In the early morning light of New Pann City, the world in Dertal Kael’s mind was shrouded in darkness. The 21-year-old chemistry major at the University of Specialized Sciences stood in an old laboratory, where the pungent smell of chemicals couldn’t mask the bitter taste of disappointment rising in his throat. Dertal carefully held a test tube containing a gleaming piece of copper, slowly pouring hydrochloric acid (HCl) into it. The reaction was silent, without a ripple, much like his life at that moment—still and hopeless.
“This is because HCl doesn’t react directly with copper,” Dertal muttered, his voice weary but retaining the focus of a scientist. He reached for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) and added a few drops to the test tube. Instantly, a faint hiss echoed, the solution turned a vibrant green, and bubbles surged vigorously.
Pointing at the frothing test tube, a fleeting spark lit up Dertal’s eyes. “See that? That’s oxygen gas, not hydrogen.”
His classmate nearby only mumbled a half-hearted response, barely paying attention. Everything dragged on, slow and dull.
As evening fell, Dertal trudged back to his dilapidated boarding house. At the entrance, the landlady stood waiting, her sour expression and piercing gaze cutting into him like a blade.
“Where’s this month’s rent?” she demanded, her voice dry and harsh.
Dertal lowered his head, humiliation washing over him. “I… I don’t have the money yet. Can you give me one more week, please?” He knew it was a lie; a week wouldn’t change anything, but his throat tightened as he pleaded.
“Pay up soon!” the landlady snapped, her eyes boring into him before she turned and left, leaving Dertal with the heavy weight on his shoulders.
The cramped, damp room greeted him with an oppressive silence. Collapsing onto his creaky bed, he pulled out his phone. The screen displayed his account balance: 10 pann. Just ten pann—roughly ten dollars.
“What the hell is this?” Dertal muttered, a bitter smile curling his lips. Fear crept through his body, squeezing his heart. “How is there only 10 pann left? Will this even cover food for a week? And I still have to pay tuition… If I don’t have money, I’m done for.” The thought of being expelled from school, of losing his future, gripped his throat like an invisible hand.
In desperation, Dertal called his parents. “Dad, do you have any money?”
The voice on the other end hesitated, heavy with helplessness. “No, son. We don’t have anything… How much do you need?”
“Just 25 pann,” Dertal said, his voice catching as he suppressed a sigh. He knew his parents were struggling too.
“I think we can manage that. I’ll send it over.” A notification pinged, signaling the transfer, but it brought little relief. Twenty-five pann was a drop in the ocean of his debts.
Dertal slipped into his wrinkled waiter’s uniform, reeking of grease. A taxi was too luxurious—5 pann a ride was half his weekly food budget. “Forget it,” he decided, and began the long walk, each step heavy on the darkened road.
The diner was loud with clinking dishes and the chatter of customers. Dertal moved like a machine, repeating, “What would you like to order?” and carrying trays of food. He worked tirelessly until 8:30 p.m., his legs aching as he dragged himself back home. By the time he reached the boarding house, it was 8:55.
“Working like this for just 245 pann a month,” Dertal sighed deeply. Two hundred forty-five pann was a pittance compared to the mountain of debt awaiting him. Exhausted, he collapsed into a heavy sleep, hoping tomorrow might be better.
The next morning, Dertal woke, cleaned up, and headed to school as usual. But something was different today. The principal summoned him to his office.
“Have a seat,” the principal said, his tone cold, stirring a bad feeling in Dertal’s gut.
“Yes, sir.” Dertal sat, his back rigid but his heart sinking.
“I called you here today about your tuition.”
Dertal froze, his throat tightening as if strangled. “I… I don’t have the money yet, sir.”
“How many times have you said that?” The principal’s voice grew sharp, each word slicing into Dertal’s pride.
“So… how much is the tuition?” Dertal asked, a faint hope flickering as his heart pounded.
“Fifteen hundred pann.”
