SL Chapter 4 Finally Free
Senney had awakened. That piece of news stuck within his mind even as he made his way home. Upon reaching his home, it was still echoing within the depths of his mind. According to what he had heard, the potions that allowed people to awaken were hard to produce, in turn leading to a hike in price due to their scarcity. But, those rich enough, and with the right connections could get one of their own.
Upon opening the door, he first ignored the mess in his room to subscribe to the virtual world, coupled with the rest of the privileges, like the web. That was when he noticed a message, one delivered from his personal bank account that his salary had been deposited.
His heart fluttered at the sum he had finally managed to accumulate across his nine years after leaving university. He was now 29 years, a grown man. Yet, he hadn''t done anything yet that could make him feel a sense of accomplishment. He pitied people like Jerry. They were the kinds that rotted within the corporate machine. He would have been like them if he had lacked a goal, one driven by not just vengeance, but also the need to solve a mystery.
The accumulated sum was enough to purchase a potion, while also facilitating his needs for a solid month. If the awakening failed or something happened that prevented him from getting a potion... Those were thoughts that he banished from his mind. Failure was not an option.
He closed the holoscreen floating above his palm before taking a look at the messy room. But now wasn''t the time to solve it. The night wasn''t young by any means. Even today, the beast that was work had been breathing down his neck, prompting him to work overtime. But first, he mentally composed a resignation letter after wearing an external neural link, one which resembled a tiara. Brain implanted ones weren''t his cup of tea. There were many issues that could happen, turning him into an idiot. No matter how much they had expounded upon their safety, he had never been sold on them.
The one page document was as brief as he could make it. There were many things he wanted to add, like profanities, but ultimately, he got himself together and erased such things. They could be used against him in court, making him lose not just his last salary, but even forking out compensation. After scanning the written page almost three times, having made certain that there were no troublesome words, he mentally commanded it to be sent, right before he started undressing from his clothes. A smile lit up his features as he gazed at his attire, which he was finally going to ditch. A suit was the visual mark of a gentleman, yet it was also so restrictive, like a prison.
Finally, he laid down within the covers, with the light automatically turning off, allowing him to sink within his sleep.
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1/04/2071.
Once again, he found himself before a house, one with red tiles and a brick wall that had been plastered and painted with a white color. He had been young, maybe about 10 years, but he was watching the building burning with an unnatural flame.
"Flame spreads like a plague."
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That phrase had stuck within his mind like glue. Screams had been too loud at the time, yet that phrase was something he would never forget, not to mention the man with the dark crow shaped mask that had been standing right before him, holding a stick with that same colored flame, bringing it down upon himself, only for the nightmare to end there, with him abruptly awakening. He had lost, or sealed away the memory after that. He couldn''t dredge it no matter how much he tried. All he could remember after that was his appearance infront of a massive and tall building, which he had now come to know as something called a skyscraper.
He passed his hand over his eyes, feeling the sweat that had accumulated upon his face, even that which was drenching his sheets. If someone were to visit, they might be turned off by the stench he was certain loomed within the room. Such a stray thought served to remind him that today, he didn''t have to go back to his previous job, causing his heart to leap in excitement. If you discounted the nightmare, he felt refreshed, having slept without the worry of having to wake up early, though, that was short lived when he gazed down at his side table, showing, 6:14AM.
It looked like it was gonna take a while before his body registered the fact that he was now not required to wake early. A sigh escaped his lips when his attempt at getting sleepy failed. He was wide awake, courtesy of the nightmare.
Flames that could burn even unflammable materials... That was the power of a Spirit Lord. He had only arrived at that conclusion after years of research. It would have been easy, if the governments weren''t actively working to hide any information about such supernatural existences.
But, his search had then hit a dead end when he had tried to narrow down the culprit. Though, he had been certain that there must have been others. After all, how could he not have noticed the bizarre abilities his father had used trying to coax him into something. How could one lone Spirit Lord take down a clan filled with them? That would have been absurd!
Information about Spirit Lords, especially their powers was a closely guarded secret unless you became one yourself. That was what he had come to learn. Except his idol, Mr. Musana, who had chosen to publicize his, all the others were enigmas.
After mulling over those things, he pushed them to the side in favor of dealing with the mess that was his room. First, he picked up all the discarded snack packets, moving them into a bin right next to his door. Then, the clothes were all neatly piled into a bundle atop his bed, whether clean or unclean, before he picked up a rod, which he mentally activated, causing a blue light to be released, which started disintegrating every single microbe within the room when the light passed over.
After that, he picked up a broom and started sweeping. Brooms were still a thing here since there were still plenty of poor people like himself in the world, those that couldn''t afford better cleaning technologies. Of course, the blame didn''t solely rest upon him alone, but even the landlord. Should the city council ever choose to crack down on subpar buildings, the man would most definitely go to jail.
Finishing that, he picked up the bundle on his bed, taking even the sheets themselves, and moved towards a corner, where a compartment opened and he chugged in the entire bundle, with credits being deducted from his account automatically.
Hours had passed by the time he finished his chores. He was by the window holding an empty cup of coffee, looking out into the dark streets, lit up by holographic signs and advertisements. Above this side of the city loomed a structure high above them, with its lights akin to stars in the night sky. He had always wondered why the people didn''t build these floating buildings away from the city. There were plenty of wild lands to go around, not to mention the fact that transportation had developed to the point of facilitating easier travel.
A sigh escaped his lips before he ducked back into his room and sat by the bed, with a compartment sliding out of his side desk that held the brain for his artificial intelligence. The cup had already need discarded into a slide out dish-washer in the wall.
The tiara-like neural link was placed atop his head before he laid down upon his bare bed. His laundry bundle still hadn''t been returned, a fact that made him inwardly grumble, but he couldn''t do anything about it. Too many people lived in the building, with just a single automated laundromat to support everyone. Even with a bundle being finished in 30 minutes, which involved washing, rinsing and drying, there were still far too many tenants.
He closed his eyes and a familiar notification entered his mind, one which denoted the sum needed to be deducted from his account per hour of usage.
His vision flickered for a moment before he regained himself. He was standing within a room, on solid soil, with green shoots and grass with wandering stems obscuring a small portion of the floor. How long had he not logged in for his residence to look like this? Weeks? Though he couldn''t honestly remember well, he knew that it wouldn''t have surpassed a month.
Even some vines had started to try and creep into his little abode through the open window and door. This room he had spawned within was his residence in the virtual world, lacking even a meager table and chair. This was how most abodes looked like for those that were poor, like himself.