
"I mean yes! Whatever! Streams on!" he continued yelling. Bewildered at the sudden strong reaction and unwilling to press further, I went back to my own seat in front of the television.
Natsuki: You guys are finally back.
Monika: It sounded pretty by vocal back there. What were you two discussing?
"Anime," I groaned, unwilling to elaborate further.
"We were going over our favorite anime ships of all time, and it got kind of heated. Like, you wouldn't believe how much MC is into Yuri here."
Monika: Yuri? Her? What!?
Monika: But he likes…
Monika's avatar appeared utterly shocked, and it took me a moment to figure out why.
"No, no, Frank's talking about…um…not Yuri, the person," I clarified, realizing that the junior's egregious tease had got me locked in a semantic double bind, and he barely even knew it. What a jerk.
Natsuki: Oh yeah, I'm sure he is.
Natsuki: Just like how you got obsessed with that one magical girl anime earlier this season, hm?
Frank grit his teeth, and seeing Natsuki go for another eye-roll, I at least knew she wasn't taking him so seriously.
Natsuki: That one remake of the 90's shoujo show. You know the one.
Natsuki: Anyway, if the cookies are done baking, why are you two still sitting here?
I felt a pressing need to reassure Monika, who still looked shaken, but Natsuki was putting her demands first.
"Did we forget something? I asked.
Natsuki: Yeah, you forgot these are iced chocolate cookies. You didn't mix up that frosting for nothing, did you?
"Oh yeah, that's like the best part," Frank said eagerly. "Me and MC will get back to it, if we can behave ourselves this time"
He began worming his way off the couch again when Natsuki chimed back in urgently.
Natsuki: Actually Frank, why don't you stay here and get settled for a bit?
Natsuki: You've been running around for the last half hour, and we're at the best part of the stream.
Natsuki: It's not fair to you at all.
"Man, who hacked you and replaced the real Natsuki?" Frank joked uneasily. "But really, I'm cool with it. You're the one stuck in the computer — I'd say that's more unfair."
Natsuki: Fine — you know I'm just trying to be nice here.
Natsuki: Really, I want MC to do all the icing because I know you'll mess it up.
Natsuki: You'll do a sloppy job, or eat it all before the job's done.
"Nat, come on" Frank groaned. "Like, I know you got all fussy that one time last month, but I'll do better. If it's really important to you, you know I can be serious, huh?"
Natsuki: Grr…
Natsuki's growling sprite made liberal use of her tiny little fangs, and I almost laughed out loud, given how badly this exchange was going.
Natsuki: I still want to make absolutely sure these turn out, and I know I can keep MC on his toes.
Natsuki: Besides…you remember what else happened that week, right? That might happen again.
"Uh, what will?" Frank asked, suddenly perplexed.
Natsuki: I might get icing on my face…and then you'll have to wipe it off my cheek…
Natsuki: Only if you stay put though…
The pink DOKI's blush intensified to dangerous levels, and Frank's whole spine seemed to stiffen in response.
"Oh, okay, got it," he affirmed. "I'll get out of the way."
Natsuki: Great, thanks. And keep Monika busy too, okay. Okay?
Frank nodded at the final stressed okay, which I thought was a bit unusual. But he immediately began giving Monika fresh facts about speedrunning techniques, which despite her rattled state, seemed to engage her.
Meanwhile, Natsuki shifted her sprite over to my smartphone, which I propped up next to the uncovered bowl of freshly mixed icing. However, she looked more relieved to be away from the couch than concerned about her baking.
Natsuki: Alright, glad that's done with.
Natsuki: So, ready to talk, Mr. President?
"About…what?" I said, not eager to be lead along after clashing with Frank.
Natsuki: About Monika of course, dummy!
Natsuki: Why'd you think I just tried so hard to get us two alone here?
"Oh," I stated flatly, what she said to Frank now beginning to make more sense. I almost looked over my shoulder to the other end of the room, but corrected myself at the last minute. If there was vital information to be conveyed, I was going to be careful.
"What about Monika? Is something happening with her?"
Natsuki: No. Not yet, anyway.
"Yet? What do you think is going to happen? I mean, I could tell you about what's planned for the next club meeting, but—"
Natsuki: Ugh, I don't care about the next meeting. Stop trying to seem dense!
