I absolutely love coffee, you know? In fact, I’m probably addicted to it. I can’t go a single day without downing a whole mug of it, or else I’ll end up with a pounding headache. So, as soon as I woke up a few hours ago, I made myself a steaming cup of that magical elixir.
But let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like the gentle bitterness of a good cup of coffee. That’s why I can’t take people seriously when they claim to enjoy coffee but then drown it in sugar or milk until it loses all its flavour. It just leaves a nasty, pasty aftertaste that parches your throat. I mean, come on! If you don’t genuinely like coffee, just say so. I’m cool with tea or milk too, no biggie. I couldn’t care less about those silly hot beverage wars or whatever the Brits like to bicker about. Speaking of the Brits, yeah, I can’t stand them. But hey, that’s common sense. They ruined my country and caused harm to people I cared about.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not racist because I hate everyone else too. In fact, I despise the people of my homeland just as much because they’re a bunch of colossal idiots. But enough about that, it’s not relevant right now. So here I am, sipping my coffee in blissful silence while watching the latest episode of a popular anime on my computer.
To be honest, the show isn’t all that interesting, so I keep myself entertained by playing games on my phone and regularly checking the pesky red blinking dot on the top left of the screen. The artificial light from all these screens reflects off my oversized glasses, and I sit here in perfect comfort with my legs crossed on the desk chair, a cosy blanket draped over my shoulders. No one would ever guess that just a few minutes ago, I was toiling away like a maniac.
Not a peep escapes my noise-cancelling headphones, and if it weren’t for my batshit crazy roommate, our neighbours might assume this place is uninhabited. Ugh, how boring. These soulless, mass-produced anime shows are all the same, without exception. It’s a rarity to find a good one these days, you know?
Anyway, I grow tired of this particular series, so I close the player and delete the episode, declaring it 'dropped' on my list. I’ll give it a generous 5/10 rating because it wasn’t terribly bad, but it definitely wasn’t worth my precious time. And then, onto the next one I go.
Ah, now this one seems promising. It grabs my attention right from the start. What the hell...? It’s been ages since I’ve felt this excited about a new anime. The music is fantastic—it’s from one of my favourite composers—and the direction is top-notch too. And would you look at that, the plot and characters are already well developed in just the first episode! That unexpected twist in the middle puts a wide grin on my face and gets my adrenaline pumping.
“This time, I’ll make sure he didn’t—DING DONG—miss anything.”
What the actual...? Who the hell is ringing our doorbell at this ungodly hour? Just when things were getting intense in the episode! Schwa better not have forgotten or misplaced her keys… Right...?
Annoyed and feeling robbed of the climax of the episode, I hit the pause button a few minutes before the end and trudge over to the front door.
DING DONG!
I grab a stool and stand on it, peering through the peephole…
EPISODE 3: HIDEOUT
“Hello! Is anyone there?” I ring the doorbell for the third time, growing impatient, when the door finally, slowly, opens.
“Ah, finally, I was afraid I had the wrong address!” I say, using my foot to push the door open as I balance the weight of the old man on my back. “A boy…” I remark, stepping into the pitch-black apartment.
Finally, the door opens, revealing a young boy in pyjamas with dark skin and white hair, his bright blue eyes fixed on me.
“So what? Follow me to the basement.” The boy’s little legs quickly disappear into the darkness.
I can’t help but gush over how cute he looks with his big glasses, headphones, and pyjamas. His cheeky tone and serious demeanour make me smile and blush, and I’m tempted to hug him and carry him around.
“YOU’RE SO CUTE! WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” I exclaim, running after him, but he promptly tells me to be quiet and not to run, considering the injured man I’m carrying. Yet, he insists we don’t have much time, urging me to hurry to the basement.
He’s so serious, but it only adds to his cuteness. “Uhuhu, don’t worry, my dear. My back is as comfortable as the gods’ sofas on Mount Olympus!” I tease playfully.
“Don’t call me that. My name is Abhi,” he retorts, clearly not amused.
“Oh, that’s a cute name. Where does it come from?” I ask, pushing his buttons.
“Shut up,” he replies curtly, unaware that I have no intention of heeding his request.
As we pass through an ordinary-looking living room with an open kitchen, I spot a workshop illuminated by the glow of television and computer screens. My excitement peaks when I notice a new anime playing. “Oh, is that the new anime… ‘Mecha Dinosaur Impact?’ Wow, you’re watching it too? It’s so cool, I love it! It’s refreshingly different from all the other anime airing right now. You know, in the manga, there’s this part where the MC says…”
“DON’T SPOIL ME, YOU SUBHUMAN!” Abhi interjects, his voice filled with frustration.
“Eh, no need to cry. I didn’t want to spoil anything important,” I reply, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m not crying! Come here,” he says, leading me to the next door, which opens to reveal a wooden staircase.
I struggle to maintain my balance as I carefully descend with the old man on my back.
“This feels like a superhero’s lair. Are we going to the Batcave?” I wonder aloud, my excitement building.
“No,” Abhi responds simply, dashing my hopes.
Though it may not be the Batcave, it’s still quite impressive.
Past a laundry room, there’s a reinforced door concealed behind a curtain of drying clothes. The excessive security measures include an 8-digit code and handprints, though I can’t help but think the panties were unnecessary.
“What the hell...?” I exclaim in awe as I step into the Alibaba Cave.
The walls are adorned with an array of weapons, boxes filled with ammunition, and a decapitated training dummy riddled with bullet holes.
In the centre of the basement lies an immaculate operating table, complete with professional lights and equipment.
It’s clear that this place is perfectly designed to serve as a hideout for people like us.
The basement spans an impressive 50 metres in width and 2 metres in height, illuminated by a row of neon lights on the ceiling. Various unexplored rooms beckon me to investigate.
Not wasting any time, Abhi dons an oversized white blouse and instructs me to place the old man in a designated area.
He skilfully cuts the air with scissors and deftly handles a scalpel.
For a brief moment, I find him incredibly cool, resisting the urge to carry him.
With his oversized blouse and serious expression, he easily earns the title of the cutest boy in the world.
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