《The Death of Money》Part 0 Prologue
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Surprisingly, everything lay dead. The pixels of every enemy dissipated off the screen, one fragment a time. The only thing that remained was Yeung-Sung’s shimmering avatar, bright as he ever was. Centred on the screen, the golden figure crushed a medal in his hand, which sparked into a thousand digits that floated up, filling up a total in the upper right corner.
Yeung-Sung put his phone down, screen first.
‘It worked.’
The Champions leader sat across from him, locked in contemplation.
Was he convinced? Yeung-Sung swallowed. Was it too big of a risk to have taken?
Unsticking his hand from under his chin, the leader hovered it over a glass bowl on the coffee-table beside him. He plucked out a thick gummy -bear shaped- plopping the thing into his mouth. The leader crossed his legs and sank deep into his armchair.
Yeung-Sung had seen this before: the first person to talk lost. A hard thing for the Champion to lose with a face stuffed full of sweets. So he waited. Through each chew, each repositioned limb, Yeung-Sung stared with a secretly salivating mouth. But he stared in silence.
The leader himself was not so bothered with a staring contest, being transfixed by the phone that had displayed the impossible.
Yeung-Sung smirked. He looks at it as though it’ll tell him the strategy I used. No chance of that. Up here, buddy. Look into my eyes. Through these you might see some of the knowledge you seek. And how will you react?
Though Yeung-Sung was smiling, he felt strained. He felt in in the depths of his eyes, in the rest of his body, weary and thankful for the comfort of cushions. It actually worked. Sitting back in his own puffy armchair and spreading his lips in a wicked smile, he noticed the Champ finally swallowed his last bite.
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But still, his opponent in this test of patience did not say a thing. Instead, he simply took another gummy, put his hand up higher, and smiled right back when it was caught in his teeth. Yeung-Sung squeezed the arms of his chair until the wooden frame pressed into the ridges of his palms. Then, in a sudden breath he let go, throwing his hands up.
“Alright,” he said. “You’ve seen what my creations can do.”
Now came the real question. I realise that this guy would sooner see the world smoke before him than recede control, but unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury. I need to know how invested you are in this, Champ.
“How many do you want?” Yeung-Sung asked.
“All of them, naturally.” Bits of red and green jelly showed through his teeth as he talked. “I’m not letting anyone else compete with me this time. Oh, and you’ll stay here until I’m sure we have total control.”
The leader brought his hand out straight, pleased with his small victory. Yeung-Sung bit his lip. Hesitating, he lost himself in the detail of the hand’s deep scars. They were aged to a bone white, while Yeung-Sung’s were still red and swollen. A reminder of what he had gone through, to figure out the game of Airgead in a way even the Champions couldn’t fathom. Yet he knew that inside this agreement would be the betrayal of all his new friends.
Will it be worth it?
Jumping up, he stabbed his hand into the other. They shook for a long moment and with that, it was done.
He had corrupted the colony’s game economy.
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