“What the…!” Dertal nearly shouted, reeling from the astronomical figure. “I don’t have that kind of money to pay today! Can you give me four more months? I promise I’ll pay. My salary is only 245 pann, and I’ve only saved 375 pann.” His voice trembled, pleading, his eyes brimming with tears.
The principal shook his head, his gaze unyielding. “I’m sorry, but I’ll give you five more weeks. If you don’t have the money by then, you know what happens.”
Dertal understood. “I understand, sir. Thank you.” Stepping out of the office, despair consumed him, extinguishing every shred of hope. Five weeks… even less than four months.
He immediately called his parents, lying about the amount to add pressure. “Dad, I’m due to pay tuition—1750 pann.”
There was a long pause before his father’s helpless voice replied, like a thunderbolt to Dertal’s ears. “What? We don’t have that kind of money, son. My monthly salary is only 300 pann, and your mother has nothing.”
“Oh… okay then.” Dertal hung up, tears streaming down his face, unstoppable. No one could help him.
Walking back along the sidewalks of New Pann, despair and fear enveloped him, an invisible burden crushing his shoulders. A man in his early twenties, tall and stylishly dressed, approached him suddenly.
“Hey, hi there,” the man said with a friendly smile.
Dertal mumbled back, “Oh, hi.” He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“I’m Kyoto.”
“Yeah, I’m Dertal.”
Kyoto looked into Dertal’s eyes, his smile carrying a hint of allure. “You look pretty down. What’s wrong?”
Dertal averted his gaze. “Uh, nothing.” He started to walk away, but Kyoto grabbed his arm.
“Hey, do you need money?” Kyoto’s voice was warm, almost seductive. He slipped a piece of paper into Dertal’s hand. “This is how you can reach me if you need cash.”
Dertal frowned. “How can I trust you?” His mind buzzed with questions and suspicion.
Kyoto said nothing, simply reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a thick stack of bills, easily worth thousands of pann, and let it flash before Dertal’s eyes. The green glow of the money illuminated the night, reflecting Dertal’s longing and shock. His body froze, his heart racing.
“There’s more where that came from,” Kyoto whispered, his smile cryptic, before patting Dertal’s shoulder. “Call me when you need me.” He turned and walked away, leaving Dertal standing stunned in the middle of the street, clutching the paper with Kyoto’s number, the image of that stack of money haunting his mind.
Nearly a week later, at the diner where Dertal worked, his boss approached with a glum expression. “Sorry, guys. The place is shutting down. Since you haven’t worked a full month, I can only pay you 230 pann each.”
Dertal returned home, his head spinning. “Tomorrow’s rent is due—200 pann. And then there’s tuition.” He collapsed onto his bed, clutching his head, the world spiraling around him. The last door seemed to have slammed shut.
Suddenly, the paper with Kyoto’s number slipped from his pocket. A spark of hope flared, then faded. Dertal hesitated, a battle raging in his mind. “No, I won’t do it. I’ll find another way. I have to hold onto my conscience…” He tried to push the temptation aside, clinging to his last shred of hope.
The next day, Dertal paid the 200 pann for rent and went to school. He searched everywhere for work—cafes, convenience stores, service companies—but it was futile. Some places were fully staffed, others rejected him for lack of experience, and the few that offered jobs paid too little to cover his expenses. Each closed door was a dagger to his fragile hope.
Exhausted, Dertal returned home and collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. “The places that rejected me only had manual labor jobs. I’m not strong enough for that, but I know chemistry.” A thought flickered: Could his chemistry knowledge be his way out?
Weeks later, with the tuition deadline looming, Dertal muttered to himself, “Damn it! Two days left to pay tuition, and I don’t have enough.” He stared at Kyoto’s paper, his trembling hand reaching for it. After sleepless nights of struggle, survival won out. “There’s no other choice but to call that number.”
Taking a deep breath, Dertal dialed, his fingers shaking.
