Super Rich System

Vino pressed his back against the cafeteria chair while letting out a long sigh. In front of him, the fried rice that was only half eaten had started to get cold because he was too busy talking. His eyes sparkled every time he mentioned the word "system," as if that word had its own magical power that could change the world.

"Crazy, bro. Can you imagine if we could get a system like that?" Vino said while tapping the cafeteria table with his index finger. "Like the main character in the novel I read yesterday. An ordinary person, suddenly gets a system, instantly becomes great. Can do martial arts, can do business, can do anything."

Bimo, who was sitting across from him, immediately lifted his head from his plate of jumbo portion Padang rice that was almost finished. His chubby cheeks were still full of rice when he started talking.

"If I got a system like that," Bimo said while chewing, "I would date all the girls on this campus. One by one. Then when I got bored, I would leave them. Find a new one again. Find another one. Find another one. No one would be able to reject me if I already had a system."

Vino looked at his friend with an expression that was hard to interpret, half amused and half concerned. He had known Bimo since their first year of high school, and during their more than four years of friendship, Vino had lost count of how many times Bimo had been rejected by girls. The highest record Vino remembered was three rejections in one day, and the most impressive thing was that Bimo never looked sad for more than five minutes before his eyes were already glancing at the next girl.

"You don't need a system to hit on girls, Bim," Vino said. "You're already like an automatic shooting machine. The only problem is that nothing ever hits the target."

"Damn you." Bimo laughed while putting the last spoonful into his mouth. "Better than you, Vin. Handsome face, good body, but when you meet a girl you immediately turn into a statue. I'd rather be brave but get rejected than be you who doesn't even dare to try."

Those words stung, but Vino could not argue. He was indeed like that. From the past until now, every time a girl looked at him a little longer or smiled in his direction, all he did was lower his head and walk faster as if being chased by a ghost. Even though he knew, and Bimo always reminded him, that his handsome face with a firm jaw and his athletic body made quite a few girls secretly harbor feelings for him. But they could only wait, and Vino never came.

"Bram, what about you?" Vino shifted the conversation to the figure on his left. "If you got a system, what would you do?"

Bram did not answer. His eyes were glued to his phone screen, both of his thumbs moving nimbly across the screen with unnatural speed. Occasionally his eyebrows furrowed, occasionally his lips moved without sound, cursing at the virtual opponent that neither Vino nor Bimo could see.

"Bram!" Bimo threw a pack of tissues at Bram's head.

"Huh?" Bram lifted his head for a moment, his eyes still half glued to the screen. "What?"

"If you got a system, what would you do?"

"Oh." Bram looked back down at his screen. "I only need a system that makes me never lose at playing games. Done, that's it. The rest is not important."

Vino and Bimo exchanged glances. Bram had always been like that. Among the three of them, Bram was the only one who never made a big deal about dating, not because he was not interested in girls, but because all his time and attention had been consumed by the virtual world. Vino had once calculated that in one day, Bram could spend twelve hours just playing games. Eating while playing games. Walking while playing games. Even during class earlier, Vino had glanced at Bram and found his phone screen glowing under the table.

There were actually a few girls who had liked Bram. A rich man's son, decent looking, and the mysterious aura created by his always self absorbed attitude apparently had its own appeal for some girls. But any approach from anywhere never worked because Bram was too lazy to respond. To him, replying to a girl's chat used up time that he could have used to raise his ranking.

Three friends who had equally never dated, but for completely different reasons.

The clock showed three in the afternoon when they decided to go home. Vino headed to his bicycle parked under a tree near the faculty building, while Bram walked out of the campus gate where a black sedan was already waiting. Bram's personal driver, a middle aged man in a neat uniform, immediately got out and opened the back door. Bram got in without shifting his gaze from his phone screen for even a second.

That left Bimo still standing in front of the campus gate, his thumb busy tapping on his phone screen to order an online motorcycle taxi. A minute later, a motorcycle taxi stopped in front of him. The motorcycle taxi driver, a thin man with a small build, looked Bimo up and down with eyes that slowly widened.

