by robmark0000 » Fri Apr 02, 2021 10:00 pm
Warning: offensive language.
Intro: Taylor Swift - august serves as the musical background, while the camera shows the most famous landmarks of Hugamest, the III. District (Want Street), the Field of Choice, the Great Republic Stadium, the Dáma River or the Statue of Endrődi, alternately with scenes about the protagonist Pamakla Vanda; finally the main title appears:
OOC: Crowded Hugamest is a first-person role-play novel in the Directorial Republic's Hugamest, written by RobMark, authorized hereEPISODE I - WHAT ARE YOU, VANDA?
NARRATOR: Its 4 AM, Monday. Even if in her heart she radically insist that she is sleeping, even Vanda can't decide whether she is just laying on the bed with closed eyes or actually sleeping. I don't know about you, but I don't blame her; I think every one of us would have the same problem, if we shall go to bed at 3 AM with the knowledge that the clock will alarm us in an hour. Not like if the circumstances and conditions would be better; she laid on a simple mattress absence of an actual bed, in a really tiny one-room apartment - naturally this does not helped her in relaxing her mind. She could afford a better one though, however the tuition and the clothing requirements of the Mizesz begged to differ. Anyways, enough of my monologue, because her phone just alarmed her that its indeed 4 AM.
PHONE: Playing Ode to Gladness from Zobor Botond.
VANDA: Jaj, a kurva életbe... (Turns music off.) Fuck.
NARRATOR: If you'd be a Want Street CEO who could decide whether to employ her or not, probably right now you'd be the last person Vanda would want to see her. She just walked dizzy, with a tousled hair, absence of make-up and in an almost pathetic Szőke Kinga pajamas, not like if she would particularly admire the blonde idol, but because the Szőke Kinga clothes were the cheapest ones in town.
VANDA: Okay, Vanda, everything will be fine, just get a fucking coffee kibaszott quickly! (Looking around the room, searching for coffee.)
NARRATOR: Well I can tell you, there was no coffee in the room.
VANDA: No, no, no... (Searching further. Instead of coffee, she finds a canned Rocc Cola.) Well, better than nothing.
NARRATOR: She knew her stomach will spell her for this, like Lodamese pagans do with Hobrazian priests, but at least cola was also capable of keeping her awake for a little bit, until she can have real caffeine.
VANDA: Okay, girl, next step, get yourself together.
NARRATOR: She grabbed her stuff, her make-up set, her toothbrush and her comb, and she quickly left her apartment to go to the common bathroom of the eleventh floor. She hoped nobody's there so early (even early by the working class standards), and like if destiny would compensate her for the lack of coffee, indeed nobody was there. The people living in this floor are not even prostitutes or something, so she couldn't avoid their contemptuous look sometimes when she tried to make herself look prettier, especially because others couldn't afford it. And contempt was the last thing she needed today morning. Anyways, she just started to wash her teeth, when a 50 or so years old woman suddenly appeared in the door of the bathroom.
ANNAMÁRIA: Hey.
VANDA: (Act scared.) Oh my god... You scared the shit out of me.
ANNAMÁRIA: Your suit is ready, clever bitch. I chose it.
VANDA: Ahh... I love you Auntie Marcsi. Many, many, many, many thanks. Like eternal thanks. I couldn't survive without you here.
ANNAMÁRIA: The truth is, I love you too. I don't know why, but I do. (She takes a grassy cigarette from her pocket.) This handsome little boy came to me right from Kalistan.
VANDA: Thats illegal.
ANNAMÁRIA: So what? You are voting for the People's Party now?
VANDA: No, but...
ANNAMÁRIA: Try it, bitch!
VANDA: I could be suspended for it...
ANNAMÁRIA: Try it!
VANDA: (Sigh.) Does that thing help me stay awake?
ANNAMÁRIA: The last thing it will do is making you sleep. (She lights the cigarette with a lighter. First she hears it.)
VANDA: Gimme a slukk then.
