-
"Sometimes, we forget that everything around us is born from uncertainty. A spider weaving its web can only hope that a single stray drop of water won't bring it all crashing down."
"The Maleo bird buries its eggs in scorching volcanic sand, leaving and never looking back. Entrusting the fate of its offspring to the whims of the Earth's temperamental heat. A torrential downpour that shatters a farmer's hope on the hillside might be the very breath of life for another in the quiet valley below."
"These are but branches sprouting from a single, fundamental root: Uncertainty."
"A single question then haunts our conscious minds: 'Where exactly is all of this heading?'"
"For millennia, we have clawed for an answer, scouring the patterns of history, until that long thread of thought finally bore fruit in a single conclusion;"
"Disappointment, or hope.
...
Disappointment that spirals toward ruin, or hope that paves the way for growth."
"Cruel, isn't it? Yeah, I know...After all, I'm the one laying it all out for you, aren't I?"
"And so...I find myself curious about the perspective of an 'outsider' like yourself. Tell me: where is your 'uncertainty' leading you? It's fine if the answer eludes you for now... I can wait."
-
...
...
...
Ding-dong!
A short chime from the digital bell rang out as the automatic doors slid wide open, ushering in the footsteps of arriving patrons...
NeoMart, 4th District.
A literal battlefield for bargain hunters. Scoring a deal here was no walk in the park; especially when flesh and blood had to outpace the sticky fingers of astral entities who could sniff out a discount from an aisle away.
The short, rhythmic beeps of the scanner echoed faintly, nearly drowned out by the chaotic hum of the crowd. Mischievous spirits darted to and from—a bizarre spectacle...until you realized that this very absurdity had woven itself into the fabric of our civilization.
"That brings your total to 16,500 credits, tax included. We accept cash or credit." A practiced, polite smile was plastered on the cashier's face as she gestured to the glowing monitor.
Raka furrowed his brow, glaring at the digits. He couldn't believe his mental math was this far off. Huh? 16,500? Just for a drink? The tag clearly said 15,000! And... tax? Since when they taxed this junk? I literally bought one yesterday tax-free! He swallowed hard, a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Uh, right, I'll pay with credit...But, um, excuse me...what...tax exactly? I thought anything under 20,000 was tax-exempt?"
The cashier raised an eyebrow, a patronizing smile greeting his ignorance. "Ah, yes. There's a new central mandate, sir, because too many Loophole Spirits were exploiting the net prices. Items under 20,000 are now subject to a 10% tax. Feel free to check our updated Buyer's Guide."
For a split second, he caught a glimpse of a tiny spirit perched atop the register, giggling, clearly mocking his stroke of bad luck.
A long, heavy sigh escaped his lips. His posture slumped, the fabric of his jacket bunching up as his shoulders sagged in defeat. Just my luck. Tax there and tax here...Getting taxed while I'm dead broke...
His hand hung in hesitation, as if his pocket had suddenly morphed into an abyss too deep to fathom. But slowly, his fingers crept inside, forced to surrender to the uncompromising bill.
With a heavy heart, Raka finally handed over his credit card. He could only look away as the register beeped, signaling another chunk of his dwindling balance being siphoned away for a single drink and an absurd tax.
His reluctance peaked as he waited for the cashier to process his data alongside his drained funds. Yet, cutting through that tense moment, a cold, apathetic voice echoed in his mind.
Tsk, tsk, tsk...What do we have here? Surrendering to a cash register's math so easily? Pathetic. If I were you, I'd make damn sure I only paid 15,000...That extra 1,500 is daylight robbery. A human like you ought to know that by now...
Right on cue, a pair of spectral eyes snapped open within his own shadow, glaring at Raka with unmistakable disappointment. It was Eizo, alright. His contracted spirit who was...a bit too nitpicky about the complexities of human life. His know-it-all attitude felt like a pebble in Raka's shoe every time he manifested.
Raka rolled his eyes at the ceiling, feeling bubbles of annoyance boiling in his gut. Ugh, can you zip it? It's not even your money, it's MY money. Get off my back, would you?
Hmm...Alright, alright. Whatever you say, 'Master'. Just a friendly reminder...Did you really think I didn't know how dangerously thin your wallet's been looking lately?
Raka ground his teeth. He was a split second away from spitting a venomous retort at his own shadow when—
BZZZT! BZZZT!!
A violent vibration in his jacket pocket interrupted him, yanking his attention back like a taut leash. He shoved his hand into his pocket roughly, intending to kill the alarm or whatever it was, but the name 'Rina' flashing on the screen made his stomach drop. Without skipping a beat, he swiped the green button.
