I’ve Been Robbed

As Petya walks through the empty street, he can feel stares from the shadows following him and fights the urge to run back to his apartment.

He comes up to a run down building in a secluded area, situated next to the main outer wall that separates Sector 19 from the Barren Ground.

The outer wall is remarkably tall and industrial looking, with numerous security cameras and barricaded watchtowers on opposite sides.

In thick bold lettering, 'SECTOR 19' is imprinted in the concrete at the top of the wall.

The Union didn't care to make the sectors look pretty, at least not this one. Back then, when they were building this place in the aftermath of the war, functionality mattered more than appearances.

So what if it looked like a prison? Those walls are at least 5 meters thick and made with military grade concrete, and there is also another fortified barrier outside.

Nothing will be getting past their defences, radioactive zombie creatures be damned.

The watchtowers seem intimidating, but in reality it's just for show. There's no actual law enforcement or security in this area, as it's already been overrun by crime organisations and mercenary groups.

At the beginning when Katafygio was first built, this sector was a decent place to live, as were the other lower sectors- but it all derailed at some point and the Union didn't bother looking into it.

They pretty much chucked people in here and forgot about them.

Of course, it's a completely different story for the more affluent sectors of Katafygio.

Standing at the main door, Petya gulps, about to knock when the door abruptly swings open, making him stumble back.

A large man blocks the entrance, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed nonchalantly.

He has long crimson hair tied up in a loose ponytail, a scar across his neck and a muscular frame, standing at an impressive height of 6'11. He looms over Petya menacingly.

'Holy- this guy is ginormous…' Petya's only 5'9, so this man is practically a giant when compared to him.

"Uhh… is your boss here?" Petya finally manages to speak.

With a disinterested sigh, the red haired man turns his head around and calls out into the dark hallway.

"Hey, a blondie has come lookin' for you."

After some shuffling about from the other thugs and a brief commotion, a gruff voice replies.

"Bring him in."

Petya squeaks as the giant man lifts him up by the collar, his feet dangling off the ground. He carries Petya like that, as if he's a lost kitten, and then tosses him into one of the lounge rooms.

The room has ambient red lighting, and puffs of cigar smoke fill the air. Petya fails to hold in a cough.

The big boss, a chubby man with an unattractive appearance, is sitting casually on a black leather sofa with a man and a woman in revealing clothing plastered on his sides, showering him with attention.

Situated around the main table are a few nameless guests, however they didn't pay Petya any mind, continuing on with their gambling.

Petya's been in this building once or twice before, so he knows what to expect. You could say he's desensitised to this sort of scene.

Before the red haired man is about to leave, the boss speaks up.

"Technically... you're under my service, so that makes me your boss. Can't you speak to me with a bit more formality?"

The giant's gaze sharpens into daggers, his aura becoming suffocatingly heavy. Cold gold eyes seem to pierce right through his chubby body.

The boss instinctively trembles, sweat beading on his temple.

"If it weren't for orders, you'd rather catch me dead than with an inch of my foot in this godforsaken place. Don't push your luck. Unless of course… you no longer need my help?"

"Ah- no no, don't be like that, Aslan." the boss stammers nervously. "Forget what I said."

"That's what I thought." The man huffs and slams the door shut behind him.

"..."

Glancing around the room, Petya notices two bulky men standing behind the boss, their faces slightly obscured by the dark. They're no doubt his bodyguards… seems like he's changed them again…

"If it isn't our little mad scientist."

"Not a scientist," Petya mumbles. "Also, do I have to keep reminding you that smoking isn't healthy?"

Ignoring him, big boss continues. "You have the credits?"

"Yeah, about that..." Petya rubs his neck sheepishly. "Can I have a bit more time? I don't exactly have the amount right now…"

The boss doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he shakes his head, a disdainful expression emerging on his unsightly features.

"I've been far too generous to you, Romanov. I've extended the deadline multiple times now. Do you take me for a charity?"

Petya can feel his blood pressure rising.

…you've been generous?

What generosity?!

You took advantage of me when I was at my lowest! If I wasn't so blinded back then and in desperate need of money, I never would've taken your so-called generosity!

Petya bites back a bitter remark. He doesn't want to get into a conflict and remain here any longer than he has to.

