Unlimited Transaction System

Hell Is Reality

The smile on my face hadn't faded since this afternoon. Inside the damp pocket of my courier jacket, still wet from the rain, my fingers kept brushing the soft surface of a small red velvet box. Inside it rested a sterling silver bracelet worth thirty dollars.

Maybe to the wealthy people of Arkadia City, thirty dollars was nothing more than loose change. But to me, Arkan, a courier who spent every day surrounded by dust and exhaust fumes, this little bracelet was a masterpiece born from sacrifice. For two full weeks, I had endured hunger, filling my stomach with nothing but cold water so I could save my meal money. The joy burning in my chest grew even stronger after the unexpected surprise I received this afternoon. A generous customer had given me a bonus tip of one hundred and thirty dollars.

How could my heart not soar?

That bonus felt like the answer to every prayer I'd ever made. The entire ride home, my mind had been busy planning tonight. Next week, I could finally take Siska, the sweet woman who had stood by my side for the past two years, out for a real dinner at her favorite diner. We'd order two thick double cheeseburgers overflowing with melted cheese and rich chocolate milkshakes. Not cheap instant food eaten in my tiny rented room like always. There would even be enough left over for the down payment on a modest studio apartment next year, a place where we could build our future together. Even crazier, next month we could finally make our beach vacation happen, rent a little wooden cottage, and grill barbecue while enjoying the ocean breeze.

Just imagining the sparkle of happiness in Siska's eyes tonight erased every trace of exhaustion, the scorching afternoon sun, and the cold drizzle.

I felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Riding my old underbone motorcycle with its rattling engine, I made my way into the ultra-luxurious Jasmine Hills residential complex. Siska had texted me earlier that afternoon, saying she'd found a temporary side job as an administrative assistant at one of the mansions there and would be working late into the night.

"Block A-12..." I whispered cheerfully.

I parked my beat-up motorcycle a little farther away so it wouldn't ruin the scenery, then skipped down the path carrying a warm cheese pizza and the little red box. The quiet front gate made it easy to slip into the backyard patio unnoticed. I could already picture Siska's surprised expression, her joyful laughter, and the way she'd throw her arms around me.

But the moment I peeked through the narrow opening of the slightly ajar glass patio door, every drop of blood in my body seemed to boil before freezing solid.

The happiness that had been soaring in my chest shattered without leaving a single piece behind.

Inside, stretched across a large leather sofa, Siska was leaning affectionately against a man's chest.

She wasn't typing reports or holding paperwork.

The woman I loved more than anything was wearing a low-cut, sexy red dress I'd never seen before, clinging intimately to the man's shoulder.

That man was Brandon Dirgantara.

The sole heir to the Dirgantara Group, the massive conglomerate that owned the company where I worked.

"Brandon, stop, that tickles..." Siska giggled sweetly.

Her laughter pierced the silent night like a poisoned dagger driven straight through my ears.

"What? Afraid your broke courier boyfriend might suddenly show up?" Brandon sneered with a chuckle, his fingers shamelessly sliding across Siska's smooth thigh.

Siska curled her lip in disgust, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Don't talk about him, babe. I only stayed with him because I pitied him. He's nothing but trash that reeks of sweat and sunlight. Two years together, and all he could afford were dates at those cheap roadside fast-food places. He's a worthless loser."

My world exploded into pieces.

The pizza box slipped from my hand, crashing onto the polished marble floor. Its warmth, my joyful anticipation, our dream vacation, and the future I'd carefully imagined together vanished in an instant. My chest tightened so painfully that it felt like I was dying.

I shoved the glass door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

"Siska...?"

My voice came out hoarse, trembling violently. The tears I'd been holding back finally spilled down my face.

"So this... is your side job?"

Siska flinched in surprise, but the panic on her face disappeared within seconds, replaced by a cold stare filled with disgust.

"Arkan?! What are you doing sneaking in here? Do you have no shame?"

"Two years, Sis..."

It felt as if a giant boulder had crushed my chest. I gasped for air, struggling against the agony tearing my soul apart.

"We fought through everything together... and this is where you are? With him?"

My hands shook uncontrollably as I reached into my pocket and held out the red velvet box.

"I... I bought this for you. Tonight is our anniversary..."

Siska snatched the box from my hand, opened it, then burst into shrill laughter that shattered every last piece of my pride.

"A cheap silver bracelet like this?!"

Without the slightest hesitation, she swung her arm and hurled the jewelry box straight at my face.

The sharp corner slammed into my forehead.

A searing pain exploded across my skin. Seconds later, something warm and thick streamed down over my left eye, blurring my vision.

Blood.

Siska walked back to Brandon, wrapped both arms around his waist, and hugged him tightly, resting her head against his chest with affectionate sweetness. Brandon smiled smugly, slowly stroking her hair and shoulder as though proudly displaying what belonged to him.

