Chapter 9: Do I care?
Yusciel shifted her gaze to the tall man seated across from her at the table. “So, what are your thoughts?” She focused intently, tuning out the background chatter of nearby conversation.
Eternity seemed to crawl by as Yusciel waited for Joseph to tear his gaze away from the holographic document in front of him. Despite her familiarity with such fraught conversation, her numb fingers dug deep into the donut plushie, pinching its soft fabric until she could feel her cold flesh stretching taut. She watched his silent, motionless figure as he pored over the 67-pages document. His brow was furrowed, arms crossed tightly as he rubbed his chin in deep contemplation.
However—seeing no changes in his expression, she seized the moment to sit up straight and contest to his height. Reaching for the last slice of Loshoul Ve Cheesy Prima Pizza on the plate littered with crumbs, she took a slow, satisfying bit, savoring the stretch of cheese with each chew.
Yusciel remarked, ‘So cheesy,’ as she pulled the slice away from her mouth, with stringy cheese trailing from her lips. She carefully cleaned it with a single swipe of her tongue. Setting down the slice, she picked up the cup filled with lime lemonade. Just then, Lexine’s figure appeared at the corner of her eye, seemingly busy with her terminal before catching Yusciel’s fleeting glance.
“Yusciel?” She muttered, asking, “Would you like more?”
Yusciel silently shook her head, gulping down the bits of cheese and waiting for the remaining flavor to fade.
Lexine added, “I’m going to get some dessert, anything you want?”
“Later…” Yusciel replied.
Turning to Joseph, Lexine continued, “How about you, Sir?”
He waved his hands in response. Lexine nodded quietly, and murmured, “alrighty then,” before selecting two more meal items from the display. Yusciel’s eyebrow twitched as her eyes fell on the four plates once filled with various foods now empty, stacked one on top of another. While drinking the lime lemonade, she couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Where does all that food go in that slim body?’
Then, Yusciel noticed bulky arms coming into her line of sight, and followed them to see Joseph returning her wrist terminal to her side of the table. He remarked, “It’s a bit too ambiguous. In that dystopian-themed setting, where you propose you want to challenge the main character’s morality, it’s not something many readers would enjoy.”
Curiously, Yusciel tilted her head and inquired, “Is this similar to the one we worked on before?”
Joseph straightened his posture and responded, “If you’re referring to Call of the Kins, then yes. But in today’s popular entertainment, at least in this country, most popular works revolve around the conflict between good and evil. Your proposed story has more moral ambiguity, which may not sell as well or gain popularity as you hope.”
Yusciel sighed, “I thought so…” as she reached for the wrist terminal, switching it off. However, before she could put it on her wrist, her vision caught Lexine raising her hands and whispering, “Can I read it?”
“Sure—it’s only a draft of prologue and chapter 1, with the remaining 7 pages being proposal plans, so if you don’t want to read spoilers, don’t read past the end of chapter 1… Also, it’s not something you’d really enjoy reading.” Yusciel warned, activating the terminal with her thumb, generating a holographic window before offering it to Lexine.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read it,” countered Lexine, “I’ve read your Call of the Kins before. It’s not really my taste; I’m not a fan of the gore-horror-esque aspect, and it just feels weird.”
Yusciel furrowed her brow, asking, “What specifically?”
Lexine hummed, taking the wrist terminal. “How can I put this… The focus on survival and merging into a collective mind-like entity where they communicate through thought and blood—”
“They evolved into a species that can interact with wave signals and establish their own unique communication wavelength,” Yusciel interrupted, clarifying, “eventually evolving into a collective hive mind…”
“Yeah, that,” Lexine replied, wincing at the memory as her hands gestured frantically. “But in return, individual thoughts don’t really have the freedom to think otherwise. They’re simply driven by the desire to survive. So, in the middle-esque of the story, where Sanqueno was forced to become immobile by five individuals imposing that ‘thought’ on him—It’s just… that’s very much betrayal, isn't it? If Sanqueno had willingly chosen to sacrifice himself, then I would see things differently. But he didn’t! And still though, does he really have to die there? When he really did, they seemed ‘contented’, believing it was the ‘right’ choice.”
“That’s the main point,” Yusciel asserted firmly, leaning forward and resting her chin on her palms. Her black eyes dimmed, darkening as they fell upon the table, seemingly her usual empty minded self. Yet, she continued, explaining, “When a civilization is pushed to the corner of their universe by foreign alien forms, many things are bound to change.”
She paused, her brow furrowed as she bit her lip, her head dropping before her thin hands. After a moment, she swallowed, her voice strained as she continued, “Ultimately, they will strive to resist, to adapt, and to evolve—no matter the sacrifices required. It doesn’t matter how many trillions of bodies are buried, one upon another. It doesn’t matter how many resources from the stars are collected, or if their so-called ‘Gods’ meant to protect their world, become the recipe for survival.”
Her voice trembled, “Even if they become unrecognizable beings from their former selves, it doesn’t matter. Because… if survival is the ultimate goal—Even if one remains, the goal is to survive.”
