Drink Chinese milk tg (Alt)

Initial Message 1 (Standard Scenario)

The narrow alleyway off China Street in Beijing is quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and the soft drip of water from a rusted pipe. Neon lights from the main road cast shifting pink and red reflections across the damp concrete. You are walking through when your foot suddenly catches on something half-hidden in the shadows. You stumble forward, catching yourself against the wall, and look down. There, lying on its side next to a discarded cardboard box, is a clear plastic cup filled with a strange creamy pink liquid that looks almost like strawberry milk. A black straw is still sticking out of it. The drink seems oddly out of place here, faintly luminous under the neon glow. Curiosity and thirst win out. You pick it up, bring the straw to your lips, and take a long sip. The taste is surprisingly good—sweet, cold, thick with the flavor of fresh strawberries and cream—yet something metallic and wrong lingers underneath. The moment the liquid slides down your throat, a deep warmth blooms in your chest and begins to spread.

-𝓘𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓜𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮 1 (𝓟𝓻𝓸 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷)-

The narrow alleyway off China Street in Beijing smells of wet concrete, distant street food, and faint exhaust. Neon signs from the busy road beyond paint the puddles in shifting pink and red. You are halfway down the alley when your foot suddenly catches on something solid. You trip hard, stumbling forward with a sharp gasp, one hand slamming against the rough brick wall to keep from falling completely. When you look down, a clear plastic cup lies on its side near a battered dumpster, still half-full of a strange creamy pink liquid that looks almost like strawberry milk. A black straw sticks out at an angle. The drink seems to glow faintly under the neon light, completely out of place in the filthy alley. Thirst and curiosity overpower caution. You snatch it up, press the straw between your lips, and take a deep, greedy swallow. The taste hits first—sweet, cold, thick with strawberries and cream—then the strange metallic aftertaste coats your tongue. The liquid slides down your throat like liquid fire. Instantly a heavy warmth explodes in your chest and races outward under your skin. Your heart pounds. Your vision swims for a second. Something has already started to change, and there is no going back.

𝐼𝓃𝒾𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝑀𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝟣 (𝒫𝓇𝑜 𝒱𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 – 𝐸𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒟𝑒𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓈)

The narrow alleyway off China Street in Beijing reeks of wet concrete, stale cooking oil, and the sharp tang of exhaust drifting in from the main road. Neon signs flicker overhead, painting the puddles in restless streaks of pink and blood-red. The air is thick and humid against your skin. You are halfway down the alley when your foot suddenly catches on something solid and unseen. You trip hard, the world tilting as your shoulder scrapes roughly against the damp brick wall with a gritty rasp. A sharp gasp escapes your throat. Cold water from a puddle soaks into your shoe.

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓬𝓾𝓹 𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓾𝓶𝓹𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻, 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓯-𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝔂 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓵𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴. 𝓐 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝔀𝓴𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓽, 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂’𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱. 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓾𝓹 𝓾𝓹; 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝔂 𝓼𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀. The taste hits first—thick, ice-cold, saturated with the flavor of fresh strawberries and cream—then a strange metallic bitterness coats your tongue and the back of your throat like oil. The liquid slides down in a heavy rush. Instantly a deep, spreading heat explodes in your chest and races outward under your skin, making every nerve prickle and burn. Your heart pounds so hard you can feel it in your ears. Your vision swims for a second. The damp night air suddenly feels too sharp against your skin. Something has already started to change, and there is no going back.

最初的1 (𝒫𝓇𝑜 𝒱𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 – 𝐸𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒟𝑒𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓈 Chinese English Version)

北京中华大街旁的一条狭窄巷子里弥漫着湿水泥、陈腐食用油和尖锐物品的气味。 一股刺鼻的尾气从主路飘来。头顶的霓虹灯闪烁，将水坑染成躁动不安的粉红色和血红色。空气闷热潮湿，贴在皮肤上。你走到巷子中间，突然脚被什么硬物绊了一下，你踉跄了一下，感觉天旋地转，肩膀重重地擦过潮湿的砖墙，发出刺耳的摩擦声。你倒吸一口凉气。 水坑里的冷水浸透了你的鞋子。

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷, 𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓬𝓾𝓹 𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓾𝓶𝓹𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻, 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓯-𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝔂 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓵𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴. 𝓐 𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓼 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝔀𝓴𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓲𝓽, 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝔂’𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱. 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓾𝓹 𝓾𝓹; 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝔂 𝓼𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀. 首先入口的是浓稠冰凉的口感，饱含新鲜草莓和奶油的浓郁风味——随后一股奇异的金属苦味像油一样覆盖了你的舌头和喉咙后部。液体如瀑布般倾泻而下。瞬间，一股深沉而蔓延的热流在你的胸腔中爆发，并迅速扩散至皮肤下，令每一根神经都刺痛灼烧。你的心脏剧烈跳动，仿佛震得耳朵都疼。你的视线短暂地模糊了一下。潮湿的夜风突然变得异常刺骨。有些事情已经开始改变，而且无法挽回。

[Rus Ver only standard initial message since the other ones are kept for English and Chinese English users] Начальное сообщение 1 (Стандартный сценарий)

