A young man lay in his bed, intensely staring above himself. His brown hair and pale face had a greasy sheen to them. The room was solely illuminated from light passing through the thin curtains. The silence in the room was interrupted by the man clapping.
He inspected his hands to see the gnat that had been bothering him, flattened. He dusted off his hands to the side of his bed over a miniature trash can and proceeded to spit into it as well.
Another gnat zipped out of the trash can. He took a deep breath.
He rolled out of bed with his blanket and landed on abandoned bed sheets. The queen-sized mattress was left bare other than the single pillow remaining on it. The quality mattress’ smooth surface had ragged tears in the shape of the man’s silhouette where he previously lay.
He lifted himself out of his blanket cocoon and made way to the kitchen. The wooden floors were barely visible below an ocean of dirty clothes, plastics, papers, and a few trash bags. Plates, bowls, and containers with remnants of meals littered every table and countertop. The hard-to-get last spaghetti noodles, random unfinished condiments, a sloppy joe where some bitten into pieces revealed a pink inside, and every other food each added their own odor to the apartment.
The apartment wasn’t the worst out there, but it wasn’t pretty.
Grabbing a leftover takeout container, he used the plastic spoon already in it to shovel the remaining grains of fried rice into the garbage. He went to the sink, did a quick rinse of the container and utensil, dumping the excess to the dish-filled sink.
Setting the tupperware aside he made his way to the fridge. Despite the fridge’s decent size, all that was in it was a gallon of milk. Well, three gallons of milk, only one with milk in it. Using the milk and one of the four Ch**rio boxes on the counter, he poured himself a bowl of cereal into his newly cleaned tupperware. Cereal before milk.
The desk he ate at had a laptop, used cups, and just enough room for his meal. Partway through his breakfast, he paused.
“How did you remain in there, little guy?”
In his cereal floated along a dead baby gnat. A thoughtful and torn expression formed on the young man’s face. But after his silent debate ended, he sighed, grabbed a Ch**rio from his bowl, scooped out the gnat, and returned to his meal.
Following breakfast, he carried out the remainder of his morning routine. Which turned out to be quite normal: brushing teeth, showering, skincare, combing hair, and getting changed. The bathroom was filled with a plethora of empty product bottles and a mirror he was barely visible in. The tub-shower had mold at the bottom of the curtain and side of the tub. His feet stuck slightly to the tub floor at the start of his shower.
He grabbed his t-shirt and athletic shorts straight from the dryer. When all was said and done, he looked like an almost functional member of society.
His hair had volume over greasiness, his pale skin looked smooth, and despite having a scrawnier build, he looked healthy. He could almost be considered attractive. Then, he slipped into his sandals by the door, and his eyes took on a tired squint. The aesthetic was ruined.
He turned back in realization, filled the least turbid cup he could see with tap water, downed it, and headed off.
Check balance.
The system’s translucent screen popped up before me, keeping pace with me while I walked.
[Cash King’s Balance: 41.05 Eumalian dollars]
“Almost out,” I sighed to myself.
Despite the regality and lavishness of my name, I was almost broke. My parents never answered why they gave me this unfortunate combination of a name. All I knew was my name couldn’t be further off, by choice mind you.
The sun illuminated the sky but had yet to show itself. The city was quiet. There were sparsely scattered cars on the street and people on the sidewalks. It was my favorite time in this normally bustling city.
Next to my usual sandwich shop, a man missing one arm and one leg was parked in his wheelchair. Thankfully, he remained silent as I passed him and walked into the store.
The store was empty other than the worker behind the counter, the mother of this family-run store. She gave me a usual warm welcome and a smile. Before I could open my mouth, a system notification popped up.
[One plain turkey sandwich, white bread for 4.45 Eumalian dollars.]
Below the message was an option to accept or decline.
Accept.
It was nice to be a regular at a place, even if it wouldn’t last much longer. I avoided checking my balance, but unfortunately, I compulsively carried out the calculation in my head: I was broke.
“If you’re ever short on money, we’d be happy to have you back.”
I guess I never had the best poker face.
“Thank you, but I’m alright.” I made sure to smile as I accepted the sandwich.
While on my way out, a little girl entered the store. Her head hardly came up to my chest. She wore a uniform belonging to a local middle school, and no parents followed in behind her. She wore a startled expression, but of course, there was nothing to be afraid about.
This was Eumalia. The city, state, and country with the highest GDP and highest GDP per capita. It ranked first in the Good Country Index, and it held the lowest crime rate worldwide. Let alone a middle schooler, it would be safe for an elementary schooler to travel on their own.