"Sir, are you the one who ordered?" the motorcycle taxi driver asked with a doubtful tone.

"Yes, I'm the one who ordered." Bimo was about to get on, but the motorcycle taxi driver raised his hand.

"Oh dear, sorry, Sir. I can't. My motorcycle isn't strong enough."

"What do you mean, how heavy am I?" Bimo protested, although in his heart he already knew the answer. The last scale he dared to step on showed one hundred and twelve kilograms, and that was already three months ago. He had not dared to weigh himself again since then.

The motorcycle taxi driver smiled awkwardly while shaking his head, then sped off before Bimo had a chance to argue further. Bimo grumbled while ordering the next motorcycle taxi. This time, a driver with a slightly bigger motorcycle arrived. The man also looked at Bimo with the exact same expression as the previous driver.

"Bro," Bimo said quickly before the driver could open his mouth. "I'll add five thousand. Just take me home, okay."

The motorcycle taxi driver was silent for a moment, weighing between the safety of his motorcycle's suspension and the additional five thousand rupiah. Finally, he nodded, though with an expression like someone accepting fate.

Bimo got on carefully. The motorcycle immediately sank drastically, and the motorcycle taxi driver winced holding the weight. They sped off at a pitiful speed, the motorcycle groaning in pain every time it passed over a speed bump.

Meanwhile, Vino was already halfway to his aunt's apartment. His feet pedaled the bicycle at a constant rhythm through the city streets that were starting to get congested in the late afternoon. The evening breeze hit his face and made his thoughts drift to things he usually avoided. Like Paramita.

Paramita was the girl he had liked since the second year of high school. Long hair that was always tied in a ponytail, a smile that showed a dimple on the left side, and a laugh that sounded like the most beautiful melody Vino had ever heard. But for more than two years, Vino had never dared to talk to her beyond saying "excuse me" when they passed each other in the school corridor. Now they were no longer on the same campus, but Vino knew Paramita lived in an area not too far from his aunt's apartment. Sometimes, when riding his bicycle past the street in front of Paramita's housing complex, Vino would slow down and secretly hope that the girl happened to be standing in front of her house. Of course, even if that miracle happened, Vino knew he would only pedal faster and pretend not to see.

Arriving at the apartment, Vino parked his bicycle in the underground parking area then took the elevator to the ninth floor. In the corridor, he ran into Mr. Tono, his neighbor on the same floor, a friendly man in his fifties who always greeted anyone he crossed paths with.

"Back from college, Vin?" greeted Mr. Tono with a smile.

"Yes, Sir." Vino returned his smile. "Are you heading out?"

"Just going to buy cigarettes real quick." Mr. Tono patted Vino's shoulder before walking toward the elevator. "Study hard, okay."

Vino nodded then entered his aunt's apartment. The room was quiet because his aunt was still at the office and would only come home around six in the evening. He threw his bag onto the sofa, took drinking water from the fridge, then went into his room. His body immediately collapsed onto the bed. His eyes stared at the plain white ceiling of the room while his thoughts still wandered between the novel about the system he had just read and the image of Paramita's face that had long been stored in the corner of his heart.

'If I really got a system,' he thought while closing his eyes, 'maybe I would have the courage to talk to Mita. At least talk. No need to confess yet. Just talk first.'

He smiled at his own thought, feeling both funny and pathetic at the same time. Slowly, drowsiness began to creep in and his eyelids grew heavier.

Right when his consciousness was about to sink into sleep, a sound was heard.

Not a sound from outside. Not the sound of the television forgotten to be turned off or a phone notification. The sound was heard directly inside his head, as if someone was speaking right at the center of his brain. The voice was mechanical, flat, and without emotion, like the voice of a GPS navigation system but clearer and more authoritative.

"Congratulations. You have been selected as the host of the Solid System. Please confirm the binding to activate all system functions."