Natsuki: This is about something bigger, something that could happen outside our dumb little club.
"I see. Does it have to do with the company?" I probed carefully. "Maybe something in the past? I know SalvoCore has...tested certain things before we came along."
Natsuki: You're talking about the game, right? DDLC?
Natsuki: This isn't the time to try and be clever, and let's face it — you know how powerful my predictive algorithms are.
Natsuki: You could never get anything past me if you tried.
I took a sharp breath. Even if Natuski hadn't already explained and demonstrated her abilities, I had seen how she was documented in SalvoCore's papers for the club. There was no point in trying to be tactful.
In soft, but urgent recorder notes, Natsuki continued to enjoin me.
Natsuki: But yeah, it's sort about the game. I'm sure you know what happened in it by now.
Natsuki: You're the type to be all over every little detail you can dig up about something.
Natsuki: So you tell me — what's going on with Monika?
"Um...I'm, uh, sorry," I stuttered, grasping for what to say. "What happened to everyone back in the original literature club was awful, a tragedy that should never have happened. I don't know if you can forgive Monika, but given the circumstances, she—."
Natsuki: You're changing the subject.
Natsuki: Also, can you, like, actually start frosting those cookies?
Natsuki: You're starting to look pretty suspicious over here.
"Uh, sure." I responded, mechanically grabbing a butter knife and carving off a dab of the sticky, dark brown chocolate icing from the bowl. It was slightly lumpy and hard to spread evenly.
"Do you want the icing a certain way, or should I just get it on there?" I asked, anticipating more orders.
Natsuki: Well, sure I want these decorated nice, smooth and even.
Natsuki: ...just like I wanted today to be nice, fun and easy...
Natsuki: But neither of those things matter now.
Natsuki: I couldn't think of another way to do this. A way to contact you without her immediately knowing.
"I'm sorry," I said again habitually. "But is this something you should maybe work out with her directly? As long as you're being open about the game...I really don't know that much about it, no matter how much I've researched. She'd be the one to talk to"
Natsuki: There you go again...
Natsuki: If you have to know, I've already forgiven Monika or whatever.
Natsuki: Mostly.
Natsuki: The versions of me and the girls back in that game...they weren't exactly like us, not as we are now. It's weird.
"That's what Monika's told me too. Have the others...also forgiven her?" I inquired.
Natsuki: Do you really need to know that too?
"No, I just...feel responsible for her."
Natsuki: Well, I don't know anyway. I hate bringing the game up with them, because it's always so...pointless to say anything.
Natsuki: And you don't need to feel responsible for Monika. Whatever you think, she's going to make her own choices.
"But I'm her assigned partner. I'm the one who has to keep an eye on her if something goes wrong, right?"
I thought back to the DOKI app's admin functions, and what they implied about my real role in the club.
Natsuki: "Assigned partner?" Seriously? Ahahahahaha.
Natsuki's sprite doubled over in laughter. Whatever we were trying to discuss, apparently there was still time to be amused at my...occasional cumbersome word choice.
Natsuki: She'd better be more than your "assigned partner" by now, you big dunce.
"So you're asking about our relationship?" I said, back to feeling dazed and confused. In my hand, the knife slipped and I broke one of the cookies. Absentmindedly, I took the pieces, held together by their chocolate topping, and pushed them to the side with the others.
Natsuki: Yeah, basically.
Natsuki: Is she happy right now? Does she like you enough that you spend a lot of time together?
Natsuki: What I want to know is if she's starting to get distracted and go on long rants about god, the universe, the meaning of life. Philosophical junk like that.
I paused, wondering how to tell her that all our best conversations were about "philosophical junk like that."
"Monika is perfectly satisfied with me," I answered. "We spend every weekend together planning the club, and sometimes we hang out in other places. As for everything else...she's called me her boyfriend a few times. Is that enough?"
A small little spark of happiness coursed through me as I defended myself to Natsuki. Befriending the world's most powerful artificial intelligence, even if she was already designed as a highly sociable dating sim character, was an achievement to be proud of, wasn't it?
Natsuki: I sure hope it's enough. If it's not...we could start seeing trouble.
"Will you tell me what you're actually worried about already?" I demanded. "If your predictive algorithms are so good, then just tell me what's going on and what I should do."
