Chapter 8: Her Royal Gluttony, First of Her Name

Dreams are soft and full of promise—like clouds painted across a summer sky.

Reality? Reality has bones. Sharp ones.

Beneath a weathered overpass, where the night wind hardly bothered to pass, Kyren laid out a flattened cardboard box like a makeshift futon. He had found it tucked away in the corner behind a vending machine, clean enough to serve as his bed for the night.

"Grumble... grrrrumble..."

The moment he sat down, his stomach let out a low, drawn-out protest.

He glanced down, resting a hand on his abdomen, which felt noticeably more hollow than usual. His lips curled into a dry, helpless smile.

Without an ID, without a home, he was a ghost in this world—a person who didn't officially exist. Ever since he left Otonokizaka Academy, Kyren had been wandering the streets nearby, trying to land a simple day job.

A janitor, a stock boy, a gofer—he wasn't picky. Anything that didn't require reading Japanese. Speaking it was fine—thanks to the gift of a "language pack" downloaded from the interdimensional group chat—but reading? That was still a cruel joke.

Unfortunately, most part-time gigs needed at least some literacy, and even the humblest odd jobs required an ID.

And that's where the trouble began.

Kyren had what people kindly referred to as a "baby face," the kind that made cashiers ask for ID when buying bubblegum. During interviews, employers would eye him suspiciously.

"Are you even old enough to work?"

"How old are you really? We don't hire minors."

He'd hand over his documents—well, back when he had them. People would still squint, skeptical. It wasn't malice; it was his face. Kyren's features belonged to an ageless boy caught between childhood and adolescence.

If he ever decided to lean into the look, toss on a sailor uniform and pout a little, he could probably make a fortune as a "legal shota" on the internet. But Kyren wasn't that bold. Mostly, he just hid indoors whenever he could.

So here he was: no job, no ID, no home.

Still, despite their doubts, the shop owners hadn't kicked him out. Not exactly. Some had looked at him with soft eyes, sighing through their noses.

"Did you run away from home, sweetheart?"

"Ah, don't be stubborn. Go back and apologize. Your parents will forgive you, you'll see."

Others had offered help with a worried frown.

"Do you need us to call someone? Maybe the police?"

One kind shopkeeper had even pulled out his phone. At first, Kyren had just stood there, too confused to react—until he heard the man speak into the receiver.

"Hello, officer? Yes, I have a lost child here. Poor thing looks like he's been kicked out by his parents. Could you come and—"

Kyren didn't wait to hear the rest. He bolted.

Police? Absolutely not. The last thing he needed was to get caught and sent back—back to a place that didn't exist in this world. Back to nowhere.

And so, his first full day in this strange, familiar place came to an end.

The moon hung high, silver and full. Somewhere above him, the soft patter of footsteps echoed across the bridge. Office workers headed home, chatting idly about which izakaya to visit, what drink to order, or whether they had any coupons left.

Down below, Kyren sat curled on his box-bed, trying not to shiver.

Though it was technically summer, the breeze that rolled in from the nearby river was cool and damp, curling around his thin shirt like a ghost's breath. His shoulders trembled slightly.

Cold.

With a sigh, he pulled his knees to his chest and fished his last remaining comfort from his pocket—a battered Xiaomi smartphone. It was the only object that had traveled with him across dimensions, the last tether to the life he once knew.

He tapped into the group chat. The last message was still his reply to Kotori Minami. The chat had gone quiet since then. Unsure of what to say next, he scrolled up, rereading earlier messages.

"Huh… so the group's daily check-ins give different rewards."

A while back, Luo Tianyi had discovered the sign-in feature. Her first reward was a spin at the "Lucky Roulette," and she'd proudly posted a screenshot. Unsurprisingly, most of it consisted of vague motivational quotes. But the real prizes—those were tangible.

Unlike Kyren, who desperately hoped for sheet music from Love Live!, Luo Tianyi had scored something far more suited to her... culinary inclinations.

Snacks. Loads of them.

And the grand prize? An entire imperial banquet.

Kyren could almost hear the divine choir singing behind her smug screenshot.

For someone like Tianyi, a self-professed food lover, it was the jackpot of jackpots.

Her "lucky draw" had landed her a plate of authentic Chongqing spicy chicken—red, crispy, and glistening with chili oil.

Then came the photo.

Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, lips slightly parted as she bit into another peppery morsel, eyes closed in pure bliss. The caption?

"Best. Chicken. Ever."

Kagamine Rin, perhaps out of jealousy—or pure hangry spite—had responded immediately:

"Tianyi-chan, you're doing that face again. We're no longer friends."

Tianyi, with mock sorrow, replied:

"Aw… and I was just about to mail you some of our local specialties. Too bad." 😔

To which Rin instantly backpedaled with the speed of a character in a slapstick anime:

"Wait wait! I was kidding! Don't be mad!"

Kyren blinked. Since when did Rin have such a food-driven side?

Was he imagining things? Had the hunger made him delusional?

Apparently not.

Rin doubled down moments later:

"Tianyi-chan, promise me you won't forget! Luka and Miku saw it too—you all heard her, right? Witnesses!"

Tianyi, ever the smug empress of snacks, simply replied:

"I always keep my promises. And Rin-chan, let me tell you—this batch of spicy chicken? It's better than anything I've ever eaten. The flavor hits your tongue and just… explodes. I couldn't stop. Heaven in every bite."

Kyren's eyes glazed over as he scrolled. His stomach felt like it was performing acrobatics.

Then came Rin's reply:

"STOP. If you keep describing it, I swear I'll teleport over and steal it from you."

Same, Rin. Same.

The image—the juicy chicken, the blissful expression on Tianyi's face—it wasn't just mouthwatering. It was cruel. Torture, really.

And then... an idea sparked.

If Tianyi could upload digital files, like her Idol Training Manual, into the group chat... could she upload food?

It sounded insane. But considering the chat had literally teleported him into another world, what wasn't possible anymore?

He typed slowly.

"Calling Her Gluttonous Majesty, Luo Tianyi."

Yeah… probably not the most tactful way to address her. He wasn't sure what to call her, honestly. Fans had a dozen nicknames, but using one directly to her face felt presumptuous.

Still, he remembered Luka and Miku once calling her that title—"Her Royal Gluttony"—so it felt safe. Ish.

Barely three seconds passed before she responded:

"Oh! It's the Group Owner. What's up?"

Then, almost like a footnote:

"Also, just call me Luo Tianyi. Or Tianyi-chan, like the others. If you must, Tianyi-neesan is okay too... but never Tianyi-imouto. And please, that whole 'Gluttonous Majesty' title? Makes me feel weird."

...You want a 22-year-old guy to call a 15-year-old girl "big sister"?

He nearly laughed aloud.

Behind the food obsession… was she a secret onee-san type too?

His stomach growled again, louder this time. Kyren shook his head, smiling despite himself.

This world was weird. But at least, somehow, it still made him feel… a little less alone.

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