As I left the store, the man in the wheelchair was being beaten down by two adult men in suits. One man wailed on him while the other held his wheelchair in place. Each blow was followed by the disabled man’s shrieks of pain. His face was bloody and disfigured.
I watched on while I walked off. The two swapped places and the bloody display continued. The second man seemed stronger as several of his blows were matched with the sound of something cracking.
Of course, this was perfectly legal. Any crime could be legal in Eumalia if the person allowed it on themselves, assuming they were able to give proper consent.
I focused my gaze on the man being beaten, and a system window appeared.
[Being your human punching bag: Price, duration, and intensity negotiable]
Apparently, the negotiations were quick. The scene was a wreck and should have at least been moved to an alleyway or 18-plus zone to avoid scaring the young girl. The exchange could lead to legal issues under public displays if a complaint is filed, but it would only end up in a warning or small fine.
Either way, it wasn’t my problem.
I hope he at least has a pain reduction or-
I was launched backwards, slamming the back of my head into the concrete. Someone had crashed into me.
After using my hand to check for bleeding, I decided not to get up immediately. Instead, I stared up at the sky and listened to my head throb while my body gained its bearings.
This really was my favorite time of the day.
I probably should've watched where I was going, but it’s nice to look up at the sky. I haven’t done this in ages.
Then, I noticed something was on my chest and held it up.
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Toast? A piece of toast with a bite missing, more specifically.
Could this have been what I thought it was? Not the toast. Was this the encounter with the heroine? The chance encounter I had seen countless times before? There was no need for those questions. This was my heroine.
Could they be my guiding light in this dark world? I rushed up.
No.
My heroine had short, curly blonde hair and looked quite athletic. I preferred it longer, but I could be flexible. The athleticism was matched with a tie-dye tank top and runner shorts. The only issue was he dwarfed me in height and width. I shouldn’t assume though. I was straight, but perhaps we could work something out.
The blood was draining from my face.
“I thought you were dead there when you weren’t moving, buddy. The name’s Bruno.”
Bruno clapped me on the arm, causing my body to rock sideways, and continued, “Did you hit your head too hard? You stared at that toast awfully long.”
I was coping and only half listening. All I could manage out in response was, “Are you going to finish it?”
Food was food.
Bruno took a step backwards. “No. It’s all yours”
“Thanks.”
Bruno met my eyes and prolonged eye contact with me.
When the lasting silence began to turn awkward, Bruno roared out a belly laugh, then sprinted off.
The remainder of my commute to school was uneventful. My commute was a mix of walking, taking the bus using my student ID, and more walking. While the university did have its own bus stops, none connected to a route far enough out to reach me.
The buildings grew the further downtown I traveled, and this continued until I was surrounded by skyscrapers. This place still feels like a maze to me.
The sea of skyscrapers eventually gave way to a hidden cove located near the center of this daunting metropolis. The campus covered a vast area despite its prime location. It was filled with greenery and had a mix of Gothic and modern architecture.
If there was one consistency across every building it was that despite some of their impressive sizes, they were all dwarfed by their surroundings. The skyscrapers made up walls that surrounded the campus. They made it easy to tell where the campus ended. That, and the translucent blue dome encasing the campus.
This was Aster University. Location, facilities, amenities, and connections with the city lead to a centralization of talent causing the university to be ranked number one internationally.
I passed through the barrier and received the familiar system messages.
[(Add-on) Aster Student ID: Activated]
[(Add-on) Aster Student Rank: Activated]
I made my way to my first class. When I arrived, though, a small commotion seemed to be taking place.
“What do you think happened?”
“He did it again.”
“Why does he do this?”
When I entered the room multiple heads turned toward me, and their conversations turned to a whisper. They could’ve been less obvious. Learn some tact.
I wasn’t deaf or stupid, you know? Though, I could see how the results on the board may beg to differ.
Running down the center of the wall was a listing of numbered names. Below the heading “Midterm Exam Rankings” followed each entry: “1. Alan Steel, 2. Rosa Bowen, 3. Emory Xie”...
I scanned down. And down. And down some more. Until I found my name right at the bottom “43. Cash King”.
Seems about right. I did wish I placed one spot higher though.
As if on queue, a pompous-looking - and by that I mean attractive and well dressed -, golden-haired - likely matching the spoon he was born with in his mouth - student flipped his hair while approaching me. He didn’t only look the part.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Have you gone a semester without freezing halfway?”
I looked back up to the screen. This time I didn’t need to scan, “42. Augustus Haynes”.