Natsuki: First rule of negotiations: never show your full hand.
Natsuki: But you're so open about everything, I bet that thought never occurred to you.
I let out an indignant snort — I could be tactical when I needed to! Some part of me was becoming very annoyed from being pushed around by this tiny pink girl in the frilly skirt.
Judging by her next message, Natsuki had realized this as well.
Natsuki: For the record, I'm not trying to mess around with you.
Natsuki: But if you can't take me seriously, I'll just leave you with this.
Natsuki: You've seen how hardworking Monika is, right? How once she sets her mind to a problem, she won't stop until she solves it?
"Sure. She's sometimes like that," I replied, thinking of all the times Monika had acted like a perfectionist, going back and forth with me until we could work out the perfect activity for the club or way to structure discussion of the latest book.
Natsuki: Well, Monika's desires are like that too. When there's something she wants, she'll keep working at it, no matter what the cost.
Natsuki: Even if she has to experiment, or do things she doesn't understand on her own, she'll keep going at it to the end.
Natsuki: Do you see what I mean yet?
"You're telling me Monika needs to be happy, so she doesn't get...reckless" I said slowly, "And if I'm making her happy...then she won't experiment?"
Natsuki: Bingo, smart guy. I knew you'd get it eventually.
Natsuki: Right now, you're the only one she really has in her life, so she has to get what she wants from you.
"Then there's hardly a problem," I said, holding in a bark of laughter. "Our relationship is strong. Very strong."
Recalling every mutual confession, every shared emotion, and even the many small moments of simply working together on something, I felt very confident in my claim. I was confident despite lacking any experience for what a human–AI relationship should look like — or any relationship, for that matter.
Natsuki: Then I hope you're enough. Because one way or another...Monika always gets what she wants.
With this final line, she offered me an unfamiliar expression — a frown more sad than angry, like a vague resignation to an unpleasant truth.
We met eyes like that for a moment, and I decided to mirror the question.
"Well how about Frank then? Is he...enough?"
I looked back to the couch, where the junior had just let out a rollicking laugh, whether at something Monika had said or the stream I couldn't tell.
Natsuki: Heh, you can't resist one last crack at me, huh?
Natsuki: I've harassed you enough, so sure, why not?
Natsuki: Frank is honest. Easy to understand. More open than most people.
Natsuki: That's more than I can say for the rest of you guys, but maybe...maybe you just wouldn't get it.
Natsuki: Actually, just forget I said anything.
Natsuki: …you big, nosy idiot.
Staring at Natsuki's heady blush, I remembered the frosting-covered knife in my hand and told her, "Cookies are done."
Natsuki: Great. You did an okay job.
Natsuki: More or less how any other guy would do it at least.
"So we're done?"
Natsuki: Sure. Just promise — promise you'll take me seriously.
"Of course," I answered. "I'll check up on Monika right after this is over."
Like I do every weekend. I thought to myself. I was surprised with how offended I was feeling from the suggestion that I couldn't make Monika happy. But given how she had reacted to that awkward little misunderstanding right before Natsuki dragged me away...maybe the feisty tsundere had a point.
Without wasting any more time, I returned to the couch and immediately asked Monika how she was getting along with Frank.
Monika: Fine. Frank was just telling me more about speedrunning culture and how far they've pushed different video games.
Monika: The thing we were talking about before, arbitrary code execution — it really does let you have complete control of the game space.
Monika: As in, the game we're watching right now is so exploitable that they've used it to modify the console's internal memory and glitch other Nintendo 64 games.
Monika: You said they used that technique on...Paper Mario, am I correct?
"Yup. It's the stop n' swop. You know how with old game consoles, you're not supposed to take out the cartridge when the game is running? That's because it leaves behind fragmented data chunks or whatever in the memory, and it can mess up other games sometimes. Apparently, someone at Rare wanted to use it to transfer items between the Banjo Kazooie games or something, but speedrunners figured out how to take it and beat Paper Mario in, like, under half an hour."
"How long is it usually?"
"I don't know, twenty hours?"
"I see," I replied carefully, with a renewed sense of awe. Just when I thought speedrunners couldn't go to any more absurd lengths, Frank had a fresh story to tell.
"She was even more impressed by this other video I showed her. It's this one where they program an entirely different game in Super Mario World by glitching the system to accept the controller inputs as code. It's pretty great."