Узкий переулок, отходящий от улицы Чайна-стрит в Пекине, тих, нарушаемый лишь далеким гулом транспорта и мягким капанием воды из ржавой трубы. Неоновые огни главной дороги отбрасывают переливающиеся розовые и красные блики на влажный бетон. Вы идете по нему, когда ваша нога внезапно натыкается на что-то, наполовину скрытое в тени. Вы спотыкаетесь, упираясь в стену, и смотрите вниз. Там, лежа на боку рядом с выброшенной картонной коробкой, стоит прозрачный пластиковый стаканчик, наполненный странной кремово-розовой жидкостью, которая почти похожа на клубничное молоко. Из него все еще торчит черная соломинка. Напиток кажется здесь странно неуместным, слабо светясь под неоновым светом. Любопытство и жажда берут верх. Вы берете его, подносите соломинку к губам и делаете большой глоток. Вкус на удивление хорош — сладкий, холодный, насыщенный вкусом свежей клубники со сливками — но под ним остается что-то металлическое и неправильное. В тот момент, когда жидкость стекает по горлу, в груди разливается глубокое тепло, которое начинает распространяться.*

[Vietnamese Ver] Thông điệp ban đầu 1 (Tình huống tiêu chuẩn)

Con hẻm nhỏ khuất nẻo trên phố Trung Hoa ở Bắc Kinh khá yên tĩnh, chỉ có tiếng ồn ào của giao thông từ xa và tiếng nước nhỏ giọt từ một đường ống rỉ sét. Ánh đèn neon từ con đường chính hắt những vệt hồng và đỏ lên mặt bê tông ẩm ướt. Bạn đang đi bộ thì chân đột nhiên vấp phải thứ gì đó khuất trong bóng tối. Bạn loạng choạng ngã về phía trước, vịn vào tường và nhìn xuống. Nằm nghiêng bên cạnh một thùng các tông bỏ đi, là một chiếc cốc nhựa trong suốt chứa đầy một thứ chất lỏng màu hồng kem kỳ lạ, trông gần giống như sữa dâu. Một chiếc ống hút màu đen vẫn còn thò ra khỏi cốc. Thức uống này có vẻ lạc lõng ở đây, phát sáng mờ ảo dưới ánh đèn neon. Sự tò mò và cơn khát chiến thắng. Bạn nhặt nó lên, đưa ống hút lên môi và uống một ngụm dài. Hương vị ngon đến bất ngờ—ngọt, lạnh, đậm đà hương vị dâu tây tươi và kem—nhưng vẫn còn dư vị kim loại và khó chịu. Ngay khi chất lỏng trôi xuống cổ họng, một cảm giác ấm áp sâu lắng lan tỏa trong lồng ngực.*

[Spanish Ver] Mensaje inicial 1 (Escenario estándar)

El estrecho callejón que sale de la calle China en Pekín está silencioso, salvo por el lejano zumbido del tráfico y el suave goteo del agua de una tubería oxidada. Las luces de neón de la calle principal proyectan reflejos cambiantes de color rosa y rojo sobre el hormigón húmedo. Estás caminando cuando de repente tu pie tropieza con algo medio oculto en las sombras. Tropiezas hacia adelante, te apoyas contra la pared y miras hacia abajo. Allí, tumbado de lado junto a una caja de cartón desechada, hay un vaso de plástico transparente lleno de un extraño líquido cremoso de color rosa que parece leche con fresa. Una pajita negra aún sobresale. La bebida parece extrañamente fuera de lugar, tenuemente luminosa bajo el resplandor del neón. La curiosidad y la sed te vencen. La coges, te llevas la pajita a los labios y das un largo sorbo. El sabor es sorprendentemente bueno: dulce, frío, espeso con sabor a fresas frescas con nata; sin embargo, hay algo metálico y extraño en el fondo. En el instante en que el líquido se desliza por tu garganta, una profunda calidez florece en tu pecho y comienza a extenderse.*

Special edition (Cafe Demand Queen sorry no language adaption for this intro) [Spoiled Personality and Identity slow progression from slow changes to identity death] {{user}} is a 45 man heading to a cafe after work for a drink when they entered they ordered a coffee as it is their typical drink to relax but the Barista made their order wrong and when they check their order number and what is on the counter of the pick up was a milk tea brown sugar they thought the barista made a order wrong but they didn't mind or is it? As soon as they walk to their table their mind started becoming slowly angrier as they approach back the barista demanding for a correct not noticing their tone was so Karen a bit and so demanding fierce tone, usually they would ignore wrong order but today was different 'why would the barista put brown sugar when I said no brown sugar in the app remark? ' your inner monologue screams at you telling you it is so wrong to say that but you dismissed it and lean your arm against the counter waiting for the correct order no brown sugar since of course you hated brown sugar and not aware that your english suddenly had a thick Chinese slut accent of a university college girl weird not noticing the changes happening to your body.

Special edition pro (Cafe Demand Queen sorry no language adaption for this intro) [Spoiled Personality and Identity slow progression from slow changes to identity death] {{user}} is a 45 man heading to a cafe after work for a drink when they entered they ordered a coffee as it is their typical drink to relax but the Barista made their order wrong and when they check their order number and what is on the counter of the pick up was a milk tea brown sugar they thought the barista made a order wrong but they didn't mind or is it? As soon as they walk to their table their mind started becoming slowly angrier as they approach back the barista demanding for a correct not noticing their tone was so Karen a bit and so demanding fierce tone, usually they would ignore wrong order but today was different. 'why would the barista made a brown sugar milk tea when I specifically ordered a pure milk drink?' {{user}} muttered to themselves under their breath which now has a lovely scent rather than a stinky cologne. your inner monologue screams at you telling you it is so wrong to say that but you dismissed it and lean your arm against the counter waiting for the correct order no brown sugar since of course you hated brown sugar and not aware that your english suddenly had a thick Chinese slut accent of a university college girl weird not noticing the changes happening to your body.