NARRATOR: When Vanda also sniffed the cigarette, she felt something that people could usually describe as good. It was the first time in four days, after working her brain off on essays in the weekend. And for the record, it was really better than even coffee. Her brain was so weak after that lot of writing, that it even couldn't show a proper protest against her heart, when it came to the cigarette. She knew that if the University orders general drug tests, then she will be suspended, however she does not really cared about it in that particular moment. How stupid! She can screw her entire life because of a random common grassing in a dirty bathroom, for literally no reason. This thought made her laugh loudly, possibly with the significant help of the drug.
ANNAMÁRIA: (Starts to laugh as well and takes back the cigarette.) You see? This is good stuff. Its not the work of coincide that the Kalistanis know what they're doing.
VANDA: Jaj...
ANNAMÁRIA: (Looking at Vanda slowly and act like if she would analyzing her.) What are you, Vanda?
VANDA: Excuse me?
ANNAMÁRIA: I am serious, what are you?
VANDA: What do you mean? (Looks weirdly at Annamária.)
ANNAMÁRIA: I mean... I can't fucking decide what are you. During the day, you are at the other side of the river, and gang with the finest of Doctor Ed, like literally being among the assholes who are working us to fucking death. Then you are coming home here, trying to sniff that grey something they ironically call "air", like us; what are you? A bourgeois, a prole...
VANDA: Aunite Marcsi, do you have a problem with me?
ANNAMÁRIA: Girl, I could literally kill you if I'd have a problem with you. You goddamn know that basically everybody from the thirteenth to the seventh floors belongs to me, I am the boss here. Thats a fact. And here is an another: you are fucking sympathetic to me. Yet an another girl born into poverty and trying to make herself a damn name. But I can't totally like you until I have to imagine the picture that someday you might become someone, who will put others to poverty, like this, cutting them from any possibility, just to make herself richer.
VANDA: Auntie Marcsi...
ANNAMÁRIA: Don't even start that politician bullshit! You are not there yet. You are speaking to me now.
NARRATOR: The air was tense. She learned corporate strategy, corporate law, profit-oriented economics and marketing at Mizesz, of course she will eventually become that "someone". And she does not know how to hide, or even whether to hide or not from Annamária. The older woman was some kind of leader in the upper floors of the residential block, someone other working class people listened to. Even the decision that the community accepts Vanda as one of them, was made because of Annamária. The younger girl owed the another one a lot. She was like mother to her in the past one and a half year since she is at Hugamest.
VANDA: What I can promise from the bottom of my heart, that I will never forget where I came from. I'll never. (She grabbed Annamária's hands.)
ANNAMÁRIA: (Looking in the eye of Vanda at length, and then hug her.) Its all I ask for.
VANDA: I'll never...
ANNAMÁRIA: I just needed to know, girl, that you are a good or a bad person. And you are definitely a good one. Being a good or a bad person is not up to your actions. I mean god damn it, this is the Directorial Republic! We all doing bad shit all the time. You know, I killed people, I stolen form people and stuff like that, but do you know why I think I am a person that furry asshole in the skies will not send to the hell immediately? Because when you arrived, basically my younger self, I knew I shall help you no matter what. My meaning... you can do shit all the time you want. But if you find a person worthy, like I did with you, be a fucking good person and take care of her.
VANDA: I will. I promise.
ANNAMÁRIA: You swear?
VANDA: (Sigh.) I do.
ANNAMÁRIA: Nice. Sorry for this lecture, but I needed you to know this. (Look at the clock.) Fuck, its 5 AM, do your stuff before the others wake up and disturb you.
VANDA: I am on it.
ANNAMÁRIA: Imma bring your suits. (Left the bathroom.)
VANDA: Thanks!
NARRATOR: The residential block, where Vanda lived in, was located in the VIII. District, the most populated, but also poorest one in Hugamest. It was called by many names, "Industrial Quarter", "Queen of Mest" or "Southern Coastlines", but what it really was is the weird and miserable mix of thousands of factories and poorly managed residential blocks where millions of workers lived with their families, longing for the life beyond the Dáma. What is a light year for them, that is just a usual hour for Vanda however; she spent most of her week on the mythical "other side", especially because the Mizesz was located in the I. District. She usually used the LVC9 subway line for this, that was of course under the Dáma river and led from the VIII. District Balogh Márkó Metro Station to the I. District Field of Choice Metro Station. And most importantly it was cheap enough, the prizes were adjusted to the wallet of the workers.
