IDENTITY:
USER: SMITH
NUMBER: 34
AGE: 22
HEIGHT: 1.74 m
WEIGHT: 64 kg
OCCUPATION: HACKER
SPECIALIZATION: 3D MODELING AND ELECTRONICS
HOBBIES: PAINTING AND SCULPTURE
VICES: GAMBLING AND GAMING
DEBT: $500.00 (DG) [OVERDUE]
BANK BALANCE: $23.00 (DG)
"Here's your ID, young man. The tow truck will deliver the car to your address in the late afternoon," said the junkyard owner.
"Okay."
"The total amount is 12 installments of $184.00 (DG) per week," said the old man, smiling from ear to ear.
"What a high price for a car carcass."
I thought, but then I confirmed.
"Y-Yes."
I replied with some sadness.
After leaving the junkyard, I headed to the apartment.
As I entered the side elevator of the apartment, I noticed that the hardware was rusty and the ropes were a little worn.
The elevator itself looks like an aging cage.
"Every time I get in this elevator, I feel like my life is at risk."
"However, I don't have the determination to climb the stairs to the 3rd floor."
The elevator stopped at the balcony on the third floor, the apartment where I live.
When viewed from above, my room is shaped like a cross.
The kitchen and a small bathroom are at the back.
On the right is my art studio, where there are oil paintings, sculptures, charcoal and pencil drawings scattered on the floor, as well as a computer for 3D modeling and digitizing tables.
The left side houses my HAKING studio, equipped with several monitors, keyboards, and flash drives, cables above and below the table, as well as robotics devices, Arduinos, and electronic boards of various categories.
In front of my bed, there are comforters and several pillows, as well as a simple window above the bed, providing a panoramic view of the city.
The roof itself is a disaster, with countless tiles damaged or cracked over time, not to mention the floor, which is quite uneven.
"Now I understand why the price was so low and convincing."
"I moved here just three days ago, I still have a lot to adjust and fix."
STRONDO!!!
CRASH!!!
RAIN!!!!
RAIN!!!!
"Damn, it was hell outside, and out of nowhere it started raining."
"This is becoming increasingly worrying; the weather is becoming very volatile."
After a while, Smith took off his clothes and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he was wrapped in a towel, his hair wet and water still dripping from his temples.
The room was cold, and the rain and strong winds outside the apartment only confirmed this.
Leaks began to appear under the tiles, and some cracked tiles creaked with the force of the intense winds.
Smith dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and comfortable long pants.
Looking in the mirror, he saw a young man with straight white hair, still damp from his recent shower, and a white stubble beard, not thick, but shallow and slightly attractive.
"Tonight, I'll stop by John's barbershop; it shouldn't be too busy."
STRONDO!!!
RAIN!!!!!
"AHHN!!, I'm so tired."
"With the weather outside like this, the best option is to take a nap."
Smith curled up under the comforter and fell asleep.
......…..
KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
KNOCK!!! KNOCK!!!
KNOCK!!!! KNOCK!!!!
"Damn, who is it?"
Smith got out of bed and went to the door. As he turned the doorknob, he found an elderly man with black hair streaked with gray, no taller than 5'6", heavyset, wearing a gray polo shirt. In the small pocket on the left side of his chest, he held a pen.
"Young man, your car is already downstairs. We just need you to place your hand on the biometric pad to confirm delivery."
Smith saw a small digital screen with his image and a space below to place his hand. After inserting it, the digital screen turned green and then went blank.
"Thank you, young man. By the way, I think you should fix that elevator. I thought I wouldn't make it up here alive, HAHAHA!!!"
Smith watched the old man with that annoying laugh, but understood what he was saying.
"Yes, I plan to do that as soon as possible," Smith replied in a neutral tone.
After getting off the elevator, the old man left with trembling legs.
Smith turned his back and looked at a square clock fixed to the wall.
"6:23 p.m., the barbershop must have quieted down by now."
Smith left his apartment feeling a little sleepy. Immediately after exiting the elevator that seemed to have been created by Satan, he crossed the street.
The sky was cloudy, and the newly lit neon lights in Briston gave the streets a melancholic air.
Briston is an underdeveloped port city, but it is possible to live peacefully there. Records of theft or death among residents are extremely rare.
The real problem is the sea of Briston, which is among the ten most dangerous ever documented in the world.
Tourists only reach the city through the forest, which is also quite dangerous, but is seen as relatively "safer" than the open sea.
Meanwhile, Smith walked through the icy streets of Briston, watching the reflections of the neon lights in the puddles formed by the heavy rain. Night was falling on the city, making everything more picturesque.
"It seems like this city was made for lonely people," Smith thought to himself.
At that exact moment, he arrived at the barbershop. The glass doors opened automatically as Smith approached.
"Cinderella!!! I thought you were dead?" John mocked, flashing a mocking smile at Smith.
Smith saw two men in the barbershop, one of them being John: a dark-skinned man, 5'11" tall, wearing a black cap, a green Boston Celtics shirt, black cargo pants, and white sneakers. The other was a bald elderly man with a wrinkled face, who was sitting relaxed on the couch, drinking what appeared to be very hot coffee while reading a newspaper.
"I told you to stop with those ridiculous nicknames."
"You're lucky this barbershop is the closest to my apartment; otherwise, I wouldn't even consider this place, especially paying such an exorbitant price for a haircut," Smith grumbled loudly.
"Damn it! You've never paid for a haircut, and this barbershop is the furthest from your apartment." John said incredulously:
"I could kill you and throw your body into the sea, but I don't think it makes sense to pollute the sea with dirty things." John said with feigned sadness.
Smith pretended not to hear John. He sat down in the chair with a frown.
John put a cape around Smith and began spraying water on his hair. He continued speaking.
"Did you hear about the death of the fishermen last night?" John asked with a serious expression.
"Huh? No."
Six fishermen lost their lives. The boat had no scratches or traces of blood, but the fishermen were found at sea with their bodies mutilated from the waist up." John spoke in a neutral tone.
"I didn't know you believed in such fantasies, John." Smith chuckled.
"It's not a fantasy, kid." The old man spoke for the first time, drawing the attention of Smith and John.
"I saw the bodies myself. It wasn't people, sharks, or any other aquatic species." He then continued
"The injuries are too brutal and macabre for anything we know or have ever seen." As it rained heavily outside the barbershop, the old man looked at the glass door and said:
"A biological mutation caused it." The old man spoke in a low voice.
John, who was shaving the side of Smith's head, stopped instantly, but it was Smith who spoke next.
"Be careful what you say, old man; this is a forgotten town, but don't think it's not being monitored." The government is always watching. Talking about the taboo can not only ruin your life, but also the lives of those involved, whether they like it or not. Smith spoke with a grim expression on his face.
John then switched from the razor to the electric shaver. After turning it on, he gently ran it over the sides of Smith's head and beard, leaving it smooth but flawless, just like his head.
Silence filled the barbershop, interrupted only by the hum of the clippers.
The old man continued to watch the glass door, then said:
"Sometimes doubt and mistrust are what keep a wise man alive."
"I may be talking nonsense, but I think the condition of cows and oxen is no different from ours here in this city." He then continued
"I've lived in this city for a long time, but I've never seen such a disturbed climate or such a terrifying sea at night." The old man said before getting up and leaving.