I bolted awake, nearly jumping out of my skin.
My entire body was drenched in sweat. Even the thin t-shirt I was wearing clung to my skin like a wet rag. The heat was unbearable, so I ripped the shirt off in a single motion, throwing it aside.
"It was just a nightmare."
I wiped my forehead, gasping for air. My chest heaved violently with every rapid breath.
"I have never had a worse nightmare in my entire life!"
Sitting on my disheveled bed, I scanned my surroundings. I needed to be sure. Yes, it was just a dream. I was safe in my own room.
Clothes and random objects were strewn everywhere, scattered across the floor as if a wild animal lived here, not a human. Nothing was in its rightful place. One look at this chaotic, messy room was enough to tell anyone—this was my kingdom.
I was well-accustomed to my daily disorder, so ignoring the lingering dread of that meaningless nightmare, I walked out to the balcony. I stared toward the river. To be honest, you could see the river from my room, but the view wasn't exactly picturesque. It was five or six houses away, and its beauty had long been ruined by the constant traffic of motorboats.
…
The river was called the 'Golden River.' But its current state looked nothing like gold. I honestly didn't know why it still carried that name.
Perhaps my lack of knowledge was because I spent most of my student life sleeping on the back bench of my school. I had already stepped into my twentieth year. Just a few months ago, I received my bachelor's degree from 'Societies Chain University.'
Usually, in our country, Vangaria, students earn their degrees by nineteen. The reason it took me until twenty was that I started kindergarten a year late. Two years of kindergarten, five years of school, two years of college, and four years of university—adding it all up brought me to twenty. To me, however, this wasn't a problem at all.
And as for my university? It doesn't even make the list of the top twenty or thirty universities in the country.
There wasn't any special reason for enrolling there. To fulfill my dream, a bachelor's degree from any ordinary university was enough.
…
Suddenly, a thought spiked in my brain:
"Oh, what is today's date?"
The moment I looked back into the room to check, I realized I first had to complete a rescue mission:
finding the calendar.
In a normal room, a calendar graces a specific wall. But in my room, finding the calendar was like searching for a mirage in a desert.
Letting out a sigh of frustration, I began the impossible mission, scouring every corner of the room. After inspecting every nook and cranny, I still came up empty.
Despair dripped from my voice:
"WHERE DID THAT DAMN CALENDAR GO!!!"
Just then, my eyes caught something peeking out from the corner of my pillow.
"That's... actually typical," I muttered to myself.
"Honestly, this room is weird!"
Grabbing the calendar, I sat back down on the bed. But the moment my eyes landed on today's date, they widened in shock.
My lips trembled slightly, trying to form words that wouldn't come out.
January 1st, 1915.
From today, the journey to fulfill my dream begins! My long-awaited goal—the first step to becoming a 'Prime.'
At that exact moment, a rhythmic knocking came from my door.
Knock, knock, knock.
A familiar voice floated in from the other side—my father, Noman. Interestingly enough, just a few days ago, he had become a 'Third Tier Prime.' In simple terms, he was at the highest level of Primes. And I wanted to be exactly like him.
"Durlav, can I come in? The laundry man is here. do you have any dirty clothes?"
"You can come in."
With a soft creak, the door opened, and Dad entered. Over his shirt and pants hung a cooking apron. Small, faint stains on the apron suggested he had either just finished cooking or had just come from the kitchen.
The moment his eyes landed on the state of my room, his face twisted in disapproval. He knew I couldn't keep anything organized—objects never stayed where they belonged.
Still, he scolded me, "Durlav, you're a grown man. At least learn to organize your own room."
But miraculously, even as he scolded me, he started picking up the clothes from the floor one by one, tossing them into the laundry basket he carried. At one point, he didn't even hesitate to pick up my sweat-soaked t-shirt and throw it in.
That's when Dad noticed something. No matter how much he lectured, my gaze remained fixed on the calendar.
"What happened? You're not responding to a word I'm saying!"