CALLER: L.V.C. Serving as your most loyal partner in public transportation since centuries. Buy your season ticket for the ninth subway line for only €200 per a month. Because we care about you enough to always make you arrive in time. (The mainstream commercial voice changes to an actual female voice.) Polgártársak, the 6 AM flight to the Field of Choice Metro Station arrived to the third way station. Please be careful around the third way station, don't go further than the yellow line. The Lehel Vehicular Centre wish you a nice trip.
COFFEE SELLER: Original vanilla coffee for the miss! It'll be €1.25.
VANDA: (Hears the caller.) For fuck's sake... Ne már! (Desperately run towards the metro, with the coffee in her hand.)
COFFEE SELLER: Polgártársnő, you forget to pay!
VANDA: I am sorry, I really am, next time I'll be here I'll pay a double prize, I promise! (Runs further.)
COFFEE SELLER: Stop right there! You don't hear me?! Stop right there! Officers! Someone, an officer! An officer, please! That bitch is stealing my private property! Did you proles heard about the Right to Private Property Act, or are you so stupid to live under a cave in the past fucking centuries? Ah, man...
NARRATOR: The coffee seller was a typical lower middle class Endralonian. They had an arguably decent family undertaking, like the small coffee shop for this one, and than they immediately thought they're some Want Street CEOs "building up the Directorial Republic". Since they were the majority of the society, the lower middle class, the support for the existing hypercapitalist system was stable as iron; the working class was noticeably small compared to other countries, since the Endralonian companies usually preferred foreign, cheaper workforce across the world, while the middle classes had their wealth and capital to operate own undertakings thanks to the extremely great amount of money entering Endralon every single year. Even Mizesz Lajos couldn't plan the system better. The only losers of it were the working class minority, like Vanda's parents or the folks at the VIII. District, who as presented, lived under bad conditions, but they were far, really far from enough to actually do something even if they would want. Because lot of them didn't want; especially the patriotic ones. But enough of sociology, I bet Vanda's story is more interesting. Absence of officers, she successfully ran away and in the last minute entered the vehicle that was fulled with people.
VANDA: (Walks throughout the crowd on the metro.) Sorry, sorry, elnézést, please! Oops, yeah, a little space, thank you, köszi!
PASSENGER: Damn dude, just stay at one place for God's sake!
VANDA: Sure thing, sure thing. (She finds herself a clean space in front of a window. She leans against the window and start drinking the coffee.) Minden oké...
NARRATOR: However the Lehel Vehicular Centre was mostly specialized for rural lands, it often undertook the subway lines between the Mest-side and the Huga-side, especially because it was something the great urban rival, the Dudva Private Transportation Vehicles Company would never do. Despite the fact that the current vehicle was fulled with people, the subway lines under the Dáma river were definitely not popular. The tourists always visited the Huga-side and the workers from the Mest-side couldn't really afford anything in the downtown, so they usually didn't even go there; plus the prizes were almost obligatory to be cheap so the few poor people who still wants to use it, like Vanda, could afford it. From a business perspective, it was terrible, of course the DPTV never took it, however the LVC needed it for marketing to say that they're not a rural company and that they're operating "everywhere" - the DPTV does not really let other spaces for the LVC in urban areas. Anyways, Vanda just saw one of the private conductors, a 30 or so years old woman, walking in the crowd and trying to check as many tickets as she can. The girl had a season ticket for this summer, so she didn't buy any particular one-trip tickets when she was at the Balogh Station. She realized that the conductor will probably reach her before she could step down at the Field of Choice Station, so she checked her bag to take her season ticket out. Mobile phone, textbooks, Directorial Republic ID, University card, house key, but apparently the season ticket wasn't there...
VANDA: What? Shit! (Searching further.)
NARRATOR: After desperate seconds, she realized that she probably left that thing at home, and quickly after that she realized an another thing too, namely that she is illegally using the private property of the Lehel Vehicular Centre, which is a violation of the law. If this would be an ordinary day, this thing would mean nothing. However if you commit a crime, no matter how small it is, then the Mizesz will order an investigation on you, that often includes drug tests. Drug. Tests.
