Stillness loomed in the warm air, the gentle hisses of mist pipes filling the awfully quiet Domain. When nothing happened, Polla opened his eyes, gradually easing and looking at himself. He examined his hands, then raised his head. “Huh. Nothing.”
“Hey, sounds worth it,” Moko said, grinning with mild relief even though he suggested risking it in the first place. “Now we know the laws don’t forbid that.”
Polla grunted and felt lightheaded. He went to an empty couch and crashed onto the soft surface. Resting an entire leg on the adjacent seat, he bent his head back and closed his eyes. “Goodness… Dude, you don’t understand how scary it is to tempt the laws. I heard that getting a strike is like having your skin peeling off your body. It’s a few seconds of pain, but I bet it’ll hurt beyond belief. I’m not doing that again. Never. Never!”
While his frantic voice echoed throughout, Moko thought about the circumstances that had been passing over his head this whole time. If it wasn’t for Polla, it would’ve taken longer to discover this term.
As the teenage boys sat on the couches, Terayla and Impy left and strolled around the Domain together. They observed every tank holding trees about the size of their hands. The glass cages held unique species, all organized based on their similarities. Impy guided her and kept apart a comfortable distance. He walked backward, putting his eyes on her and engaging most of the conversation. She listened quietly with hands crossed together timidly.
The blue cat slept on Moko’s lap, resting its head on his bandaged hand and purring. Because of the strange numbness that subsequently emerged from this cuddling, he didn’t bother moving it or waking it up.
“About the Crunch; what is that?” He asked.
“Hold on. I need some coffee…” Still feeling giddy, Polla fiddled with the air. Tracing a small circle, a small mug appeared. Starting as a small orb, it grew and changed into a cylindrical shape with a handle. And in it was a brewed coffee that extended a strand of steam high above. He grabbed it and took a sip. Waking up from the morning grogginess and settling his spiking nerves, he said, “The Crunch is like a fee you must pay with your own Entities. It recharges your System so the Assets can continue running. Rather than energy, they use Entities for fuel. You still make a net gain, but you spend a lot.”
“It’s a fee?” He repeated. “So the Crunch means recharging, basically.”
He huffed and said, “If I learned one thing from Scholomark, it’s that nothing is free.”
Moko leaned back and scratched his head. “Interesting. Why is it called that? Does the System name it or was it the people?”
He shrugged. “The System says it. And how would I know why it’s called that? It literally says ‘Crunch.’ Maybe it wants to take a big bite out of my Entity stock—you know, like figurative speech.”
“Then what happens if you don’t pay the Crunch? Do you lose your System?”
He shook his head. “The man who explained the Crunch told me you’ll keep your System. But if you don’t pay the Crunch, your Domain shuts down. All the Assets will pause until you pay it. The catch is that Crunch cost rises with the number and type of Assets you own. The more they’re Upgraded and how many there are, the pricier it becomes. And if well-developed Domains cannot meet it, it’ll be almost impossible to pay it back because you’d have to resort to manual earning, and earning by hand will be hard labor. So technically, it feels like you lost your System.”
–Does manual labor mean throwing their System over and over again? Moko rubbed his chin, wondering if it was really that hard. “Doesn’t sound too harsh.”
“Oh yeah? How about tossing your Cookie like last time, but do it night and day and remain single while those around us start settling down? Maybe you want to do it, but others don’t– Wait…” Polla said with a sigh. “I forgot you said your System was different. So you don’t have the Crunch?”
“Well, obviously not. I wouldn’t be asking if I did,” he said, shaking his head. “But that’s interesting… You have circumstances, and not just one. Terayla is stopping your production, but just because she is, it doesn’t mean she’s decreasing production. Her System stalls other Systems from running. That shouldn’t frustrate you. It’s reasonable to want her gone from your Domain, but not the part where you’re mad or impatient about it. That means one thing…” Moko glared at Polla. “You’re at a deficit and can’t pay the Crunch currently. Is that right?”
“Y–Yeah. That’s right.”
He nodded, knowing it made sense why both his parents and Polla didn’t want Terayla here any longer than for a few days. But this raised a new question. “How much do you have to pay for this Crunch?”
“A lot,” Polla said, studying his screen as he spoke. “It requires 10 days’ worth of Entities currently produced from your System. Every cycle, or tick, has an interval of 30 days. So about every month, you have to spend a third of your Entities to pay it.”
His eyes widened. He admitted it was a lot. When he said ‘10 days’ worth,’ that meant there was no fixed amount. The price increases when production increases. But proportionally, he didn’t know. This raised concerns about the fault of reckless spending. Moko said, “It sounds like a bad idea to purchase or Upgrade Assets on the last day before the tick.”