"Brandon bought me a twenty-thousand-dollar Hermès bag yesterday, Arkan!" Siska bragged, clinging to him even tighter. "And you think you can compete with this thirty-dollar garbage? Know your place, you dog! You're nothing but trash!"

Brandon wore the most contemptuous smile imaginable while continuing to stroke Siska's hair.

Without dirtying his own hands, he snapped his fingers toward the two muscular bodyguards standing behind one of the pillars.

"Finish this piece of trash. Teach him where he belongs."

Before I could even process the pain in my head, the two men attacked.

A brutal punch drove straight into my stomach, knocking every bit of air from my lungs. My body doubled over before another barrage of fists slammed into my face, chest, and jaw.

The sickening sounds of impact echoed across the mansion's patio.

I collapsed onto the marble floor, groaning as I curled into a ball, desperately shielding my head. It didn't matter.

Heavy boots crashed into my back, stomach, and ribs over and over without mercy.

My muscles felt as though they were being torn apart. My bones creaked as if they were about to snap. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat before I vomited it across the spotless marble floor.

As I lay there barely conscious, clutching my shattered abdomen, one of the bodyguards grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head up.

The other roughly searched my courier jacket, ripped away my worn wallet, and emptied every last dollar of my one hundred and thirty-dollar tip.

"My bonus tip..." I groaned through burning pain.

"A rat like you doesn't deserve this kind of money," the bodyguard mocked as he shoved my empty wallet back into my jacket.

Then he picked up what remained of the pizza from the floor, spat on it, and tossed it into the trash.

Siska watched the robbery while remaining comfortably wrapped in Brandon's embrace, laughing with satisfaction, not a trace of pity in her eyes.

Brandon stepped closer, then casually pressed the tip of his expensive leather shoe directly onto my bleeding wound.

"See?" he whispered coldly. "Even your existence means nothing here."

He glanced at the guards.

"Drag this corpse out."

The two bodyguards hauled my broken body away like a sack of garbage and threw me outside the front gate.

I hit the cold asphalt hard just as a torrential downpour began.

With what little strength I had left, my entire body bruised and drenched in blood, I crawled pitifully toward my old motorcycle.

The destruction of my heart, the robbery, and the unbearable physical pain burned inside my chest.

I started the rattling engine and sped into the darkness, wanting nothing more than to escape that cursed place forever.

Halfway down the road, my body trembling and every breath filled with agony, the old phone inside my jacket suddenly vibrated violently.

A flood of incoming message notifications rang out one after another.

I was forced to pull my battered motorcycle over along a deserted roadside beneath the pounding rain.

With blood-covered fingers, I pulled the phone from my pocket.

Its cracked screen displayed a series of text notifications.

[LOAN APPROVED]

A loan application under the name ARKAN has been approved for $5,000, using your National ID Card as collateral. Interest Rate: 10% per week. (First payment due in 7 days.) The funds have been transferred to the designated holding account.

My heart stopped.

"A... loan...? What the hell is this?" I whispered in disbelief.

My hands shook violently as I hurriedly grabbed my worn wallet, the one those thugs had stolen earlier.

I threw it open and frantically searched every compartment.

Empty.

The slot where my ID card always sat was vacant.

My ID was gone.

In that instant, the horrifying truth crashed into me.

Brandon's thugs hadn't just stolen my one hundred and thirty dollars.

They had secretly taken my ID card.

They had used it to apply for an illegal five-thousand-dollar loan in my name, complete with a crushing ten percent weekly interest rate.

"NO!"

My scream echoed beneath the raging storm.

The wind swallowed my voice.

My world hadn't merely fallen apart.

I had been shoved into the darkest fate imaginable.

Betrayed.

Beaten.

Robbed.

And now trapped beneath thousands of dollars in debt that I could never repay, not even in a lifetime.

An overwhelming despair consumed the last remnants of my sanity.

I refused to keep living in this greedy, merciless world.

I hurled my cracked phone away, climbed back onto my battered motorcycle, and twisted the throttle all the way open.

I rode without direction, speeding across rain-slick roads, my vision blurred by tears mixed with blood.

At the city's main intersection, the traffic light glowed bright red.

I ignored it.

Instead, I twisted the throttle even harder and shot straight into the intersection.

I wanted everything to end right here.

A deafening truck horn shattered the silence.

Twin headlights from a massive container truck burst into my vision from the side.

The world spun violently.

Steel collided with flesh.

My body was launched dozens of feet through the air before crashing onto the unforgiving asphalt.

Every bone in my body shattered.

The horrifying sound of splintering bones echoed inside my skull.

I lay motionless in a pool of rainwater that slowly turned dark red with my own blood.

The unbearable pain reached its peak, then suddenly disappeared, replaced by an icy coldness spreading rapidly through my body.

Was this the end?

To die as worthless trash, discarded, trampled, robbed, and framed?

Then, within the fog of death slowly swallowing me, an impossibly brilliant neon-blue light suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

A semi-transparent holographic screen unfolded directly above my fading eyes.