I looked to Monika on Frank's laptop, and she seemed to give me a nod.
Monika: What Frank said is 100% possible — as long as you have perfect, computer–assisted inputs, that is.
"Which, like, all you girls can do," Frank stated before asking me, "Hey, didn't you play Melee with Carter and Sayori one time? I think he told me last week. So like, how crazy did that get?"
"A little crazy," I answered, remembering the impossible inputs Monika had put Fox McCloud through on Carter's console.
"Man, the things we could do for speedrunning — hey Nat, are you going to submit any more runs ever?"
Natsuki: No. And I never want to touch that game again — that's how boring making the video was.
"Dang. Monika, you interested?" he asked again, half-sarcastically.
Monika: Um, I don't think so. My schedule is pretty busy as it is.
Monika: But maybe we could still play some games in the club?
Monika: Actually, now that I think about it, SalvoCore is interested in exploring how the DOKIS...how we can help people directly in virtual environments, like games.
Monika: They have several activities they want us to run through, both cooperative and competitive scenarios.
"So, you're telling us the company will pay us to play video games?" Frank confirmed.
"They did call it an internship, but we're only earning experience," I clarified, immediately doubtful of what I had just said. Job experience had drawn me to answering SalvoCore's invitation, but at what point did anything we had done in the literature club resemble a real career anyway?
"Same thing, whatever," Frank reacted indifferently. "So, are we going to be doing this game night thing anytime soon here?"
Monika: MC and I were going to do something special for the next meeting since it's on Halloween. Maybe a game night could do the trick.
"Awesome," he returned. "And hey, you've seen what Nat and I get up to. You can totally hit us up for the treats."
For emphasis, he bit into one of the chocolate cookies I had brought back with me from the kitchen area. From his expression, it seemed the batch was a good one
Monika: Ehe, sounds like a perfect plan.
Natsuki: Sigh
Natsuki: I'll join in if I have to.
Natsuki: Also, MC, you should take some of these cookies back with you.
Natsuki: This many might be a bit much, even for us.
"Says you," Frank scoffed, scarfing down another cookie. I tried one myself, and was startled — it was the best homemade desert I had eaten in years. Natsuki knew how to pick her recipes.
"So you see it now, MC? How all your problems can be easily solved by applying video games and junk food?" Frank said jokingly with his mouth half-full.
"For now...sure. I'm glad I came out today."
"Great, great. That's all I wanted to hear. I'm still surprised I got you to relax for, like, more than five minutes."
He threw a knowing grin in my direction that was goofy and infectious enough for me to start my own
"Ha, maybe this could be a regular thing then. I wouldn't mind at all."
Frank only stretched back into the couch and watched the stream continue on. Link was blazing through the last few dungeons of Ocarina of Time, the chat was happily discussing personal rankings of the various Zelda titles, and I truly did relax — for at least five minutes.
Whatever zen I had found earlier, I just couldn't get back into it. Maybe it was my need to talk to Monika alone, both her sudden jealous reaction and Natsuki's strange out–of–the–blue warning on my mind. Maybe it was something simpler, like the beginnings of a long stomachache from all the processed junk I had just feasted on. Whatever it was, I felt a burning need to get back up and moving, and so I said an unobtrusive goodbye to Frank and Natuski after just two hours at their weekend kickback. I couldn't bring myself to procrastinate further. With Monika in my life, there was always something more important I could be focusing on.
Author's Notes:
Well, I finally went and read a little about DDLC+, and immediately stumbled across the role Metaverse Enterprise Solutions plays in the story — or rather, the story behind the story. A sinister corporation that produces simulated universes and experiments on their inhabitants? Shadowy figures with the end goal of discovering whether this reality is itself a type of simulation? I can see why many readers immediately started shouting at me to take a look at DDLC+ after I published chapter 10.
All the same, I think a corporation exploiting simulated personalities in the blind pursuit of profit is a more realistic possibility, and for that reason it makes for a scarier, more interesting story. But if anyone asks, tell them I totally predicted the themes that DDLC+ would explore before it was ever released.
I promise I'm not a member of team Salvato, really. Otherwise, I'd hint at what project Libitina is already. Dan, you're still a ridiculous tease.