“Hello?” a warm voice answered.
“This is Dertal. I need money. Are you Kyoto?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any work for me?”
Kyoto paused, then replied, “Just one night. Give me your address, and I’ll come.”
“I’ll be at the park.”
“Okay, wait there.”
Dertal arrived at the park, his heart pounding—not from excitement, but from fear of the path he was about to take. A sleek black car pulled up in front of him. Kyoto sat in the passenger seat, flashing his familiar smile.
“Hi,” Dertal said hesitantly.
“Get in,” Kyoto gestured.
Dertal climbed into the back seat. Beside him sat a young man with disheveled black hair, staring out the window with cold, distant eyes. He seemed younger than Dertal but exuded an air of recklessness and danger that sent a chill down Dertal’s spine.
“That’s my friend, Jin J. Joe,” Kyoto introduced. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m a student at the science university, majoring in chemistry. I’m 21. I was a waiter, but the diner closed,” Dertal said, trying to stay calm despite his unease.
“That’s a shame,” Kyoto said, then turned to the other boy. “Hey, Jin, say hi to Dertal. Jin… Jin?”
The boy with messy hair turned, his expressionless eyes locking onto Dertal. “What? Nah, I’m Jin J. Joe. Just call me Jin.” His voice was flat, mechanical, as if the conversation was already over.
“Uh,” Dertal felt awkward under Jin’s cold demeanor. “I’m Dertal Kael. What do you do? How old are you?”
“Student at the Technology and Science University. Computer science major. 19,” Jin said curtly, then turned back to the window, ending the exchange.
“Um…” Dertal trailed off, uncomfortable.
Kyoto broke the silence. “I’m 19 too, but I flunked out of college. Haha, too dumb for it.” He gave an awkward laugh. “Jin and I go way back. He’s a loner, and I’m the only one he’s close to. Shame—one of us got in, the other didn’t.” Kyoto glanced at Jin with a complex look, a mix of familiarity and subtle deference.
“Jin’s crazy smart, but his family’s not well-off. He’s at a good school, though. His real parents were killed, and no one knows who did it. He was sent to an orphanage and adopted at 12. His parents died when he was 10, and the killer’s still out there.” Kyoto’s voice lowered, the air in the car growing heavy. “They say when they found him, he was sitting near his parents’ bodies, covered in blood. The murder weapon—a knife—was never found. People said he didn’t look too scared, just in shock. His real parents were accused of abusing him a lot. He passed out when the police arrived. Jin’s got dissociative identity disorder from the trauma, but he’s better now.”
Dertal glanced at Jin, a pang of sympathy rising in his chest. He noticed Jin’s shoulders tense slightly, his hand clenching unconsciously on his thigh, though his eyes remained fixed outside, devoid of emotion. “That’s really sad. Poor guy…”
The car stopped in front of a large, imposing house that radiated an eerie aura. The three stepped out, Jin and Dertal trailing behind Kyoto, the tension palpable. Kyoto knocked on the door. A man with a cold, piercing gaze opened it, scanning them.
“Hello, boss. Michael Lesley,” Kyoto said respectfully.
“Kyoto. What are you doing here?” Michael’s eyes lingered on Jin and Dertal, assessing them.
“Sir, these two—Jin and Dertal—they want to make some money.”
“What can they do?” Michael asked, his tone skeptical, almost mocking.
“One’s good with computers, the other with chemicals.”
Michael snorted. “Good at school, huh? What’s that worth? Come in here, and you’re as good as dead.” He moved to close the door.
“Wait, boss!” Kyoto grabbed the door. “They’re sharp and quick-witted too.”
“So what?” Michael raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
Kyoto pointed at Jin. “Jin’s not just good with computers—he can hack into secure systems.”
Jin thought to himself, What? Since when can I do that?
Michael’s gaze swept over Jin, then Dertal, his skepticism turning to curiosity. “Sounds interesting.”