"Yo, sup, Rin-"
"RAKAAAA!! THERE'S...THERE'S ANOTHER ROGUE SPIRIT!! GET BACK HERE NOW! PIKO IS BURNT-OUT!"
Rina's shriek pierced through the speaker, so shrill that Raka instinctively yanked the phone away from his ear. The crashing of falling objects and a faint, rumbling roar echoed in the background as his sister spole, vying for the spotlight and drowning out her hoarse voice. It was more than enough proof that she wasn't just pulling a prank this time. This time.
"THIS THING JUST WON'T STOP THROWING THINGS AROUND!"
Raka froze. His eyes widened, his gaze darting between the receipt slowly printing out and his phone. It was as if he was agonizing over whether to prioritize the groceries so his money wouldn't go to waste, or heed Rina's frantic call.
"Hello?! RAKA?! ANSWER ME ALREADYYY!! DAMMNNN ITTT!!!" Rina's voice exploded from the speaker.
"I've been DYING to contact the Outpost, but our reputation would be completely trashed!! YOU KNOW HOW CYNICAL THOSE CORPORATE DOGS ARE, RIGHT?! You really want to hand over our bounty to them?! NO NO NO NO!! WE'D GO ABSOLUTELY RUINED!! I WON'T STAND FOR IT!! NEVER IN A MILLION YEAR-" Rina vented from the other end of the line, her words firing off like a machine gun without a millisecond of delay.
"Dammit!! Y-yeah, just hold them off for a sec! I'm on my way!!" Raka shouted, completely ignoring the weird looks from the cashier and the surrounding shoppers. He was out of time to give a damn about what anyone thought.
Raka's body moved on autopilot; his hand snatched his credit card and the drink from the counter, immediately breaking into a sprint toward the exit. He burst out of the building with dozens of eyes locked onto him.
The cashier stared blankly, her gaze fixed on the automatic doors slowly sliding shut. The silence in her mind grew deafening as she glanced down at the customer ID data she had just processed:
"...A Tracer...?"
MetroStreet, 4th District, Block 4
The sidewalks of the 4th District were a symphony of organized chaos. Human footsteps weren't the only things crowding the pavement—traffic enforcement drones and wandering spirits all played their part in breathing life into the city.
Raka darted like an arrow, weaving through the dense traffic ahead of him. Usually, in situations like this, Eizo would jump in to help unprompted. But not this time. Eizo remained dead silent, as if his owner wasn't currently in a blind panic barreling down the street. Raka cursed inwardly, knowing full well it was because he'd been ignoring way too much of Eizo's advice over the past few days. Tch, great...Looks like I gotta coax this guy before he'll even lift a finger...
Raka shifted his focus to his route; his mind was racing, calculating the fastest way back to his apartment in Block 7. Main road? Traffic jam, hell not even worth considering. Back alleys? Could run into some thugs or...worse, a territorial rogue spirit. Dammit...
"Ugh, whatever! I'll risk it," he muttered to himself, before initiating a bargaining session with Eizo. "Oi, Eizo, lend me a hand and I'll get you your favorite vinegar soda," he bribed, praying for a positive response. A rejection right now was absolutely out of the question.
...Vinegar soda? ...Heh, you humans really are quite adept at this sort of thing, aren't you...?
...Four bottles of em, or not at all.
Raka nearly choked on his own spit. He blinked erratically, his forehead crinkling as he realized his bribe was a double-edged sword. Four bottles of premium vinegar soda...That was equivalent to a week's worth of instant coffee for him and Rina, half a month's electricity bill on a good day, and their daily transit fare for the next month.
Handing over a bounty that massive just to get him, this spirit of his, to cooperate? Hah...He already knew he was going to regret for even opening his mouth.
"T-tch...Acting dirty, huh?" Raka groaned, hesitating over the devil's bargain he was about to strike. "Fine, deal! Just help me right now! Gotta work fast and follow my lead!" he snapped, knowing there was no better way to get there faster without burning precious seconds that withered away with his every step.
A mediocre offer, but I accept the terms.
"...Huff, appreciated..."
Raka slipped his drink into his jacket pocket, padding it against any potential impact.
Then, his hand snatched something strapped to his waist—a Portable Modulator the size of a matchbox. Its surface emanated a dim blue glow, capped by a tiny red indicator light. It was a device that acted as a "translator" of sorts, an auxiliary tool meant to streamline the synchronization between him and Eizo whenever push came to shove.
"...Alright, let's get to work..."