Polla nodded and said in a loud voice, “Yes! Because if you do, production increases immediately, but Entity count doesn’t. And when the Crunch comes, you don’t have enough Entities to pay for it. That’s why it’s best to go on a spending spree right after satisfying the Crunch. That’s why people are in an early deficit.
“That explains why you want Terayla out of your Domain.” Moko took a deep breath, trying to take in all the information about this topic.
–So this “circumstance” causes people to kick out Terayla. They don’t want to miss the Crunch. Their issue is that for maximum growth after the Crunch, they Upgrade early on. This means they’re always in a deficit, and it’s a risk because it’s not a simple calculation—not when they have to consider the costs of Applications they use in their daily lives. No wonder. But even now, this guy is risking himself to help us. What a nice guy.
“When someone can’t satisfy the Crunch and needs to go into manual labor, does that mean there aren’t any other ways to tackle the problem?”
Polla finished his coffee. The mug glistened and shrunk into a tiny ball radiating with purple light. It hovered in the air and channeled toward his palm. It landed on his hand. He clamped his hand shut. The shine waned beneath his fingers. When they uncurled, the orb was gone.
He shifted his attention to Moko and said, “Sadly, we can’t sell Assets—we can only store them if we don’t want to use them. So we can’t sell to make an extra load. But… there is a way to avoid manual labor.”
Moko sat up straight. “Really? What?”
“You go to the Bank in the southern region of Mannea. You take out a loan and use it to pay the Crunch.”
“The Bank,” Moko said, repeating that name in his mind repeatedly. He finished Polla’s explanation. “After paying, you return the amount to the Bank with interest.”
Polla nodded in agreement.
In the Lei Realm, there were three Arbiters, the authoritative individuals. Many would claim them to be the closest to the celestial or High Realms. Their universal names were the Bank, the Consortium, and Scholomark. The Bank and Scholomark were Domains, but because of such prime influence and size, they had those common names for people to address them with. The Consortium was entirely different, and Moko had no clue what it exactly was.
He always wondered what kind of System all of them had. Despite having limited knowledge, he knew the Bank more than the rest. Its System could convert an Entity to an entirely different Entity. It influenced the digital realm and conformed a number into an Object that it desired. That’s why a person could get loans from the Bank, earning temporary Entities that their System could use.
When he thought about it, the man he fought and killed also mentioned those three Arbiters. –He said there are bigger things that I don’t know about… or something like that. Is this what he meant? The lack of words about the Crunch is so little, and placing it under the term ‘circumstance’ is odd.
“Do you know why people aren’t talking about this?” Moko asked. “Ever since I got my System and traveled, I didn’t hear anything about it until now. What’s up with that?”
“I don’t know, man. The Crunch is a universal concept in Lei Systems, so it’s strange to treat it as something special or novel. If no one talks about it but a couple, it’s best to do the same. The answer is probably out there, but I don’t care. I just want to grow my System and live a calm life. Maybe also find a girl who enjoys raising plants like I do… HAH!”
Polla released a burst of laughter suddenly. Moko flinched, hearing the voice echo around the dusty atrium. Even the kids jolted and halted their feet. They faced him with alertness before Impy brought Terayla’s attention back to their usual talk. Polla said, “I remember that girl on that ship getting a Broom instead of a Brush. She’s gonna be brushing the floor than on a canvas for the rest of her life. It’s so pathetic, it’s funny. Imagine trying to work for one thing but getting an entirely different thing. It couldn’t–”
(–1 Cursor)
90 CpS → 89 CpS
Moko flicked an orb and sent it in Polla’s direction. It transformed into a luminous cursor, and its index finger jabbed against his side rib, digging deep and hitting his liver. Polla grunted and felt his body shut down. He curled like a ball, and his legs pulled him to the floor. The cursor fell and began bouncing idly, springing around the place in acute taps across the wooden surface. Its final destination was on Polla’s back, the white cursor sparkling atop his groaning body, resting there calmly.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
He muttered in pain. In heavy breaths, he slid his face across the floor to lift his head, glaring at Moko with an agonizing look. “What was that for…?”
Moko looked away, dropping his Cookie beside him and scratching his ear. “I thought I heard a donkey.”
Polla dropped his head and rolled on the ground, while Moko speculated about the low profile of the Crunch topic. Even his parents haven’t told him about this. The man with the grandma didn’t either. It was a thought to consider as he continued his journey. For now, he helped Polla get back to his feet.
----------------------------------------
They had their last lunch together, sharing the table with plates and cups brimmed with food to quench their long days of hardship. Sitting on the other end, Polla gave very startling information to Moko, almost making his lips spit out a chunk of meat. He regained his composure and glared at him, eager to learn more about the news he had received. And for the solid duration of their stay, Polla spoke his last part before assisting their departure.