“Of course, boss!” Kyoto grinned confidently.
Michael studied Jin, as if trying to see through him. “But these two are green. I’ll have them deliver to some small-time cops. If they pay, take the money. If not, tough luck. I’m not responsible.”
Jin, silent until now, spoke up. “What? Delivering to gangsters is dangerous enough, and as newbies, the chances of them not paying are high.”
Michael’s face reddened with anger. “What do you want, you little punk?”
“At least pay us 10,000 pann for the job,” Jin said.
Michael scoffed. “Newbies don’t get extra pay. You haven’t even joined my crew. If you’re here just for money, that’s all you’ll get. End of story!”
Jin sighed heavily, prompting Michael to snap, “What’s with that attitude?”
Kyoto quickly intervened. “Calm down, boss. It’s nothing. We’ll take the job. My friend’s just like that.”
“Fine. Wait here. I’ll get the goods. After you’re done, keep your mouths shut about my organization, or you’re dead.”
Michael went inside and returned with three packages. “Kyoto’s in the crew, so I’ll pay him 1,000 pann. And this newbie had the nerve to ask for 10,000—laughable.”
Jin stared at the ground, silent.
Michael continued, “These three packages aren’t high purity. Sell them for 35,000 pann each. They’re for small-time junkies.”
Kyoto nodded and led Jin and Dertal out. In the car, Jin slammed his fist on his head, frustrated at being dismissed.
After leaving the ominous house, Kyoto drove them to his place. The room was cluttered with stacks of documents and blinking computer screens.
“I’ve got a file with the names and faces of reliable buyers. Check it out,” Kyoto said.
Dertal, still reeling from the negotiation, muttered, “35,000 pann…” Thoughts of tuition and rent swirled in his mind.
Jin sat at the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard, eyes focused on the screen. “Kyoto, why’d you say I could hack systems? I can’t do that.”
“Sorry, man. You’re so good with computers, I just assumed. Plus, you code like a hacker,” Kyoto said.
“That’s just regular coding. I study IT,” Jin replied.
“My bad. Doesn’t matter—they didn’t ask you to hack anything,” Kyoto said.
Jin scrolled through the file and found a couple listed as addicts. “Let’s deliver to these two.”
“I’ve dealt with them before. They’re reliable,” Kyoto confirmed.
Dertal’s face showed worry. “When do we deliver?”
“Tomorrow night. No rush,” Kyoto replied.
Jin asked, “What’s in these three packages?”
Kyoto explained, “They’re low-purity goods. Michael gives these to newbies to handle and make their own deals.”
Kyoto drove them home. Dertal collapsed onto his familiar bed, but his mind was restless. Was this okay? He was stepping into a dangerous world he’d never imagined. Fear and despair tangled into a chaotic mess of emotions. Closing his eyes, the image of the stack of money and Jin’s cold gaze haunted him.
Meanwhile, in another room cluttered with complex math problems and programming notes, Jin walked in. Without hesitation or concern for what had happened, he sat at his PC, launched an action game, and played to unwind, escaping reality. Eventually, he fell asleep, exhausted but with a mind full of unnamed thoughts.
Jin walked down a dark, endless road, lit only by faint yellow streetlights. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his steps heavy. When he looked up, Kyoto appeared—his only friend, his confidant, the one he trusted completely, an irreplaceable part of his life.
Suddenly, Kyoto collapsed.
A wave of terror hit Jin. He rushed forward, but before he could reach Kyoto, the ground vanished, and he plummeted into a black abyss…
Jin jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Just a dream. He exhaled, his eyes still tinged with panic and irritation.
After changing, Jin went to school. The chatter of classmates surrounded him, but he walked silently, slipping into class and taking his seat. He opened his journal, flipping through pages that repeated the same line: “Remember, the person J.J.J talks to the most is the one who matters, the one he respects.” Jin picked up his pen and wrote, “Today… February 20th…”
He tucked the journal away, planning to write more later. The school day passed like any other—lectures, coding assignments. After class, Kyoto was waiting at the door.