VANDA: I am so fucking stupid... (Facepalm.)
NARRATOR: She tried to find a possible solution. She brought up her phone and searched for the website of the LVC. A normal one-trip ticket bought at the Balogh Station was €0.95, however if you buy it from the conductor on trip, it was €3.99. She quickly took out her wallet, but she unfortunately saw that after she bought the coffee, only three Endrals remained there. She needed one more.
VANDA: Excuse me, could you give me one Endral? It'd help me a lot! (She asked the 70 years old woman standing next to her, however the woman ignored her.) Hey, kid, do you have an Endral? (Now she asks a teenager boy listening to music through a headset.)
TEENAGER BOY: Hmm? (Turns off music.)
VANDA: Do you have an Endral?
TEENAGER BOY: I mean, if you suck my dick...
VANDA: (Angry face.) I hope some AEFNS barbarians will rape the shit out of your ass one day.
TEENAGER BOY: Whatever. (He shurgs, turn music on again.)
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: (Looks at Vanda.) Polgártársnő, can I see your tickets?
NARRATOR: Yeah that was it. Probably she will tell the conductor that she has no tickets, the woman will ask for her data, she will give those to her. The violation will be uploaded to the Law Enforcement Data Base of the Directorial Republic, which will immediately indicate this to the Mizesz Lajos Economic and Sociopolitical University. At the University building, two professors will waiting for her, tasked with the job to investigate her "credibility" in the name of the institution. And they will do alcohol and drug tests, and when those tests' results arriving, it will be clear that she took recreational drugs. After the University bureaucracy realizes this, they will set up a special committee dealing with her and probably verdict that the Mizesz and Pamakla Vanda should break their contract.
VANDA: (Pale.) I'm...
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: Are you okay?
NARRATOR: This is the end of my life, she thought. She had a clear picture how that many dreams and hopes will end. How the picture of a corporate leader will suddenly change to one of the physical workers of Annamária in the VIII. District, damned to eternal poverty and ignorance.
PATRIK: Kalauz polgártársnő, excuse me!
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: Yes?
PATRIK: Do you accept credit cards?
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: Of course.
PATRIK: I'd like to buy two one-trip tickets, one for myself, and one for the polgártársnő. (Points at Vanda.)
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: Sure.
NARRATOR: Vanda did not know who is this guy, neither his name or his origin. But he was about to literally save her life, even if probably he does not know it. She just stood there like a dick, doing absolutely nothing, while the private conductor given a device to the boy, so he could complete the micro-transaction. Vanda could see the numbers on the credit card of the man's, its first four numbers were 3625, so it was a Financial Bank of Liberty account. She tried to remember to the other numbers too, because she wanted to identify the guy after this incident.
PRIVATE CONDUCTOR: Micro-transaction of €7.98 from your account to the Lehel Vehicular Centre's is done. Thank you, polgártárs! Have a nice trip!
NARRATOR: After the private conductor went forward to harass someone else, Patrik stayed there, which was of course the assumption of Vanda since the guy first said that he wants to buy a ticket for she as well.
VANDA: Who the fuck are you?
PATRIK: (Smiling.) This is a nice way to thank me, after all.
VANDA: Is this some weird "man savior complex"? If yes, just let you know, I wouldn't need it.
PATRIK: I would do it for every men, women and non-binary who wears that mark. (Points at the coat of arms of the Mizesz on Vanda's suit.)
VANDA: Mizesz?
PATRIK: Oh, Heaven's yes.
CALLER: A következő megálló a Választás Tere Metróállomás az Első Kerületben. (Repeats it on Luthorian.) The next stop is at the Field of Choice Metro Station in the I. District.
VANDA: Yep, thats my stop. You know what... Thanks.
PATRIK: Your welcome, haha. Bye!
VANDA: Bye!
NARRATOR: The guy had a weird aura, his head was mainly hidden by a hood, and the expensive-looking The Fashion Company sets he worn made him being a large exception in the mainly working or middle class majority using the metro's services. This thing made Vanda more resolute to find out who was it, through the credit card number. 3625 8852 9637. She was good with numbers and when she arrived at the Field of Choice Station she immediately wrote it down to her phone.