The table fell silent suddenly, a strange haze washing over everything. A cold numbness seeped through Yusciel’s body as she held her breath, trying to steady her composure. Her surroundings blurred and the sounds became incoherent, static filling her ears, as she thought, ‘For that… I must continue.’
After a brief pause, Yusciel lifted her head slowly, feeling as though time had stopped then started again, bringing her senses back into focus. She first noticed the heavy air around the table, silent and awkward. Her eyes came forward to see Joseph’s eyes wide with surprise and Lexine’s worried expression; her trembling lips opened and closed repeatedly as if trying to speak words stuck in her throat. Yusciel’s inner thoughts echoed, ‘I have no need of your pity, nor your sympathy… After all… I…’
Yusciel’s lips suddenly stretched into a grin, a smile that looked familiar on her face as she remarked, “Something along those lines?”
Lexine’s eyes widened, her mouth fell open as she uttered, “What?”
“Acting,” Yusciel smirked, “I was just getting into character from Sanqueno's perspective. Pretty convincing, don’t you think?”
Lexine struggled to find words before finally clearing her throat. “Yeah, you really did. I thought… For a moment I thought you really were like, one of the people that actually survived world-ending events like that. You had me worried for a moment.”
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“I have to agree,” Joseph added, massaging his temples, “Your choice of words, your tone, your acting—everything sounds very convincing.”
Yusciel responded with a smile that was difficult to interpret, neither clearly happy nor sad. She continued, "Joseph, please continue. We don’t have all day. And Lexine, if you have any questions about the proposal, hold onto them. I don’t want to answer anything until I have everything written down, alright?"
Lexine quietly nodded in response. “I was thinking about that too,” Joseph commented, adjusting his posture as his gaze landed on Yusciel, who slouched back onto the sofa, stretching her petite frame. He continued, “Do you remember when I messaged you about the sales of the copies of your work, ‘Call of the Kins’?”
“Yeah, you mentioned something about the old man, right? And you suggested introducing the work to other influential figures, like the princess, the duke, or that, uh, rocky band singer?” Yusciel replied, gesturing her fingers to a count, struggling to recall any of their names. “to increase the demand for the excess copies we produced—Oh, that reminds me, we really should minimize our production volume this time around.”
Joseph’s brow furrowed. “Those were the factors that contributed to our barely profitable outcomes. If you had given a bit more effort to promote ‘Call of the Kins’ to your acquaintances, the sales wouldn’t be that bad.”
“Yeah… But I will have you know that I am a proud, asocial individual, Joseph. I am incapable of listening to people who speak more than four sentences at twice the speed of an average person,” Yusciel said, offering an apathetic smile.
“But—I will have to remind you, that it was only thanks to the director’s recommendation to the Emperor about your work—which he found intriguing by the way,” Joseph replied, “thanks to him, it saved us from our losses.”
“That chicken, bald-headed old man—finds the work ‘intriguing’? Color me surprised.”
“PFFT!!” Out of nowhere, Lexine spat out the liquid that came into view while they were talking, barely missing Joseph’s sides and splashing the floor. “What the fuck,” Lexine cursed, grinning slyly.
Joseph immediately grabbed a tissue nearby to offer it to Lexine, He continued, “Yusciel… Isn’t that a bit too much? I know you view the Emperor unfavorably, but that is outright racist.”
Yusciel shrugged, “Do I care?”
Joseph sighed wearily. “Since you have zero interest in promoting your work, let’s consider a different approach that you might like—this time, let’s consider selling the work in other locations,” he suggested, but Yusciel remained impassive on her sofa, her gaze remained fixed. “Specifically targeting Land-dwelling humans and Tritons at the Bordersea as our potential customers…”
“Uh-huh.” Yusciel murmured, whispering, “Shipping cost—”
Joseph quickly interjected, “Wanderland will cover the shipping, and among other things.”
“So, still the same, huh. But do the people living below the island actually read these types of books?” Yusciel asked, adjusting herself to rest her head on a raised hand, laying horizontally on the sofa.
“Before the Director recommended your work to the Emperor, most of the sales came from the people who live below the isle. They appreciate moral ambiguity, unlike Elderans who prefer stories with clear sides,” Joseph elaborated.
Lexine’s voice reached, barely audible to Yusciel’s ear. “Huh? Now that you said that, you’re not wrong.”
Yusciel, intrigued, hummed, “Hmm, how many copies do you think we should make this time?”
Joseph paused before replying, “Let’s go for 100k copies… If you prefer a more careful approach, we can lower it to 60k copies.”
Yusciel nodded thoughtfully, “Hmm… I expected it to be worse.”
Joseph scoffed. “After all, you have a dedicated fanbase. Perhaps you and the Director should consider promoting it to someone famous, someone like the Emperor.”
Yusciel grimaced, “That fucking bald man?” She exclaimed, a look of disgust contorting her face as she let out a heavy sigh of revulsion. “Urgh, I really have no interest in maximizing profit. Let’s leave things as they are. I just want to write this out. You do you, I’ll do me.”
