Yaaawn!

  Melani Here...,

  Wow… this is the first time I’ve slept this soundly, even though it wasn’t in my own bed.

  The room I’m staying in is truly amazing—luxurious and comfortable.

  Amazing! Because this is obviously another world!

  Luxurious, because everything is available here. Clothes, shoes, and bags that match my taste are all neatly arranged in the wardrobe. Completely stocked!

  Well… except for internet, radio, phones, and television of course.

  Comfortable! Because my dream bathroom is here. I can even take a flower bath! Hehehe.

  And this bed—this bed is unbelievably soft! I fell asleep instantly!

  When I woke up this morning, I felt totally refreshed.

  Super comfortable, that’s what it is.

  Speaking of this room, I actually learned quite a lot yesterday.

  First, people here don’t gain weight. Eat as much as you want! Hahaha.

  Ahem. Alright, serious now. This next one is really serious.

  Second, there’s no need to go to the bathroom anymore.

  When I first heard that, my reaction was: What?! Seriously? I still only half believe it… but apparently it’s true.

  Third, curfew. The transition from day to night starts at 7:30 PM. And only then did I realize—there’s no sun in the sky here. Ew.

  Fourth, when curfew arrives, all the food buildings stop functioning. Then a bright light appears in the “city center”, coming from a giant cake-shaped castle surrounded by gates. That’s where everyone goes.

  The blonde girl said people come there every night to rest.

  At first I thought, Rest in a castle? Sounds pretty nice.

  Turns out I misunderstood.

  Wow… those gates actually transported me here.

  Yep. Exactly.

  To this super comfortable room.

  Fifth—sorry, I’m jumping around—the gates bring everyone to the center of a huge dome containing eight doors. The blonde girl invited me into one of the corridors.

  Apparently we’re free to choose any door along that corridor.

  The hallway was dark, and honestly I was too lazy to walk far. Sure, I used to train with the infantry team back then, but lazy is still lazy.

  So I just opened the first door I saw.

  And voilà.

  Ta-da.

  Here I am.

  Sixth… hmm… what was the sixth point again?

  Ah, never mind for now.

  All these reports are stored in my third phone, and journal number two. Of course, journal number one is my personal diary!

  Don’t worry.

  Everything is encrypted.

  Totally safe.

  ...

  Anyway, this morning’s plan is to explore the Asian food district. The blonde girl—Michaela—asked me to act as the guide and help find interesting foods.

  Apparently she’s been here for more than two months (she stopped counting) and still hasn’t explored everything.

  Alright then.

  Main mission: gather information.

  Mandatory side mission: eat while doing it.

  I tied up my short hair, put on a white long-sleeve shirt, dark blue jeans, and orange sneakers. I also brought a backpack and a crossbody bag.

  Perfect.

  6:30 AM.

  Breakfast time.

  ...

  I had arranged to meet Michaela in front of a building we both recognized—the burger building.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  As expected, she arrived earlier than me.

  Not surprising. She’s a food addict.

  Morning should be perfect for something warm and soupy since the air is still cold. But the weather here ruins the beauty of mornings—it already feels like midday at this hour.

  Oh well.

  Apparently when we enter the food buildings, we can eat inside under ideal conditions.

  Alone, unfortunately.

  Aww.

  Still, this time I’m taking Michaela to one of my favorite breakfast dishes.

  “Heya, Michaela. Been waiting long? Who did you bring this time?”

  “Hey Mel, I just got here. Let me introduce you—this is Audrey and Winna from Australia, Rifda from the United Arab Emirates, and the others you’ve already met. They’re curious about trying food from your region.”

  “Hi! I’m Mel, nice to meet you all. So… how do we find the building we’re looking for?”

  “Easy.”

  This time Sherly—my new friend from yesterday—answered.

  “Just imagine the food you want to eat. As detailed as possible. Then you’ll know where the building is.”

  “Wow. Is it really that simple? How does that even work?”

  I closed my eyes.

  Semarang soto.

  Rice. The broth. Sweet soy sauce. Crackers. Rice vermicelli. Cabbage. Chili paste.

  Ahhh… delicious.

  My assignment in Semarang wasn’t wasted after all.

  Soon, an image of the Semarang soto building appeared in my mind. And just like that, I knew exactly where it was.

  Nice.

  “Come on, follow me! Let’s get breakfast! Oh—how did you know this trick, Sherly?”

  “Wipe the drool first, Mel. I’m curious what kind of food you’re about to show us,” Michaela interrupted.

  “Hahaha!”

  Most of them laughed. The rest just smiled when they saw me wiping my mouth.

  Hmph. Just wait. Your faces will look the same soon.

  “The early arrivals told us about this technique,” Audrey explained. She had started blending in after seeing my ridiculous reaction earlier.

  “It’s actually used to create new food buildings. But if the building already exists, you’ll simply receive directions to it—like pizza, burgers, kebabs, hot dogs, and other international foods.”

  “Ahh, if only drinks existed here too,” I sighed. “But well… this plain water is refreshing enough.”

  They laughed again.

  Aww.

  ...

  All day long I took them around to try various Indonesian foods.