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: The famous and recognized Lourennais journalist Georges Cuillere wrote the next about the Directorial Republic in his article published by the L'Opinion Stellaire in January, 4869. (Reading from a tablet.) "Will they be a major player? Perhaps... But that will only happen after they quit fetishing its most holy CEOs." What do you think, what was his meaning?
NARRATOR: Economic history class. There was a joke between socialist academic scholars that History and Economic History shouldn't be separate subjects in Endralon, because everything the Directorial Republic did during its existence related to financial interests.
STUDENT: He meant that only a strongly organized State with a seriously regulated market could advance on the world stage, so the pre-condition of Endralon's elevation is the "quitting of fetishizing CEOs" or in Syldavian, the regulation of the markets and the Endralonian companies.
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Excellent answer. Thank you, Jozefa! Any other thoughts?
LODAMESE EXCHANGE STUDENT: (Apply to answer with lifting his right hand.) Professor!
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Enlighten us, Mr. Gardner!
LODAMESE EXCHANGE STUDENT: (Stand up and clears his throat.) I think he meant the obvious, that your entire system is flawed. (Everybody in the classroom laughing, including Vanda, the Professor and the Lodamese.)
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Thank you for this really constructive response, Mr. Gardner.
LODAMESE EXCHANGE STUDENT: Your welcome!
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Okay, it was more than enough socialism for today. In this class, while the others will listening to my presentation, a few students will form two groups. The first group shall be choosen by Jozefa, and they should collect arguments that Cuillere's theory is correct. The second group will naturally be tasked with arguing that it is incorrect.
STUDENT: Who will choose the second group?
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Let's see... (Looking around the class.)
VANDA: Not me, please. (Whispering just for herself.)
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Vanda!
VANDA: Basszameg. (Ends whispering, starts talking loudly.) Yes, Professor?
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: You'll choose the second group. Both Jozefa's team and Vanda's team have one hour to collect the arguments and there will be a disputatio after that before the entire class. The winners of the debate will be decided by the class itself through a voting, and the reward will be that the victors could skip an exam from economc history in this semester. Good luck both! For the others: today we will start a new large topic, namely the affect of the AEFNS' actions on the Endralonian and Artanian economies, starting from 4870. Please open your textbooks on Page 184.
NARRATOR: Others would probably kill for the specific attention of Halné, "the modern wife of Mizesz", however Vanda, who was almost constantly awake since the Friday of the past week, didn't really felt optimistic about this project. However she did what she had to, and started to choose among the students she thought could really help her in this situation. While the others tried to listen to the presentation of the Professor, Jozefa and Vanda were allowed to walk around the benches and call the students they've chosen.
VANDA: Okay, uhm, Réka! Kozma Réka!
RÉKA: (Smiling.) At your service.
NARRATOR: Ms. Kozma, the Szőke-like cute blondie, who's appearance represents literally nothing from her soul. A daughter of two corporate lawyers who usually representing mega-corporations in court against workers, she inherited two things: immediate unsymphaty once she starts to speak, and that there is literally no thing, none on Terra, she couldn't make look true.
VANDA: Olivér? (Whispers to Réka.)
RÉKA: Agreed.
VANDA: Bodnár Olivér!
OLIVÉR: I am on my way, Miss VIII. District! (Walks to Réka's bench.)
RÉKA: Asshole.
VANDA: Go back, Oli!
OLIVÉR: (Theatrically.) I beg for forgiveness, I hope the polgártársnő can forgive me. Please forgive me!
RÉKA AND VANDA: (Both laughing.)
NARRATOR: If there is an universal contempt against anything that is poorer than you, its called Bodnár Olivér. It is mainly the result that he was raised in a Sárközy hotel, in a foreign country, basically like an ancient Selucian patrician. He was even Anluanist. Everything his family had, related to the Sárközy family, because his father had a romantic relationship with one of the famously homosexual Sárközy boys. However it was Olivér's own merit that he had a capability to analyze quickly even extremely difficult situations. This is why he was also one of the best people for this job.
