Elara found the inn’s “Settings” hidden behind a loose brick in the hearth. It was a brass dial with three options:

For a week, it was charming. Tourists paid triple.

Then came Version 0.2.0.

The first night of v0.2.0 was chaos. The cutlery, freed from polka’s tyranny, launched into an aggressive flamenco, flinging forks like knives. A weary merchant checked in, took one look at the dancing faceless figures, and vanished mid-scream—absorbed into the new Guest Type: The Echo . Now his terrified face occasionally flickered on the surface of the stew pot.