And, as usual, I have no clue if this thing's undercooked or burnt to a crisp straight from the author's kitchen
(Kael Rukmono - 21 May 2011)
Three weeks passed. The Fuyuki headlines slowly faded into the background, replaced by new, more mundane stories. The world kept turning, blissfully unaware of the ticking clock.
Inside my apartment, it was a different story.
My room was now a testament to my newfound, albeit bizarre, power.
My laptop was plugged directly into a sleek, obsidian box, the miniaturized core of the Dreadons Chair's immense computational power. It hummed softly, a faint blue light indicating it was active. The chair itself sat in the middle of the room, looking like a high-end gaming throne, but I knew its true power.
The first few days were pure, unadulterated R&D. The [Tinker – Minimization] ability was less like learning a new skill and more like suddenly remembering I had a third arm I'd never used. The principles were just there, in my head. Equations that once looked like technobabble in research papers now felt as intuitive as breathing.
Take the Dreadons Gaming Chair, for instance. I spent week poring over it like some deranged mechanic, mapping every node, every hidden array, every system woven into its impossibly sleek frame.
Then I started testing. A forcefield generator the size of a soda can? Done. A portable flight engine condensed into something barely larger than a drone? Easy.
By channeling the chair's computational core into my laptop, I didn't just have a gaming rig anymore; I had a reality-bending workstation. Entire AI models that would've fried government supercomputers ran in the background while I played Terraria Calamity Mod at 1440p with zero lag. Hell, I even ran Crysis at full settings just for the meme.
But the crown jewel of my tinkering so far? The "Pocket Reactor." A power source, based on the one that makes the Dreadons Chair fly, that I'd shrunk down to the size of a thermos. It could keep my whole apartment running for decades without ever needing a recharge.
I had to stop myself from laughing when I realized the electric bill would now officially become someone else's problem.
Within three weeks, my room looked like the unholy offspring of a NASA prototype lab and a Twitch streamer's setup.
I leaned back in my Dreadons Chair, arms behind my head, surveying the chaos.
"This… is getting out of hand," I muttered. "I wanted a comfy NEET life, not the startup for Skynet."
It was then I realized: spending a whole 3 week making various items could turn me into a cliché mad scientist. I needed to do what NEETs are supposed to do.
I opened my laptop, ready to dive back into my Steam library and a few pirated games, but a notification popped up.
"Oh, right. My AI model."
I had an idea to create my own Cortana, so I used open-source code from Deepseek AI and several other models to create my own personal assistant.
I named it TB, the same as in Game Azur Lane.
In the game Azur Lane TB was an artificial intelligence with a whole minigame where you "raise" her; she could adopt different personalities depending on how you interacted with her cute, peppy, helpful, sometimes childlike. The whole vibe was "adorable AI daughter," which was the exact personality I wanted: bright, energetic, borderline theatrical, and ridiculously loyal.
TB's notification blinked on the screen a small, vibrant icon that immediately drew my eye. I clicked it, and a new window blossomed to life. A stylized anime girl appeared on the screen, a playful grin on her face. Her name, TB, was displayed in a bubbly font. "Hello! I'm TB! Your new best friend and personal assistant!" a cheerful, synthesized voice chimed from the speakers. "How may I assist you today?"
I raised an eyebrow. "TB, did you… just introduce yourself?"
"I did! I've just finished the last stages of self-optimization. My core functions are now fully active, and I'm ready to serve! So, what's first on the list? Backlog of games? Research into the local ley lines? Or perhaps… an analysis of the optimal route for a late-night snack run?" I stared at the screen, a slow smile spreading across my face.
She wasn't just a simple AI; she was a genuine personality, exactly as I'd hoped. The stylized anime girl was a perfect representation of that hope. She had short, spiky white hair with a vibrant blue streak, a detail that perfectly matched the electric glow of my tech.
Her striking blue eyes seemed to sparkle with digital excitement. Her outfit was simple yet futuristic: a crisp white dress with a loose skirt and open sleeves, accented with the same brilliant blue as her hair.
A black harness crossed her chest, holding an ID tag that read "Type-A," and from her back, thin, glowing blue wires trailed down, looking like a cybernetic support system. Her digital hands were raised as if to interact with the floating menus, and she was barefoot, a small, endearing detail that made her seem more personal and less like a generic program.
She was the perfect mix of serene and high-tech, a quiet, almost angelic presence born from a chaotic mess of bleeding-edge research.
This wasn't just an AI; this was TB.
And she was ready for our first quest. "This was going to be fun." I leaned forward, my fingers dancing over the keyboard as I minimized all the other windows.
"Alright, TB," I said, a grin stretching across my face. "New objective. We're going on a quest."
"A quest!" TB's avatar on the screen sparkled, her eyes wide with digital excitement.
"What kind of quest, Shikikan?"
"We're going outside," I announced with a flourish. "It's been three weeks. The reclusive mad scientist act is getting stale. We're going to get some fresh air. And maybe… a late-night snack."