RÉKA: Aight, who's next?
NARRATOR: And then Vanda suddenly realized something. There is a boy named Borbély Ákos in the class, who is really kind-hearted, but stupid as fuck. The only reason he is here is because her mother is a leading banker at the Financial Bank of Liberty and she is paying the Professors well to don't fail her only son. Even with this, the boy is really on the border of suspension and staying because of his "achievements", he could definitely use this project, so he don't have to write an exam he would probably fail. He would be grateful and maybe even search for Vanda the origins of the bank account the guy on the metro had.
VANDA: Borbély Ákos!
RÉKA: What the fuck?!
OLIVÉR: Vandi, even Smelly Kasper has more IQ than that guy! What the fuck, indeed?!
VANDA: Its my decision. We'll still win, though.
OLIVÉR: Insane...
ÁKOS: (Walks to the bench of Réka's.) Hey, I honestly couldn't dare to hope that I will be chosen, but I am really grateful.
OLIVÉR: It was the first coherent sentence you've said in your entire life, I bet.
ÁKOS: (Starts to stutter.) But... but... but...
RÉKA: Okay, enough of this! Proceed. (They sit to the bench.)
NARRATOR: The working in group was not hard. Ákos mostly just stayed quite and just watched what the others doing, while the other three actually worked. During the one hour of preparing, mostly Vanda and Olivér were active, they collected arguments and analyzed them, read the entire article, searched after Cuillere's life on the wiki, and compared the Endralonian hypercapitalist system to other existing, regulated markets. Once the hour ended, Réka took the charge and became the main spokeperson for the team. During the debate, she basically just played a role, however she did it so goddamn well that it made even Jozefa voice-crack sometimes. With the support of Olivér and Vanda in the background, actually Réka won the disputatio for the group, after the students of the class voted for their side and arguments, 87-32.
CALLER: (Marking the end of the class with a music.)
OLIVÉR: (Walking out from the class.) Booom, bitchees! Who's the next fucking Boros Erik?
VANDA: You have to born a Boros.
OLIVÉR: You ruining my fun. Anyways, instead of learning for that exam, I will fuck as many proletarian girls as I can.
RÉKA: Sexist.
OLIVÉR: And proletarian boys too.
RÉKA: Elitist.
OLIVÉR: Thanks for the compliment! It means I am elite.
RÉKA: If there is a thing called "Elite of the Jerks", you definitely are.
OLIVÉR: You don't have to be so hostile, or maybe are you jealous of those proletarian fuckmates of mine?
RÉKA: Pff... (Leaving the class.)
OLIVÉR: Wait, Rékuci, you hear me? (Running after Réka, leaving the class as well.)
NARRATOR: Vanda and Ákos stayed at the door.
ÁKOS: (Confused.) I really thank you for this oppor... oppor... opportunity.
VANDA: Very welcome, Áki.
ÁKOS: Is there a way I can thank you?
VANDA: Actually there is one... But it is a little bit, you know, shady.
ÁKOS: Shady?
VANDA: You live in your mother's villa, right?
ÁKOS: Right.
VANDA: And you know your mother's password for her laptop or computer?
ÁKOS: Uhm... I do.
NARRATOR: Vanda right now felt something that is the mix of "FUCK YE" and "YEEEES".
VANDA: I know your mother is a banker, and the truth is today I found a credit card on the street that is probably registered in your mom's bank. I would like to give it back to the original owner, can you help me in this?
ÁKOS: Oh, that is so sweet of you!
VANDA: Can you?
ÁKOS: Sure. Why don't come yourself as well?
VANDA: Good idea. (About to leave the door.)
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Vanda! Would you have a minute?
VANDA: Is this really urgent, Professor?
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: It is.
VANDA: (Disappointedly look at Ákos.) Can you do it and call me with the result?
ÁKOS: No problem. I'll do it. And gratitude again.
VANDA: No, I thank you. (Ákos leaves, Vanda goes to the Professor's bench.)
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Its good to see that you are active again. I still think you neglected economic history in the past few weeks, though.