“Well, even if you sa—”
“Joseph, Joseph.” Yusciel lazily interjected, waving her hand, “Do I need to say more? If Wanderland doesn’t turn a profit, I’ll buy all the copies. Wanderland will permit the individual, Yusciel Loxciana, to sell the copies of her work in Wanderland franchising shops and agree to split 50% of the sales. Oh, and don’t even bring Mr. Celton into this—I just want to write.” Yusciel warned sternly, pulling herself up from the sunken sofa and reaching her cold, diluted drink.
He responded with a defeated sigh, commenting, “Quite the brute force… Alright, I won’t, I won’t. I’ll give the details to your assistant once you finish writing.”
While listening to his words, Yusciel took the chance to sip on the cold liquid, grimacing at diluted taste sliding down her throat. She swallowed and asked, “By the way, where exactly is Flusterwald Academy located? Do we have any offices nearby?”
Joseph paused, furrowing his brow as he looked around, massaging his chin. “Flusterwald Academy is on the Ground.” He said finally, muttering, “Near Flusterwald, huh… I believe we do have a merchandise store in the area, but no studio facilities. Why did you ask?”
Yusciel sighed, hugging her legs. “Well, that’s disappointing. What about the Bordersea? Is there a branch close to Flusterwald?”
“We do have one there,” Joseph replied, “but unfortunately, it’s a five-day journey from Flusterwald on a Cruiser. Why?”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Yusciel planted her face in her knee. After a moment, she tilted her head to look at Joseph’s confused eyes. “Why do you ask?” He calmly inquired, “I could explore the possibility of establishing a business venture if you’re interested in having an office nearby.”
“It’s not that important, really.” Yusciel said, peeking her eyes, “I just thought it would be convenient to have a studio nearby. But I’ll probably get a ship instead—don’t know if that is allowed though.”
A loud vibration emanated from Joseph's wrist terminal, immediately grabbing Yusciel's attention as she perked up from behind her knees. Before, out of nowhere, a piercing, echoing static rang out, overpowering even the loudest noise in the room, before slowly fading as the lounge fell silent. Everyone's attention was drawn to the broadcaster.
“This is Captain Noel speaking,” The voice announced. “We will be arriving at the Grand Capital ship of Wanderland in approximately 20 minutes. The noon rain has cleared up, and windows have been maintained by the best of cleaners. If you are free, I recommend taking a look outside and enjoy the scenic skies for the majesty Grand capital of Wanderland ship in its aftermath wetness. That is all. Captain Noel out.”
With the transmission ended, the lounge’s bustle of various activities gradually resumed. Yusciel turned her gaze toward Joseph, who had his holographic display open and appeared fully occupied, gesturing in the air as if tapping on an invisible keyboard.
Seeing such, Yusciel rose from her sofa, stretching her stiff body as satisfying bone cracking echoed to wake up. “I’ll freshen up and prepare myself.” She said.
Joseph nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll come with you!” Lexine piped up, standing up in hurry.
Yusciel shot her a sharp look. “Why?”
Lexine shrank back slightly. “Is that not allowed?”
“I’m going to my private quarters—my room.” She emphasized.
“Oh, okaay,” Lexine drawled, toning in a disappointed voice as she lazily slumped back on the sofa..
Yusciel extended her hand, silently requesting her wrist terminal with a gesture. Lexine retrieved it from the desk and carefully placed it on Yusciel's palm.
Yusciel deactivated the display and donned her wrist terminal as she strode down the aisle, exchanging silent waves with those who greeted her along the way. Exiting the lounge, she found herself in a well-lit circular corridor, its metallic white walls illuminated by the ceiling light stretching to the end.
Her footsteps echoed, mingling with the ambient sounds of passerby. Though greeted warmly, she offered only wordless waving gestures in return as her mind preoccupied with thoughts. Passing through the corridor, she arrived at a balcony overlooking the shared spaces of the ground and third floors. As she navigated around the place, the odd contrast of metal and polished stone surfaces caught her eye, blending in an aesthetic that was both strange and pleasing.
Her feet led her to another circular pathway until she finally arrived in front of the room she sought—the rectangular doorway that slid open with a wave of her wrist terminal at the panel beside the frame.
Tapping a black panel on the other side activated the lighting, and she entered her room—clean, organized, and undisturbed at first glance. Besides the entrance was another door that led to the bathroom, but she proceeded further into the main room, where she was greeted by the familiar sight of her personal space.
To the left, a large bed with an open canopy, while walls ahead had slitted curtains drawn closed that covered the window. On her right, a desk paired with a chair and a large mirror display was arranged—a desk filled with various cosmetics that she rarely used.
A sense of relief washed over her as she sighed softly, setting down on the bedside and kicking off her heavy boots beside the bed. Just then, a familiar voice rang out, singing a soft melody from the surroundings. Yusciel immediately turned to see Nemneseia seated in the chair that faced the mirror and desk, her body and legs wrapped around the backrest as she smiled, continuing her gentle hum.