Siva (Volume 6) Dead Man Island

Chapter 099: Pakwan

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Chapter 099: Pakwan
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Tirana opened her eyes and removed the glasses —the NLD— from her head. Her copper blonde hair sprawled on the futon that with just one look could tell you how long it has been in existence.

Her room was empty. Not quite literary, but on the objective side of it.

A table was on top of her futon. On top of it were four things: a finger-sized pen —a mobile internet adaptor, latest release; an empty cup of noodles; a pair of earrings, a classic model Communicator; and then a [card] with a hologram display of how much U-Credits she has left in her bank account.

Beside the table was an electric fan.

Beside the electric fan is the bulky NLD Console.

The room was 2m across and 3m long. A door to the corridor is the entrance and then contrasting that is a window with a small veranda big enough, only, for putting a single clothesline; in that clothesline, by the way, were six underwears that have been basking in the sun to dry up, swinging along the arid winds of the 22nd Century Seoul.

If there was a 'word' for poor, she was that word.

In this small apartment that doesn't even have its own sink and bathroom, she played RPG: Terroa for almost two years. Alone.

One could only imagine why she would even risk being naked in the desert and would treasure all of her equipments. She had survived alone in the world of Terroa and had done so for the past two years without asking anyone for help.

She was a capable girl, on her own right —though that 'right' doesn't amount to much.

When she was logged out after dying, she could wait for an entire day before she could use the Insurance Policy she had painstakingly bought with her 1-year of saved up money last month.

She lay there on the futon, staring at the ceiling, feeling lost and at the same time, fulfilled.

"I can't believe I had actually met him!" she was feeling excited. "Tomorrow, I'll beg him to take me to be a member of The Company."

Poor people don't have the right to choose. She could endure the humiliation of begging because she has nothing to hold on to anyways. She was already used to the life of a poor lad and aside from her accumulated experience and the items—

"—ah! The items"

She hurriedly got up and went to the table, then in front of her Communicators, she wiped the air and confirmed that the items were on her offline account, on her Communicator's local HD.

Only then did she lay back to the futon and put her left arm above her eyes, shielding it.

"I only have Terroa, nothing else."

And that's where she heard it, an email. She knew she had no friend and the only emails she received are either those news mails or promos.

She thought that it might be the latter.