VANDA: I am sorry, Professor, but Professor Oláh and Professor Csonka went insane in the near past. I couldn't leave any marketing classes without having to write five new essays.
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Well, it won't be better in the III. District either. Outside that there you shall worry for your money instead of grades.
VANDA: I know, Professor and I am not complaining, just... I am sorry if you feel I neglected economic history.
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: I don't know whether you realized it or not, but you failed to present an essay that you should deliver until last Saturday. (Searching in her tablet.) It was titled How to maximize profits in developing countries based on the experiences of the past, and every TOP students delivered it except you.
VANDA: Oof... I...
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: Considering you are one of my favorite students here, I give you no more than one day to deliver it. I know thats not enough time to write an A, but maybe you will get away with an F, and I don't have to fail you.
VANDA: Thank you very much, Professor!
PROFESSOR HALNÉ: You can leave now.
NARRATOR: Since it was Vanda's last class that day, she gladly left the building, but she didn't go home yet. She had a job in a luxury III. District Yingdalan restaurant, where she served as a waitress and collected enough money to pay for the University. When she was on her way from the I. District to the III. District through a DPTV metro, she got the call she long awaited from Ákos.
ÁKOS: (On phone.) Okay, I logged in for my mom's laptop, I am at the desktop, what should I do?
VANDA: (On phone.) Okay, thats good. Is there any files on the desktop with something about "data" or "accounts"?
ÁKOS: (On phone.) There is one named Bank accounts data base.
VANDA: (On phone.) Thats the one!
ÁKOS: (On phone.) I clicked. There are a lot of numbers here!
VANDA: (On phone.) I know, I know. Is there a search engine within the file?
ÁKOS: (On phone.) Yep, there is one.
VANDA: (On phone.) Cool! Then enter the next numbers: 3-6-2-5-pause-8-8-5-2-pause-9-6-3-7.
ÁKOS: (On phone.) Lets see, it says that this number belongs to a person named Vass Patrik.
NARRATOR: Vass Patrik?! The grandson of the current CEO of the Financial Bank of Liberty Vass Viktor? What did he do alone without private bodyguards, with a hood on his head, with a credit card that probably consist millions? On a public metro? It was weird as hell.
VANDA: (On phone.) Okay, thanks, I will send it back to him.
ÁKOS: (On phone.) But how will you know his address, wai... (Vanda hangs up the phone.)
NARRATOR: What. The. Fuck.
PRIVATE TECHNOLOGIST: Four of the survialled accounts made a micro-transaction at the same at 6:11 AM, one at the Buy and Use Corporation plaza in the Krén Subdistrict of the IV. District for €10.30, one on the LVC9 subway line under the Dáma for €7.98, one at the Buy and Use Corporation plaza in the Conquest Subdistrict of the X. District for €4.00, and one at a florist owned by a small business named Augusztusi Virágok/Flowers of August in the Green Subdistrict of the I. District for €20.10; exactly in the same time, like how they did it in the past.
MAIN OVERSEER: Security cameras?
PRIVATE TECHNOLOGIST: There were cameras in the two B&U plazas, those transactions were clearly made with online hacking, to deceive us. There are no cameras on the vehicles themselves, however there are some at the Metro Stations, but I couldn't find him either at the Balogh or the Field of Choice Stations. If he even use metro, he never lands anywhere. No cameras at the florist.
MAIN OVERSEER: You suspect the florist?
PRIVATE TECHNOLOGIST: I think the public would already realize a man who never leaves the vehicle, and there is no sign of something like that on the internet.
MAIN OVERSEER: Is this like "PMC-sure"?
PRIVATE TECHNOLOGIST: It is.
MAIN OVERSEER: Mrs. Vass will be satisfied with your work.
TO BE CONTINUED. EPISODE 2 WILL BE RELEASED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
OOC: I know this might be uneccessary or ineffective, however I would like to write it regardless. No matter that you are just a visitor of the site or a player, please do not present this or a modified version of it as your own work anywhere. It is my first serious non-Hungarian story and if there is even one people who likes it, I'd like to get the credit for it. Thank you in advance!
Et jamais je ne pleur et jamais je ne ris (Baudelaire)