“Hurry up!” Kyoto said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“What’s up?” Jin asked.
“Let’s grab food at Nguyen’s diner, then make the delivery.”
Jin nodded. They went to Nguyen’s, ordered two plates of pork chop rice, and ate quickly without much talk, eager to get to the deal. Kyoto paid, waving off Jin’s offer. “I got it.”
Jin waited by the car, and Kyoto joined him. They picked up Dertal, who answered the door promptly. Without much discussion, the three drove to the addicts’ house, a rundown place with boarded-up windows.
They approached the door. Kyoto rang the bell and, after a moment, knocked. A disheveled man with dark circles under his eyes answered. “Hey?”
Kyoto held up two packages. “Two bags, 35,000 pann each. You buying?”
The man frowned. “Price went up?”
“These are better than last time. Two bags for you and your wife,” Kyoto said.
The man eyed the bags eagerly. “Deal!” He handed Kyoto two stacks of cash.
Kyoto passed them to Jin and Dertal. “Count it.”
Jin counted while glancing at the messy room, trash strewn everywhere. Dertal whispered, “They live like this?”
Jin’s count was correct, but Dertal’s was short. “Hey, it’s 5,000 pann short.”
Kyoto pulled a knife and held it to the man’s throat. “Where’s the 5,000 pann?”
“What are you doing?” Dertal said, stepping forward to intervene.
“It’s fine. I do this all the time,” Kyoto replied.
Jin frowned. “You said these guys were reliable.”
The man panicked. “Sorry, I’m out of cash today!”
“I don’t care. Where’s the 5,000?” Kyoto pressed.
The man, terrified, shouted, “Honey!”
His wife, looking just as haggard, rushed out. “What? Oh!”
“Get the money! The last 5,000 pann!” the man yelled.
She ran off, returning with the cash. Kyoto lowered the knife, and the man collapsed. Kyoto counted the money. “It’s good. Let’s go. Want the third bag?”
The couple, trembling, said, “No, we’re good.”
Kyoto nodded, handed Jin and Dertal each 35,000 pann, and they left.
“What about your third bag?” Dertal asked.
“I’ll sell it later,” Kyoto said.
Kyoto drove them home. Dertal stared at the money, not proud but relieved. Jin clutched his stack, gazing out the window.
Kyoto glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Easy, right? Wanna keep going?”
“I’m good. 35,000 pann is enough for me,” Dertal said.
“I’ll keep going,” Jin said.
Kyoto laughed. “See? Money’s not hard to make.”
Dertal was dropped off first. Back home, he sighed in relief. “Thank God, just enough for tuition.” He fell asleep.
The next morning, Dertal paid his tuition and attended classes, a weight lifted. Jin did the same. That evening, around 6 p.m., Kyoto picked up Jin, and they ate at Nguyen’s before heading to Michael’s.
Kyoto knocked. Michael answered. “What now?”
“Jin wants more work,” Kyoto said.
Michael smirked. “More, huh? Hooked on the money, are you?”
Jin stayed silent. Michael continued, “I’ve got something good. Want 200,000 pann? Deliver to Daniel. He scammed me out of 250,000 pann. Get it back, and 200,000 is yours.”
“Seriously?” Jin asked.
Michael grinned. “Dead serious.”
Kyoto whispered to Jin, “If you get it, share some with me.”
Michael handed them a high-purity bag of drugs. Kyoto stared at it. “Looks crystal clear.”
Michael said, “If you pull this off, you’re something else. Go deal.”

Kyoto and Jin drove to Daniel’s place, a graffiti-covered building. A henchman at the iron gate asked, “What’s up?”
