conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  They always got along well. I wasn’t jealous or anything. Not one bit. Why would I be, when I was Claire’s wife? Yeah! We reached the cafeteria after a few minutes of walking.
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Empty as usual."
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "This place just isn’t popular."
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  Despite my griping, the cafeteria itself was clean and spacious. Its size was comparable to college cafeterias from my past life, but the building was made of wood rather than metal and concrete, lending it a cozy ambience. The tables and chairs were well made too. The food was the only problem.
conversations.prefix: Narrator:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Excuse me, what is today’s lunch?"
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Mutton and vegetable soup, sausage, sauerkraut, and bread." The cafeteria lady replied, cold and concise—she was a well-built woman who seemed like the no-nonsense sort. That was essentially the same as the last time we ate here. The cafeteria didn’t have menus—instead, the spread depended on the day of the week, and everyone got the same thing.
conversations.prefix: Cafeteria Lady:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Two of those, please."
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Right." An unmotivated voice replied from within the kitchen. I stood behind Claire, waiting for our food.
conversations.prefix: Unmotivated voice:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "I’ll go find us a table."
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "I doubt we’ll have any trouble finding a place, given how empty it is."
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Yes, but the food being what it is, I’d like us to at least have a nice place to sit."
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "I see. Good idea." With her lunch in hand, Philine left to find a table. I followed her with my eyes, watching her choose a sunlit table by the window with a nice view.
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Here’s your food. Carry it yourself now." The cafeteria lady handed us two trays with food inelegantly plopped onto them. It hadn’t even been five minutes. I suspected they simply heated up some premade food, which was fine—restaurants precooked some of their food too. In fact, I didn’t think any restaurant in existence made everything on the spot from scratch. No, the problem was—
conversations.prefix: Cafeteria Lady:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Ngh…"
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Miss Claire, staring at it won’t make it any better. Let’s go."
conversations.prefix: Narrator:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Right…" At my nudging, we walked to the table Philine had secured.
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Shall we?" I put my hands together. "Bon appétit."
conversations.prefix: Narrator:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Bon appétit."
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Guten appetit."
conversations.prefix: Philine:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  The two put their hands together too. Moments like this really drove home that the world this game was set in had been developed by a Japanese company. If this really had been medieval Europe, they would have more likely offered a prayer before a meal. Such were the thoughts running through my mind as I started with the bread, tearing off a piece and eating it. It was hard. Low-quality wheat mixed with barley was my guess. High-quality wheat by itself would have yielded a better texture. The yeast must have gone bad too, and it lacked butter. It wasn’t inedible, but it certainly wasn’t good. And that was just the beginning. I tried the soup next. It smelled as though it had been salted too sparingly and spiced far too heavily.
conversations.prefix: Narrator: