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I find myself on the crowded streets of New York, a reporter struggling to keep her job. Will I be able to handle the upcoming interviews?
Info[]
- Style: No dress up component
- Event Logs: New York City, Metropolitan Hospital, Bureau of Prohibition
- Rewards: 3,000
, 3 Reader's Coupons, Cutesy Cloche, 1 Gift Material, 1 Crafting Material
Dialogue Choices[]
No dialogue choices in this stage
Transcript[]
Expand for script.
- Someone bumps me from behind as my vision clears.
- You: Ouch! What?
- ???: Excuse me, I'm in a rush!
- A man in a grey checkered suit squeezes past me as he says this.
- Without glancing back, he melts into the crowd as it hurries into the tall building ahead.
- I would have stopped him and argued with him under normal circumstances. But now...
- You: (Where am I?)
- Thanks to my previous experiences, I'm not too shocked this time.
- You: (I must have entered a new storybook.)
- You: (As for my current identity...)
- I focus and try to search through my memories for information on this world.
- This is early twentieth-century New York City, and my current identity is—
- Elizabeth Colvin, 23, intern reporter at the Sun News.
- I'm on the way to work...and I'm about to be late...
- You: Late?!
- Before I know it, I'm rushing into the same building, my legs moving on their own.
- I board the elevator to the 25th floor after a mad sprint.
- The old-fashioned elevator slowly ascends as I'm squeezed between a group of men, unable to move.
- My feet hurt from wearing heels, a reminder that this is not a dream...
- What should I do?
- Maybe I...
- You: (These must be the Sun News offices.)
- I take a deep breath, and exit the elevator. I look at my watch.
- You: Three minutes past nine? Oh no! I'm late!
- Everyone else is preoccupied with their work, too busy to notice me.
- I crouch and attempt to sneak to my desk...
- ???: Elizabeth? Are you late again?
- It's a familiar voice, and I get a bad feeling.
- Unsurprisingly, the office staff all turn to look at me.
- A man in a grey checkered suit smirks as he approaches.
- You: (Him again! He bumped into me at the entrance!)
- I am angry, but embarrassed at the same time thanks to Elizabeth's influence.
- You: I... I'm not that late. You're too loud, Jason!
- Jason: Hahaha! Your sneaking act was pretty funny!
- You: I...
- A few busybodies watch us, waiting for some kind of drama.
- Jason: Let me guess. Did you stay up last night to edit the article that the Chief Editor rejected?
- You: I didn't.
- Jason: Oh, I forgot. That would be pointless. An article by "Truthseeker Elizabeth" is unusable even after editing.
- Anger surges in me when I hear the nickname "Truthseeker Elizabeth".
- You: Don't call me that!
- Jason: Don't you think it's a cute nickname? Truthseeker Elizabeth.
- You: Isn't it our job to report the truth? When I was in college−
- Jason: There you go again... How many times must you flaunt that you're an Imperial University graduate?
- Jason: What's the point? You're still a poor country bumpkin struggling to stay afloat in New York.
- You: That has nothing to do with my article, Jason.
- You: If you're going to keep personally attacking me like that... I won't stand for it!
- Jason: Who's being unreasonable now? Getting angry because you don't agree with an opinion.
- Jason: I've said it before. Women shouldn't be reporters. You'd be better off being a housewife.
- You: You−
- ???: Elizabeth, the Chief wants you in his office.
- A colleague interrupts our argument.
- Jason finally stops harassing me and leaves looking smug.
- You: (Is this about yesterday's article?)
- I look at the colleague who delivered the message. His expression doesn't show it, but I can sense his disdain.
- You: (I shouldn't have let Jason rile me up and goad me into an argument in the middle of the office...)
- You: Thanks. I'm on my way.
- There are five others in the Chief's office, all of them interns like me.
- Some look at me gloatingly.
- The Chief: What are you standing outside for, Elizabeth? Get in here!
- You: Yes, Chief.
- The Chief: Were you late again?
- You: Actually, I...
- You: (I can't possibly tell him I needed to find my bearings because I just entered a storybook.)
- The Chief: I don't want to hear your excuse.
- The Chief addresses everyone in the room after my scolding.
- The Chief: Frankly speaking, I don't care if you're on time.
- The Chief: But your articles better attract readers.
- The Chief: I was made Editor-in-Chief because I knew where to look for news, and I earned the boss' respect for it.
- The Chief: If you want to make it in New York, you better at the very least meet my expectations.
- The Chief looks at us sternly.
- The Chief: I have a perfect task for young reporters like you. It's an opportunity to prove yourselves.
- The Chief: New York's Metropolitan Hospital is hiding something. It would be a major scoop if we could figure out what exactly they're hiding.
- The Chief: Who wants to go investigate?
- The reporters murmur among themselves.
- Elizabeth's memories surface in my mind when I hear the words "Metropolitan Hospital".
- Metal bars, chains, leather belts, electric shocks... Countless horrifying images flash in my mind.
- This hospital isn't one that saves lives. It's a prison for the mentally ill.
- You: (it seems too dangerous. I don't want to go to such a scary place.)
- The reporters' murmurs eventually settle down.
- The Chief: Have you come to a decision?
- Mary: I'd love to go, Uncle Martin, but I'm still editing last week's article on home economics.
- The Chief: It's fine, Mary. You're new. Take your time.
- You: (She's been here four months and she's still considered new?)
- Mary: Philip has been busy with work too.
- Philip: That's right! I'm still writing the article on that gang fight!
- The Chief: Jones?
- Jones: I'm sorry, Chief. Raúl asked me to help him with the Bureau of Prohibition interview tomorrow...
- The Chief: Don't tell me you're also unavailable, Dennis.
- Dennis: Chief, I... My mom called me last night and said her illness was acting up again. I'm going back to Chicago to look after her.
- The Chief: What's the problem with all of you? You're supposed to be reporters!
- Mary: Please don't be mad, Uncle Martin. We'd be more than happy to do it otherwise, but our hands are tied.
- Philip: What about Elizabeth? She should have the time if she's done with her article.
- A chill runs down my spine when my name is mentioned.
- I look up at the Chief. He stares at me with an unreadable expression, seeming to think over Philip's suggestion.
- The Chief: Mary, Jones, and Philip all wrote fairly good articles last week.
- The Chief: Even though Dennis had to edit Mary's three times, it was ultimately passable.
- The Chief: As for Elizabeth−
- The Chief looks at me sternly.
- The Chief: You failed to submit an acceptable article even after editing it five times.
- You: That's because−
- The Chief: I don't want any excuses. There is no place for an incompetent reporter at this newspaper.
- The Chief: I'm giving you a chance.
- You: (I can't believe Philip suggested me...)
- The Chief: Do it, or don't bother coming back tomorrow.
- I don't want to do it, but...
- You: All right. I'll investigate the Metropolitan Hospital.