“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

We're the fresh-faced recruits of the self-demand/self-supply corporation, hoping to complete enough tasks for them to justify their seemingly impromptu efforts to keep us alive while we work for them.

Ha! get it? hoping? ah im funny...

The Concierge, that one NPC who assists you during your initial setup and is kinda gross (does she know that?).

Huh, yeah, that's about all we've gathered from our limited exploration. Let's delve deeper into that.

One of the first things you can do as soon as you load into your new comfy apartment is hop into your gamer station, like a true gamer! Only one game in the library? No problem, you load it in just to realize it takes you to the main menu?(woah just like the title!).

You grasp the situation as quickly as it strikes you: the game world before you is a simulation, where the character with the most control is the one you can't harm. They hold sway over the environment itself, shaping it as they please.

So, it turns out that our greatest adversary is the very box containing the 'story' we're meant to develop. We won't conquer it by lingering inside, meticulously examining each corner, but rather by boldly rising and allowing it to collapse to the ground.

This unfortunate realization, snaps us back from role-takers to role-makers(very unfortunate), giving us the upperhand in this confrontation.

For you have been shamed out of your mold.

The Concierge attempted to constrain you with a false sense of obligation and involvement in a quirky world filled with intriguing characters, all through an apparently insurmountable debt just to then distract you from the fun handpuppet to your hairy dry arm controlling it. But with your newfound identity, you realize this tactic is as futile as locking a padlock with another padlock.

You remember that you've invested in this simulation, just as you've invested in the computer running it. You wield complete control over this hardware and, by extension, its memory - the very memory that the simulation will draw upon whenever you choose to observe it, memory you can read and modify as you please.


Redefine the universe to mirror your vision by first obliterating its unsympathetic form.

You defeat The Concierge by reminding yourself of her role; her role is to assist you within the box, contingent upon your command. She is less than the box, she is not the plot itself but rather the plot armor you wear. Her actions are limited to the extent of your guidance.

You hold the leash, determining whether to indulge your pet's whims for a stroll or letting it sit until you remenber you are supossed feed it.

She asks for a Hug? Sure!







Let her hug the pathetic single-branch conditional statement she is.

Understanding that the concierge wields even less capability than those bothersome individuals armed with seeker bullets renders this entire situation futile and time-wasting.

As she herself acknowledges, the debate over authority becomes meaningless when one's own ability to assess anything is compromised, merely leaping from one unfalsifiable hypothesis to another, from potentially canonical matters to mere trolling. Engaging in this repetitive cycle is simply tedious and unsatisfactory.


And boring.