"This will be the last time." he replies monotonously.

The chubby man's silence cast an apprehensive atmosphere. He tuts and rubs his cigarette butt in a metal ashtray being held by the woman beside him.

"Fine."

Petya sighs in relief. "Thank-"

"-but that comes with 40% interest."

Petya blinks a few times.

"Sorry, could you repeat that? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"40%."

"40%?"

Big boss slams his fist down on the table, making the guests jump in their seats.

"Don't f*cking play with me, are you deaf or what?"

Petya pouts at him, "Hey, don't be an ableist. What if I have a hearing impairment?"

"Oh. Well, do you?"

"No."

"…" Big boss' eyebrow twitches in frustration.

"But anyway, don't you think 40% is a bit… you know, excessive?"

The big boss laughs loudly, as if he's heard something extremely amusing, and the man and woman beside him have to cover their noses from the foul stench of his breath.

"Hahaha, excessive? How funny."

'…there's nothing funny about that, though…'

However, the big boss' mood does a complete 180, and he stands up abruptly, a dark look overtaking his face.

"I've changed my mind. You think that's excessive? Then, I'll be gracious. You won't have to pay 40%, but in return you're not allowed to leave until I get the money we agreed on."

Boss raises a finger and one of the men standing in the shadows comes up right behind Petya.

Feeling the barrel of a gun pressing up against his head, Petya involuntarily holds his breath, biting the flesh of his inner cheek.

Sh*t… how did the situation change so quickly?

"Now, be a good boy and give me your wrist."

Seeing Petya not moving a muscle, big boss tuts and orders his men to restrain him.

They grab onto Petya's arms, lifting up his sleeves to expose a patch of skin on the underside of his left wrist.

Underneath the skin, embedded in the muscle, is a tiny chip that was implanted at birth.

It's an indicator of one's identity, social security details, personal records and bank information if they have registered an account.

Essentially, the chip was anything a person could need.

Millions of people lost important paperwork and personal documents during the war, so doing certain things that required identification was difficult.

Therefore, the Union decided that a chip was an efficient way for individuals to keep all their private information. On one's own self.

They started implanting chips onto the survivors, and also onto any newborns. Of course, not everyone agreed with these changes, but it's not like they had a choice.

It eventually became the norm and the majority of Katafygio's residents have them.

If you received a chip, it's illegal to remove it and you could be prosecuted severely if authorities discovered the fact.

Unluckily for Petya, his bank account is also registered on his chip.

"Don't touch me with your grimy hands. I can do it myself." Petya complains, shaking the underlings hands off of him.

They watch him closely as a small light beam takes a retina scan of Petya's eyes, and his bank details are displayed on a holoscreen floating above his wrist.

Petya sighs.

"Did you forget what I said earlier? I don't have the amount that you want. I only have 2500 in my account right now. Look, see?" Petya points towards the holoscreen.

"And?" Big boss says.

Eh?

Petya frowns, eyeing him dubiously. "I'm not sure I'm following you. What do you mean 'and?'"

"Kid, I'm taking 10,000 from you right now whether you like it or not."

"But… you can't do that, can you?"

Without replying to Petya, boss grips onto his wrist harshly, making him wince. With the gun on his head, Petya can't do anything but watch as the big boss takes all the money from his account.

"…"

[Transaction complete.]

A second message pops up on the holoscreen.

[You have reached the limit of your overdraft. As a considerable amount of credits have been withdrawn, your account has been temporarily suspended due to suspicious activity. Please contact your nearest local bank.]

Petya's eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

What the…

Suspended due to suspicious activity...?

Damn right, this is suspicious activity! This guy just robbed him and took money that he didn't even have!

Great, now he's in even more debt with the bank…

Petya is startled and confused at the turn of events. He has no idea what's going on anymore.

"Kekeke, alright then, off you go."

As soon as the big boss got what he wanted, his underlings threw Petya out of the building through the back door, the blond man landing face first on the dry and dusty soil.

Petya coughs and spits out the dirt in his mouth, picking himself up from the ground. He hears loud laughter echoing behind him.

He wants to sob.

'My money…'

On his pitiful walk back home, he seriously considered selling one of his organs.