“Ahem. Hmm~”

Turing looked helplessly at Merka, who was bent over and leaning against the bar, his face resting in his hand as he stared blankly ahead. She gave a soft hum.

“Don’t you think someone should let go?”

“If you keep clinging to me like a little baby, I won’t be able to explain what’s going on.”

At that, Merka reluctantly let go of Turing’s arm and straightened up in his seat.

He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, as if expelling all the stale air that had built up inside him.

His trip to the smoke-free zone had left his nerves wound far too tight.

“Mm… yeah. Sorry.”

“Go ahead.”

Merka rested one hand on the bar and laid the other flat on his thigh. His back was ramrod straight, but his arms seemed too relaxed to know where to go.

His posture was neither proper nor natural. He looked like a boy visiting a bar for the first time, a little ill at ease, yet trying his best to hide it.

He gave an awkward smile and lightly scratched his cheek.

Sitting beside Turing, dressed so seductively and elegantly, he didn’t feel like he was on a date with a girl a few years younger than him. It felt more like he was on a date with a younger, more innocent Oedipus. The feeling was just like being summoned before a princess destined to ascend the throne as emperor—how could he not be, well, completely intimidated?

Fortunately, this girl loved him, and he loved her. Heaven and earth bore witness; the sun and moon stood proof.

He had plenty of time to get used to this feeling…

At least, that was what he thought for now.

“How should I put this…”

Turing tilted her head as if troubled, resting a fingertip by her lips and tapping lightly.

“First of all, I’m your fiancée, Turing, of course. I’m not some phantom.”

“And this is an illusion created by that machine outside.”

“There’s no one here, and no animals. Plants are the only living things left.”

“This illusion recreates the real world of the 1970s down to the last detail. I looked through some books earlier, and it seems the laboratory was first completed in 1970.”

“One day here is only ten seconds in the outside world.”

“I came in a few seconds before you… so I’ve already spent a day in this illusion… I’ve more or less figured out some of the rules of this world.”

Turing went behind the bar and brought out a cute little round wooden stool.

She rose onto her toes and stepped up onto the stool, raising herself until her waist was level with the bar.

Then, with practiced ease, she took a shot glass from beneath the bar, weighed it in her hand like a professional bartender, and set it on the counter. She took a piece of ice from the freezer, carved it into a sphere, dropped it into the glass, and poured in a full serving of whiskey.

She slid the whiskey with ice toward Merka and continued in an unhurried voice.

“In the day before you arrived, I more or less figured out what kind of place this is.”

“You can explore the mountains and rivers, hunt animals and catch fish, and enjoy all the conveniences of modern civilization without paying a cent… There’s so much delicious food, you couldn’t eat it all if you tried.”

“You can think of it as a game world that’s been taken offline.”

Turing smiled as she rested both elbows on the bar, watching Merka drink with a sweet look in her eyes.

“A game… world?”

Merka repeated Turing’s words, confused.

“That’s right. A multiplayer game world, where people can play together. You’re so well-read, darling. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I think Prometheus brought this machine from the outside world, probably when he was a professor at the laboratory.”

“It seems to be some kind of machine for playing games in the outside world. It can connect people’s dreams, and even control all kinds of details in those dreams with incredible precision, making everything feel just like the real world…”

Turing blinked softly, tracing a finger along the bar.

“How could that be…? In 1970, with the technology they had back then… how could they possibly have built something like this?”

“Even now—no, even a hundred years in the future, we might not be able to build one.”

Merka asked in disbelief.

“No, Merka.”

“The outside world has been hiding its true capabilities from Acadia.”

“This game’s illusion was created with a dream-inducing drug developed using backdrop as its foundation.”

“Acadia has had foreign spies here for a long time. They used the scraps of information about ancient technology that leaked from our country… and rapidly developed all kinds of advanced technology far beyond its time.”

“This machine, for example.”

Turing shook her head at Merka, straightened up, and stood from the bar. Then she leaned one leg against its base to rest.

“……I see.”

Merka mulled over Turing’s words, gently swirling the remaining liquor in his glass before tipping his head back and draining it.

“Mmm, that’s good.”

“This isn’t a bar from our country. The drinks go down a lot easier than the ones back home…”

Merka finished his drink.

He glanced at the bottle Turing had set aside. The writing on it was completely unfamiliar to him.

“It’s Italian, darling.”

Seeing how satisfied Merka looked, Turing smiled sweetly.

“You’re so clever. Want to guess where we are?”

“Would you like to come outside the bar with me and have a look?”