I pressed the torn towel, heavy with radiation stains, against my privates with trembling hands. I wanted to run, but the System was walling off my escape routes one by one with digital barriers. Red, warning pixels exploded in my field of vision.
[RESTRICTION: A RENTED BODY BELONGS ONLY TO ITS MASTER. IT HAS THE AUTHORITY TO SET THE LENSES OF OTHER HUMANS ABLAZE. YOU MUST COVER UP!]
"F-ck..." I hissed. As soon as the word left my mouth, an electric lash cracked down from the back of my neck to my spinal cord. My body convulsed, my knees slamming into the muddy tiles.
[INFO: A small 'slap' jolt has been processed by your Master, DANTE. Your profanity will be disciplined. Do not panic.]
"Guys... and girls," I said, my voice cracking from the aftershock. "Someone... someone rented me. For 70 years."
The silence was heavier than the spray of the shower. Joseph, Adalin, and the others... those revolutionaries who had whispered of freedom under the table moments ago were now looking at me like I was a leper, a piece of property sealed by the System.
A rebel's greatest nightmare was to be included in the enemy's private collection. I was no longer one of them; I was now a part of the Obsidian Palaces.
Rage spread through my veins faster than radiation. I lunged for the rusty knife in Joseph's hand. The coldness of the metal seared my palm.
"No!" I shouted, pressing the tip of the blade directly onto my eye socket, right over that cursed lens.
"Joseph, take this knife! Blind me! Shatter this lens! Don't let them watch me, don't let them see me!"
"Dorian, don't!" Adalin's eyes filled with tears; she covered her mouth to stifle a sob. "Without your lens, you won't get your daily rations. The System won't be able to read your ID. The sinkholes will perceive you as a 'software virus' and bury you alive. No!"
At that moment, due to "shared broadcast" protocols, I could see the messages flooding into Adalin's field of vision. It was blood-curdling.
[OFFER: If you gouge out the boy's eyes with the knife, you get sponsorship for a Tier 1 home! — A Vampire Lord]
[OFFER: If the boy wants the knife, humiliate him with the hilt in exchange for 10 years of food! — A Vampire Lady]
Adalin was shaking. That red-haired revolutionary, crushed between her pride and her instinct to survive, suddenly bowed her head with a robotic voice.
"Thank you, Masters... thank you," she said, her voice sounding not like a prayer, but a curse. "I am a good pet. I am docile and obedient. I am not like my ancestors, those degenerate black plagues of the planet. Forgive me, Masters... I have no violent tendencies."
Watching the fire die in her eyes hurt more than the blade entering my own. Adalin had put her soul on the market in a matter of seconds. Just then, a new notification appeared on my screen.
[INFO: Vitamin supplements, real fabric, and non-synthetic food have been allocated to your shack by your Master, DANTE.]
It was like a high-quality bone thrown in front of a dog. Dante, my owner, had already begun tossing reward treats to domesticate me.
A look of hatred appeared in my friends' eyes; I was now that "elite" slave they couldn't reach. I hurled the knife to the floor. The sound of metal hitting concrete was the sound of my rebellion breaking. I shouted upward toward the cameras, toward that invisible Master, Dante.
"Thank you, Master! Thank you!" The sarcasm and hatred in my voice echoed through the corridors. "Is that what you want to hear? But I won't say it! I won't bow to you! These fabrics won't warm me, this food won't satisfy me. I am not your property I will be your end!"
The tremor came harder this time. As my consciousness blurred, the last thing I saw was Adalin looking at the knife on the ground and weeping.
System notifications continued to explode across my field of vision like a succession of digital executioners, each one more sadistic than the last. I wasn't just a human anymore; I had been stripped, tagged, and thrown into the putrid meat market of Vivaricus as a prime auction item.
[INFO: Master Loras has placed a bid for your vitality. Offer: 20 Human Years to be harvested upon delivery.]
[INFO: Mistress Elenor has submitted an 'Absolute Ownership' request. Exchange offer: One 18-year-old fertile female 'Poza' from Nuclearium City, guaranteed to produce three cycles of offspring.]
[DONATION: The 'Vein-Rippers' Street Vampire Gang has sent 1 Viva. Request: Use your fingers on yourself until you bleed. Keep the camera focused on your face.]
[BID: Lord Vane offers 50,000 Vivas for 'Dismantling Rights'. Request: To have your left arm removed and taxidermied for his private trophy room.]
My stomach churned, a bile-filled knot tightening in my throat. These requests hung on my screen like thick, diseased phlegm flung into my face. I could almost feel their cold, predatory eyes tracing the lines of my body through the lenses, calculating which part of me was worth the most. I was a carcass being torn apart by vultures before I was even dead.
But suddenly, the chaotic roar of notifications was severed as if by a jagged blade. The screen bled into total darkness, and a heavy, golden seal—cold and suffocating—stamped itself over my sight.
[SYSTEM: TOTAL LOCKDOWN. ALL EXTERNAL BIDS VOIDED. MASTER DANTE HAS BLOCKED ALL PUBLIC USERS.]
[SYSTEM: CONGRATULATIONS! MASTER DANTE HAS UPGRADED YOUR STATUS TO 'PREMIUM HUMAN - SOLE POSSESSION'.]
[RESTRICTION: ACCESS DENIED TO THE PUBLIC. YOU ARE NOW THE EXCLUSIVE PROPERTY OF DANTE. ANY UNAUTHORIZED TOUCH FROM OTHERS WILL TRIGGER AN IMMEDIATE SINKHOLE EXECUTION.]
"Premium..." I spat the word out, the metallic taste of blood and radiation coating my tongue.
The title felt like a heated iron brand pressed against my soul. I was no longer a common slave to be shared or fought over by the dregs of the city. I had become a 'Premium' toy—a rare, untouchable exhibit in one man's private, twisted collection.
Dante hadn't saved me he had simply built a more gilded cage, ensuring that no one else could break me before he had his turn. I was his "Premium" ghost, and my 70-year sentence had just begun in the most silent corner of hell.