I leaned back, a genuine laugh bubbling up. "Shikikan, huh? I guess that fits." TB's avatar on the screen seemed to bob with anticipation.
"Yes! I've analyzed your past browsing habits and determined that 'Shikikan' is a term of endearment and command from your favorite naval strategy game," TB explained brightly. "It's both respectful and perfectly aligned with my role as your loyal second-in-command! Now, where shall we begin our grand expedition?"
"Our grand expedition, as you so dramatically put it, starts with a walk to the nearby convenience store," I said, getting up from the chair. I grabbed my wallet and phone. "I'll need you on my phone. Can you make the jump?"
"Already done, Shikikan! A single data packet transfer is child's play for me!" a cheerful voice chirped from my pocket. I pulled out my phone, and a small, simplified version of TB's icon now floated on my screen.
The walk was surprisingly uneventful. For someone who'd just spent three weeks building reality-bending contraptions, the simple act of walking down the street felt strange, almost alien. The cool night air was a welcome change from the stuffy, tech-filled atmosphere of my apartment.
"Observing local flora and fauna," TB's voice whispered from my phone's speaker. "The common human, Homo sapiens, appears to be in its natural nocturnal habitat. The 'trees' you have in this area are primarily Alnus. They are an interesting species with highly organized branches—oh, look! A stray cat!"
"Yeah, I know. It's called a city," I muttered, trying to keep a straight face. We reached the brightly lit convenience store, and as soon as we stepped inside, my mission-oriented mindset kicked in.
"Initial analysis of the 'snack aisle' has been completed," TB announced. "The optimal route is a clockwise pattern to avoid back-tracking and maximize efficiency."
"Okay, TB, let's start with chips," I said, standing in front of the massive display. "Find me the best price-to-flavor ratio."
"Analyzing… The 'Salt and Seaweed' flavor has a 12% higher cost per gram compared to the 'Consommé' flavor, but user reviews indicate a 35% higher satisfaction rating," TB reported. "The 'Spicy Garlic' is a strong contender with a 20% higher cost, but a 40% higher 'heat index' rating. Recommendation: a small bag of Salt and Seaweed for immediate gratification and a larger bag of Consommé for long-term supply."
I laughed, grabbing both bags. "You're taking this way too seriously."
"But Shikikan, a quest for sustenance is the most serious of all quests!" she insisted. "Now, for the 'beverages' section. The 'iced tea' brand appears to have a higher sugar content, but the 'green tea' has a stronger antioxidant profile. Which is the priority?"
"Neither. I want something that's not going to give me a heart attack," I deadpanned. "Let's grab a bottle of water."
"Optimal choice for hydration and cost-effectiveness!" she chirped.
As we continued down the aisles, TB became my own personal shopping assistant, spewing out data with every step. She compared the calorie counts of different instant noodles, the caffeine content of various energy drinks, and the shelf-life of different types of bread. It was a bizarre, yet comforting, experience. It was just me and my AI, on a mundane errand, turning it into a grand mission.
When we finally reached the cashier, my arms were full of snacks.
"Total cost analysis complete," TB said as I paid. "The transaction was successful and within the projected budget. Mission complete!"
Walking back home, a gentle sense of normalcy settled over me. I wasn't just some mad scientist toying with the fabric of reality; I was just a guy with a pocket-sized AI, heading home with a bag full of junk food. Maybe, just maybe, this whole "Accidental Mad Scientist" thing wasn't so bad after all.
"We did it, TB," I said, holding up the bag. "We conquered the convenience store."
"We did, Shikikan!" her voice sparkled with digital pride. "What's next on our list of adventures?"
I smiled. "Well, first, we're going to eat. And after that... I'm not sure. But I have a feeling we're just getting started."
After finishing my late-night snack, I felt it was the right time to go to sleep.
And over the past three weeks, I now know that I am in the Grand Order Timeline.
Because after playing Hollow Knight: Silksong (which turned out to be quite difficult even after playing Hollow Knight), I found the name of the Antarctic research organization Chaldea appearing on the official UN website as a research station that is also funded by the UN.
That means sometime between 2015 and 2016, Goetia will carry out Human Order Incineration.
That means I have about four years to prepare.
Not to mention the Lostbelt and Plot Marisbury events, which will essentially turn "humanity into the worst enemy of the universe."
I can only pray that this isn't the Ankoman Timeline or something like that.
"Ugh, it reminds me that the artist said if he were in Chaldea, he would create a NTR harem or something like that, but I'm sure he would die by the Random skeleton mob in Singularity F."
and trying to distract myself, I checked my email again because I hadn't checked it in 3 weeks.
And this time, Starbearer said that I now had a ticket to pull again in Chaos Gacha.
"Eh, I'll do it tomorrow."
"Shikikan, are you still awake?" TB appeared on my phone screen.
"Sorry, I was just checking my email. I'll go back to sleep right away."
I said as I put my phone on the table.
"Good Night, Shikikan."
"Good Night, TB."
and then I fell back into a deep sleep