"No, nothing. It's just that today is—"
Dad cut me off, grinning teasingly.
"Today is what? You're getting married?"
"WHY WOULD I BE GETTING MARRIED!!!"
He chuckled, then corrected himself.
"Nah, even if I tried a thousand times, no father would give his daughter to you. I can be absolutely certain of that."
Laughing, he turned to leave the room, the laundry basket swinging in his hand. He didn't listen to another word I said.
Just before exiting, he tossed back, "Come eat before you get married. Breakfast is ready."
I fumed silently. Why would I get married! What is he even talking about!!
…
Anyway, thanks to him being a 'Prime'—and more importantly, a 'Third Tier Prime,' the highest status in our country—our family's economic condition was unimaginably comfortable.
Establishing oneself as a Prime is incredibly difficult, and reaching the apex, the Third Tier, is a near-impossible goal. This title brings not only extraordinary social status but also immense financial security.
A Prime's monthly base salary starts at a hundred Runi's . On top of that, they receive separate bonuses for every dangerous and critical mission they successfully complete.
'Runi's ' is the most valuable of the three currencies used for economic transactions in our country, Vangaria. It is typically used for large-scale transactions and for paying the monthly salaries of mid-to-high-class workers.
Sadly, there are many poor people in society whose daily wages are so low that they are never paid in Runi's ; they are forced to accept their earnings in the remaining two lower-tier currencies.
This financial disparity is a cruel reality of Vangarian society.
Regardless—in the context of Vangaria—if a typical family of three can earn twenty to thirty Runi's a month, they can live quite comfortably.
Ten Runi's is enough to cover a full month's worth of food and groceries. And renting a decent house in the lower end of the city costs about five to six Runi's . Though I don't know the exact figure for us—the house we live in is government-allocated.
With the remaining money, one can easily afford a good education at a semi-private institution for their children and cover emergency medical expenses.
But my father's income doesn't stop at the hundred Runi's base salary; combined with mission bonuses and other perks, it is several times higher than the average, placing our lifestyle near the peak of luxury.
…
Suddenly, Dad's loud shouting came from the next room:
"DURLAV, HAVE YOU STILL NOT SHOWERED? AND HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO SIT ON THE BED SHIRTLESS? THE FOOD WILL GET COLD!! AND I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR URGENT WORK!!"
"YES, YES!!"
My silence broke instantly. I quickly got off the bed and headed straight for the washroom. Since I had already taken off my t-shirt, my upper body was completely bare.
Entering the washroom, I stared at myself in the mirror for a while. Another bad habit I'd had for years surfaced again.
I began to twist and contort my face into various expressions in the mirror. I warped my features until I looked less like myself and more like some strange creature. Seeing my own distorted reflection, I started giggling to myself.
Standing in front of the mirror, I began talking to my reflection:
"Look at yourself, Durlav. Soon, you will be just like your father."
"Yes, Durlav, you are right," I answered myself.
When I was on the balcony, judging by the sky, I guessed it was around nine o'clock. I didn't know the exact time, but I was completely stress-free. Since the sky was just starting to look a bit dim, I had formed a firm belief in my mind:
I have plenty of time.
The seminar starts at ten exactly. So, I still have a full hour. I'll take the Horse-drawn omnibuses bus to reach headquarters.
Although our life borders on luxury, we don't own a personal car. To own a private vehicle, one must first obtain a permit from the government, then pass an exam, and finally, receive a license along with the permission to purchase one. But honestly, we never felt the need for it.
Buying a motor car just seemed like a waste of money.
As I lowered my head slightly to grab my toothbrush, a drop of cold water suddenly landed on my left hand.
I was startled. Where did this water come from? Is there a leaky pipe somewhere?
Subconsciously, I raised my hand to my left cheek. I looked in the mirror—water was flowing continuously from my left eye.
My lips moved slightly; I whispered in a broken voice:
"Am I... crying? But why?"