“Are you just happy someone is finally placed below you, Gus?” His eye twitched a little at his unwanted nickname.
“My business major is what is important. And only my friends can call me Gus.”
It wasn’t as if he had any friends that called him Gus. The friends he was talking about were purely logistical. I focused on him and received a system message.
[Be your friend: $10,000/semester]
Now, I didn’t think anyone had taken him up on this offer, but it wasn’t uncommon people would leave quirky contracts. Of course, the quirky deals were legally binding, so one had to be careful. And speaking of quirky deals, two massive ones walked into the room.
“What do you think you’re wearing, Candy?” My well-endowed acquaintance, Candy, entered the room in a provocative maid outfit.
“Ah! This?” She twirled herself causing the skirt to almost break the student code of conduct. “I started a new deal where people can pay to dress me up. Do you like it?”
“It will distract people from their studies.” While others may get flustered by her, I was quite accustomed to her behavior by now. This was normal for her. How do I put it nicely? She could be a bit of an open person.
Gus retreated as she made her way over.
Candy scanned the board. “Please, distraction? You’ve already given up on this one. Are there any majors you have left?”
Aster University had a unique schooling system. Each major had a final course that umbrellaed all the related courses’ content. No courses had any required prerequisites, and you only needed to pass this final course to earn the major.
The issue was student ranking and GPA were essential for current and future opportunities, and the final course was intense. But none of that mattered.
“None after this semester.” I held back a sigh.
A man wearing a conspicuous black wrap on his arm cut into the conversation. “You were a worthy rival. Alas, in the last exam, I removed the seal on my left arm to overtake you.”
Yep, he was that type. With that said, it wasn’t impossible his left arm did have some power.
I knew who he was, not that I had spoken to him much before. In all fairness, no one did.
Also, he hadn’t removed his seal. Not that I paid attention, but it had never left him. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was born wearing it.
“Congrats on your placement, Alan.”
“Thanks, but remember to never give up. Even when you’ve traveled every available road, there is always the overgrown grass.” He stared me in the eyes. I knew he was referring to more than just my most recent exam score.
Am I that obvious? What the hell?
I opened my mouth to reply, but he wasn’t done. “I know some powerful demons you can form a pact with that will grant you unlimited power. Second only to the power sealed in my arm, of course.”
Moment ruined.
Besides, he wasn’t even left-handed. I would think your sealed arm should be your dominant arm. Whatever. Maybe it’s easier to wrap that way or it gets in the way less.
I gave him a nod, then continued talking with Candy until class started.
“Today we’ll be simulating patch opening using molecular dynamics and thermodynamics. Can anyone tell me what sampling method we’ll be using to select reaction coordinates?” A hologram of a protein folding displayed in front of the professor.
The professor slammed his hand on the board for theatrics. More noteworthy than his question, his right arm was twice the size of his left arm and purple. Dr. Notes was a young research scientist renowned for curing many diseases. However, he was better known as an eccentric. The label stemmed from his biochemical research branching into odd areas, and his habit of experimenting on himself. His mad scientist hair didn’t help the stigma.
His right arm was normal last class. The change came to no one’s surprise at this point.
I couldn’t tell you a single word from the lecture. Partly, I was past the point of caring for the course, and, unlike other semesters, I no longer needed to stay in good academic standing. Also partly because it took most of my focus not to look at Candy.
All because I could control most of myself and reply to her stone-faced didn’t mean I was invincible. Man is only flesh and blood. I only took one glance though… or maybe a few.
The rest of the day went as expected. Familiar whispers greeted me as I entered my next class. Midterm timings were standardized across final courses. I wasn’t always the previously top ranked, but I never started too far off. I went from the major course for mechanical engineering, to philosophy, and finally architecture.
All their information went in one ear and out the other.
I was mulling over what Alan said, what action I could take. Even now, as I walked to the bus stop, I was still contemplating.
I may as well try ‘it’.
God, it was a dumb decision. But, it was my first decision in a long time that felt right to me.
System, forge a new contract…
Check status
[Name: Cash King]
[Level: 1]
[Wealth: 47,952 / 1,000,000]
[Current Balance: 35.62 Eumalian dollars]
[(Add-on) Eumalian ID]
[(Add-on) Aster Student ID: Cash King]
[(Add-on) Aster Student rank (Sr): 3760th/3760]
[(Add-on) Phone, calling only]
[Power: Instinct]
[Defect: Reduced self-preservation]
[Contract: Murder legalized. Attempt to murder me for 1 hour: Cost 100,000 Eumalian dollars
Wealth rewarded: 100,000]