  Pukis. Bikang. Pempek. Padang cuisine. Sambal lalap. Geprek. Several types of soto.

  I told them this was only a tiny fraction of the food in my country.

  Tomorrow I promised them another surprise.

  Traditional market snacks.

  While carrying out our culinary mission, I observed the people around us.

  From my assessment, most people here were food enthusiasts.

  Okay fine.

  Food addicts.

  Their eyes sparkled whenever they talked about food or pointed toward it.

  But there were also a few who looked… different.

  Some seemed confused.

  Some looked like they were searching for something.

  Some appeared to have just arrived and ignored all the food completely.

  And some looked strangely relieved to be here.

  All of them would definitely go into my evening report.

  Sometimes lights appeared in certain areas.

  According to Michaela, that happens when someone successfully creates a new food building—like what I had done earlier.

  Naturally, I got curious about what kind of foods people were creating.

  So we went to take a look.

  I saw someone standing with eyes closed while several others watched.

  Light began to appear.

  Audrey and I moved closer.

  “Hey, what food are you making?”

  I tapped his shoulder while asking.

  He looked Asian, so I spoke in Indonesian.

  “@#￡&@￠$.”

  Oops. Didn’t understand.

  I switched to English.

  “Kao mok gai. Thai food.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  No idea what that is. I’ll try it later.

  I dragged my group to line up for kao mok gai.

  We continued wandering, discovering more new foods.

  “Hey, what food are you making?”

  “Pastilla.”

  Sounds delicious.

  “Dovi.”

  Nice.

  “Pashka.”

  Alright.

  “Cazuela.”

  Looks good.

  “Shirako.”

  Blergh. Better just eat without asking.

  “Mendoan.”

  Huh? That sounds familiar.

  “Indonesia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, this is the first time I’ve met someone from Indonesia. Wait… maybe not. Most people here speak English when chatting.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey Andi, have you finished? Let us try it first. Sorry beautiful lady—first come, first serve.”

  Apparently one of the spectators was his friend.

  Oops.

  “I’m sorry. Okay, no problem.”

  “So, mendoan? I’ve heard of it but never tried it. From Java?”

  “Yup.”

  He talks so little.

  “Michaela, want some?”

  Alright. Let’s get acquainted. Another information source.

  My group and I tried the food.

  “Andi, sore wa tempeh desu ne?”

  Hmm?

  Andi was chatting with his friends. He seemed pretty fluent in Japanese… and what language was that? Some tribal language? Latin American? African?

  Out of curiosity, I tried something.

  Rifda was from the UAE, right?

  Maybe she could speak that language.

  I whispered to her that I wanted to introduce myself to him in Arabic.

  And wow—she actually helped me smoothly.

  Na’am, na’am? Really?

  “He said okay, Mel. Love at first sight?” Rifda teased.

  “Thanks, Rifda. No, I’m just curious.”

  I started asking him about the food—where it came from, whether he could cook it, its variations, when it’s best eaten, and so on.

  His eyes didn’t sparkle like everyone else’s.

  He answered calmly.

  But sometimes… he looked nostalgic.

  Strange.

  You’re definitely going into my evening report too.

  Hahaha.

  ...

  The sky turned yellow… then red… then dark.

  Night lights illuminated the buildings.

  It was beautiful—like looking at dishes carefully arranged in a display window.

  Andi and I were still standing there watching crowds enter the cake castle.

  Our friends teased us.

  “Have fun!”

  Bah!

  I told them I was just happy to meet someone from the same country.

  We talked for a while.

  Apparently he had just arrived today.

  He didn’t know much about what happened here at night, so I told him about the long lines and the ridiculously comfortable rooms.

  His reaction was funny.

  He told me that last night he had slept in a desert.

  Andika seemed a bit stiff at first, but once he relaxed he talked quite a lot.

  Mostly about pizza.

  Pizza, pizza, and more pizza.

  He looked cheerful like most people here.

  But when I asked about the mendoan he created, his expression suddenly turned melancholic.

  I quickly changed the topic to avoid awkwardness.

  “So… how did you end up here?” I asked while eating mendoan and pizza.

  “Two days ago, I was in the elevator at my office. I had a strange feeling. When the elevator doors opened… I was already in another world.”

  Two days ago?

  He said he just arrived today.

  Elevator. Office. Sounds like he’s an office worker.

  A desert?

  There’s no desert here.

  Where exactly did he sleep?

  Something in his story doesn’t match.

  I’ll dig deeper later.

  “Well, I was alone in my room imagining different kinds of food. I felt something too. When I opened the door… I arrived here. Hehe. My dream came true—there’s so much food I want here.”

  “And the best part? Eating a lot doesn’t make me gain weight.”

  “You can eat your favorite pizza forever.”

  Alright. Time to use my technique.

  Build familiarity through something he likes.

  Mirror some gestures.

  Keep the conversation open.

  Then throw in a contrasting hook.

  Perfect.

  “I don’t want to stay here forever.”

  His expression darkened.

  “I’m looking for a way home.”

  “I was dragged into this world by accident.”

  Gotcha.