Douluo Dalu: The Sovereign of Technology

It's lonely at the top.

Standing at one of the tallest buildings on Shanghai, China. A man named Yao Guai never felt the phrase resonate with him quite literally and figuratively. Dressed in a tuxedo composed of one black blazer and a white-collared long-sleeved shirt inside. His almost full black attire made him mirror the inky black of the curtain of stars hanging high up above with the full moon.

The man touched his left eye, gently tracing down a large ugly scar borne as if his face was nearly cleaved open by a blade. Likewise, scars nicked Yao's rough hands, hands he stared at. Eyes lost in the memory of the days far long gone.

A child raised so differently. Receiving no care, no affection. His mother nowhere to be found, his father received full custody.

A drunken man whose fists knew no mercy. A shrewd and ruthless mind treating the young him like a tool. Tossed into an underground fighting ring, a ring where one must kill or be killed. Each passing day, each subsequent victory slowly shredded the young child's mind. Turning, shifting it into something very sinister.

Eventually he escaped that life, alive but broken. Running far, seeking asylum in the halls of an orphanage, adopted, he led a new life. A life he couldn't be satisfied with.

Democracy? Laws? What were those?

Justice is only for the rich and powerful. The world itself, as peaceful it may seem is still governed by power. Those governing the countless nations of this world called earth had power so their laws are obeyed. Laws sometimes they may even break themselves.

As long as you were rich enough, powerful enough and careful enough one can get away with almost any crime.

At a young age Yao had no power, he had no money. He only had his broken calculative mind to help him. And so he pursued it. The path of greed.

He needed money so he became a businessman. Tricking the ignorant with his products and so-called innovations. Under the shadows he made shady deals, breaking his competitors through underhanded methods.

Richer and richer. More money leads to more money, he kept on amassing wealth.

Until the present.

Yao Guai, became the richest man on earth at the year 2058, 28 years after that global pandemic.

Yao was perfectly healthy, no illnesses whatsoever despite reaching the age of fifty. His wealth numbered in the hundreds of billions and his connections run deep, deep and plentiful resembling the roots of a bamboo forest.

He could do what he wanted and get away with it.

He could go insane, end the world by drowning it in nuclear radiation and recreate the world according to his ideals.

Yao Guai was free. Free but trapped at the same time.

The man stared down from the edge of the building. Down on the streets people walked, living their lives. Working and struggling for the things they needed. Their position in the game of life in comparison to his were the difference of heaven and earth.

But he could not understand it.

"How?" Yao questioned it.

How was it that he had everything now he would envy the common folk beneath him. They could smile, they could laugh and they were happy, some content with the lives they lived.

They were alive.

"Why?" The man grew frustrated, massaging his wrist with furrowed brows.

All the money in the world, he could buy anything that had a price tag. Those k-pop girl groups? He could date them with almost no repercussions.

He could even buy them or arranged for them to disappear. A testament to how twisted the world truly is.

All the contacts in the world. All the "friends" he could call and party with but he still felt lonely.

Yao had everything, but it felt like he was empty.

Frustration eating him out. Eventually those burning flames of discontent faded into flickering embers. Getting worked up over nothing brings no benefit. Calmness reigned once more as the turbulent emotions inside him were discarded.

The man gazed at the stars. Eyeing the moon and the faraway suns. His eyes shimmered and they took notice of a flickering streak of light.

So small and nearly un discernible. A streak of light cutting away the night.

A shooting star.

Yao knitted his brows and sighed.

He had gotten what he wanted but he felt so discontent.

He felt so lonely. So helpless.

He felt empty… A life that wasn't a life. A meaningless existence. He was the richest but so what? What should he do next?

All he had left in him was a wish.

And so, the man wished upon a star.

"If God or any Gods truly exist, then please grant me my wish. I want to feel alive, I want to find meaning in my life and be surrounded by those who wouldn't stab my back and I want to meet new people I could count on." Yao held his tongue and gritted his teeth.

"Please…"

"I want to live a meaningful life."

The shooting star shone resplendently and it vanished into the horizon.