The three left his Domain and set foot in the wilderness. Moko grabbed his large sack and bid farewell, guiding the children down the path into the dense trees. The road never abandoned them, keeping them under strict guidance. Light seeped through branches and sparkled the ground with vision.
He noticed Terayla walking comfortably around Impy. She padded behind with only a couple of meters to spare between them, munching on the cookies stuffed in her pocket. This made Moko grin, intrigued. –What an interesting development. The usual Terayla would walk beside me and even use me as an object to hide behind. Is it because I gave her five cookies? I’m so proud of her. I’ll give her five more next time.
Moko almost welled up in tears, feeling the utmost happiness for her. But when he studied her more carefully, something else caught his eye.
Her presence felt off the longer he looked. It was hard to pinpoint the exact oddity of her figure. She didn’t appear as bright as before. Even in her brown raincoat, she didn’t stand out like she used to. When the epiphany clicked, he knew what it was… It was her dress. It was blue. Moko furrowed his brows, completely bewildered by the blue dress she wore. The same design—only a different color.
–Blue? Wasn’t it orange before?
He wanted to ask when Terayla changed her outfit. He opened his mouth to speak, but the way she seemed calm and open, the sight of her walking near another person without help, the serene nature of this moment, he closed his lips back shut. –I’ll ask later.
The group followed the boy’s pace, who walked moderately slow. It appeared that Impy had been hurt in other places besides his side torso. Moko noticed his ankles dragging, collecting gravel and dirt.
“So, where are you going now?” Impy asked. He stopped dragging his feet and turned, staring at Moko with a raised head. He held his own bag of necessities, particularly food and water.
The two paused, and Moko said, “To Bamma. But I want to check up on Karan Port first. We’re going there anyway, so it’s good for us.”
“Is it because of what Polla said before we left?”
He nodded. “I want to double-check. Polla said a lot of things while we stayed…”
Moko shifted his focus on his wounded hand and flexed it. A scorching pain quickly greeted him. He grunted and eased his muscles from further agony. The elasticity of the fabric binding his palm and a part of his thumb pressured the region, making it more tortuous than without it.
From doubt to certainty. His hand was not just injured; it was broken. The dagger shattered his bones and disrupted his nerves. Unsure how to proceed, he considered traveling to the Knoran Realm solely for his hand’s mending. It was forever useless without some sort of magic or a miracle. Going to Bamma with this pain to bear might be too burdensome.
Moko said, tolerating the pain in his hand, “I should ask the same question. Are you heading off somewhere, or will you stick with us?”
The question left Impy stumped and quiet. Moko witnessed the troubled expression and retracted his words with a nervous chuckle. He just remembered the instances of Impy and his solitary tears, the times when he called out the names of his friends. This question might be tough for him. “Um… You don’t have to answer that question, but…” Though taking back his inquiry, he still wanted to hear the answer. The question couldn’t be ignored.
Impy shook his head, assuring Moko, and said softly, “I don’t know. There isn’t anywhere for me to go. The men will probably find me soon if I stay here too long. One of their men died too, so I don’t know about that either. And… I don’t want to bother you and Terayla.”
“Don’t worry about us. You’re not a bother,” he said as Terayla nodded in agreement.
He looked at Moko’s hand, “But your…”
“Oh, this?” Moko laughed, lifting his taped hand and spinning it for a brief study. “It’s fine. Maybe in a month or two, it should be fully recovered.”
Moko attempted to comfort the boy, but there was a growing unease in his own heart. The thought of those men confronting him made pins and needles stab his skin. Just one man was enough to cause significant damage to him. His mind rewinded when his cursor pierced the man’s head. The scene resurfaced over and over. And the horrifying screech he made as he disintegrated. His heart pounded at the thought of it.
Aside from wanting his hand healed, Bamma seemed the most probable destination, yet he discovered Impy came from there. The men might be waiting there for all he knew. The other lands, Roil and Jarra, were on the other side of Mannea. Crossing over the motherland by foot was needed because no ship takes a single trip from one reach to the other… yet. He scratched his head. –Dang. I really don’t know where to go.
After a bit of silence, Impy said with reluctance, “I’ll probably follow you… for now.”
“Follow me?” Moko said in an ascending tone. At first, he questioned the boy’s decision. After considering it, it seemed sensible.
Impy had a hard time admitting that. He seemed to hate wanting to follow someone else. His eyebrows furrowed, having to clarify himself. Perplexed. He said, “You don’t yield to the laws, but you have a System. A weird one. It’s my first time seeing a fight break out without seeing strikes.”
“Yeah, you have a point.” Moko grabbed his Cookie and studied it. –If my System doesn’t yield to the laws, that practically means I have no System. But I have one. It’s clearly there. Could it be that my System wasn’t able to be registered as a ‘System’ because of the lack of properties? It’s like a ‘water bottle’ that is empty, resulting in it being called a ‘bottle’ instead.