“Delivery,” Kyoto said. The henchman nodded, leading them inside, up a staircase, and into a crowded bar. They reached a corner with another iron door, climbed more stairs, and entered a room where Daniel sat, surrounded by his men.
Daniel motioned for them to sit across from him. “Show me the goods.”
Kyoto handed over the bag. Daniel examined a piece. “Purity?”
“Don’t know. Just know it’s high-grade,” Kyoto said.
Daniel tested it, slamming the table. “Hell yeah, this is good! Who’re you working for?”
“Michael Lesley,” Kyoto replied.
Daniel nodded. “Price?”
Kyoto thought, Michael got scammed for 250,000 pann, so I’ll ask for that. “250,000 pann.”
Daniel frowned. “That’s above market price.” He paused, then said, “180,000 pann.”
“No way. Too low. I’m not selling.” Kyoto grabbed the bag and signaled Jin to leave.
As they turned, Daniel’s men blocked them. “Wait. I want that bag. You came here, you deal.”
“Raise the price, and I’ll sell,” Kyoto said.
“You trying to scam me with 250,000 pann?” Daniel snapped.
“You scammed Michael for 250,000 pann!” Kyoto shot back.
Daniel laughed coldly. “Say that again. Michael’s the one who took 250,000 from me.”
Jin’s eyes widened. Kyoto snapped, “My boss doesn’t scam. You’re the con artist.”
A henchman punched Kyoto, knocking him down. Jin moved to help but was kicked back. Kyoto signaled Jin to run, grabbing the bag and bolting, but he was caught and beaten unconscious. Jin couldn’t escape either.
When they came to, they were tied to chairs, facing Daniel.
“Awake, huh? You two think you can mess with me?” Daniel sneered.
Jin and Kyoto were dazed. Daniel punched them each. “Who’s been with Michael the longest?”
“Me,” Kyoto said.
Daniel turned to him. “You’ve been played by him too long, you idiot. You’re his loyal dog, huh?”
“I don’t know, but my boss is good,” Kyoto said.
Daniel laughed. “Good? You’re too dumb. You should die.”
He turned to Jin. “This one’s the newbie, huh?” He glanced between them. “Michael must be tired of living.”
Jin started, “If that’s the case, let us—”
Daniel cut him off. “Let you go? No chance. You messed with the wrong guy. One of you dies.”
He pointed a gun at Jin’s head. Jin’s breathing quickened.
Kyoto stammered, terrified, “Hey, what are you doing? Please don’t kill my friend!”
Daniel kept his eyes on Jin. “Newbie, huh? You probably don’t know much.”
Kyoto struggled against the ropes. “Don’t! Please, don’t kill him!”
Daniel smirked cruelly, his laugh chilling, then swung the gun to Kyoto’s head and pulled the trigger.
A deafening shot tore through the room.
Kyoto slumped, lifeless.
Jin froze. The world stopped. His eyes widened in horror, unable to process what he’d seen. He thrashed wildly, the ropes cutting into his skin, desperate to reach Daniel, but it was futile.
“Haha, he died for you!” Daniel laughed, his voice echoing in the dark basement.
Jin collapsed, still tied, his eyes locked on Kyoto’s lifeless form. His breath caught, his throat choked. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, his sobs breaking free, raw and uncontrollable. The person he valued most, his childhood friend, the only one who’d stood by him, was gone. “No! Wake up, Kyoto! Get up!”
Blood pooled from Kyoto’s body, spreading across the cold floor, reaching Jin. Their eyes—one lifeless, one broken—met in a moment of unbearable grief. Jin’s sobs filled the air, despair tearing his soul apart.
Daniel laughed maniacally. “THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LIE TO ME!”
He ordered his men to dump Jin on the street, leaving him like trash. “Deal with the dead one later,” he said, disposing of Kyoto’s body without a trace.
Jin lay on the cold sidewalk, tears mixing with his despair. Powerless, heartbroken, and alone, he was consumed by the darkness.
End of Chapter 1