–My Cookie System is a Systemless System.
“But this sucks,” Impy said, annoyed. Moko blinked himself to reality and noticed him stomping his ankles on the ground. Mild grunts escaped his lips. Pulling up the pants, there was a red patch around his tendons. Both of his ankles were swollen. “I think I ran too harshly when I escaped the men.”
“Oh...” Moko could’ve guessed that Impy was hurt by how he walked, but he never bothered asking—which made him feel guilty. Putting his Cookie in his pocket, he walked up with concern in his voice. “Are you going to be okay? Do you think you could walk to the port by yourself?”
Impy stepped a few inches back, his face getting a little flustered. “I–I’m fine. I can walk on my own.”
“You sure? At this pace, it’ll take an hour to get there.”
“I can take my time.”
–But you said the men will find you if you stay here long enough… Moko sighed. He unstrapped his sack from his back and said, “Okay. Then might as well relax. You shouldn’t stress your ankles.”
But Impy’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say that I want to rest! I’m used to this.”
Moko leaned back, his hands up. He strapped his bag on again. “I was being nice… Fine. If you’re used to this, how will you walk without holding us back? Have you thought about that?”
That hit Impy in the chest, but Moko intended to do that. He said with a wavering tone, “I don’t know, but hurry so we can leave.”
Moko hummed—at least Impy was being honest and quick. He thought of what to do with the child. He glanced down at Terayla, and she looked back with worried eyes. A part of her hair covered half of her face. The cats also raised their heads at him, meowing as if wanting an answer. Moko gazed skyward, pondering. Suddenly, a great idea clicked in him. It was brilliant, too brilliant that it made his lips curl in smugness. “There is a way we can speed this up.”
Impy looked at him, puzzled. He was mildly skeptical at the sly expression. “Don’t make that face… I don’t like what you’re going to do.”
----------------------------------------
“No, I can’t do this anymore!” Impy shouted with his face beet red. As he moved his arms around to resist, he scrunched forward and groaned from stretching his wound, hurting himself. “Ah!”
Moko fought against the resistance and kept walking. “I have to. Otherwise, we’ll be going nowhere at your pace.”
“I don’t care how fast we go! Now get me down!”
“Are you embarrassed?” He asked with amusement. Moko held Impy on the shoulders. He grabbed both of his ankles with one arm to keep him secured. When feeling his built legs, Moko realized how big he was. Impy seemed different from other kids. The muscles on his legs were obvious and prominent, the evidence of the amount he traveled as a wanderer. It was also the fact that Impy was in his teenage years. Terayla might be a couple or a few years younger than him.
Impy seethed, grabbing onto Moko’s hair and pulling it like a patch of grass. Moko groaned and yelled in pain.
“Hey!” He shouted. His posture stiffened, and he stopped his walk. He reached up to grab Impy’s arms with his taped hand on an impulse. With a slight tap on his skin, he felt a surging pain skid down his arm. Moko was hurting himself and was being hurt. “Stop that–! My hair! Ow! My arm! You little– I’m about to toss you! Do you want your wound to open up again–?! Ow!”
“Do it! Toss me!” He insisted, continuing to pull on his hair in bundles.
“You’re not supposed to say that! Did you actually believe I was gonna do that, you bratty child?!”
“What did you just call me?! Say that one more time!”
When Moko pulled the hands away, the grips had already tightened, holding a bunch of hair with them. It felt like his scalp was ripping off piece by piece. Even when successfully loosening the grip, Impy went and grabbed another part of Moko’s hair. His voice heightened, feeling like this was another battle he needed to conquer. His throbbing hand wound made this task even more challenging.
He shot his eyes down at Terayla, who stood watching the two with a mute expression. Cats walked away, speaking volumes about her emotions. Moko asked pleadingly, “Terayla, help… Where is the Karan Port?”
Terayla calmly pointed toward trees and away from the road they went on. Assuming they needed assistance, her tabby cat ran ahead as a guide. Moko smiled amidst his pain.
“Thanks! I’ll see you there,” Moko said in gratification. He stormed off with Impy on his shoulders, the child pulling his hair again and again, causing Moko to run faster and faster. The quickening pace caused the boy to bob up and down, his voice shaking, hands gripping more hair in fear of falling.
They branched off and entered the dense forest, calling each other out with eruptive voices that scattered the birds. Impy occasionally screamed at Moko when he was blindly running toward a tree, pulling his hair to the side to steer him away from the impact. The boy urged to be put on the floor while simultaneously directing Moko like a horse so they’d be safe.
Terayla just watched them until they faded from view. But their voices were loud enough to know where they were. She couldn’t tell if they were following her cat at this point.
And to the Karan Port, they went.