"Customer, you have reached your destination," a female voice announced inside the car.

  A young man stirred in the backseat, rousing from a deep sleep.

  He sat upright, stretched, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  "Thank you," he murmured to no one in particular as he stepped out of the driverless vehicle.

  The taxi glided away, weaving through the posh streets lined with gardens and towering trees.

  With a guitar bag slung over his shoulder, the boy took in his surroundings. The vibrant greenery blended seamlessly with the Neo-Renaissance architecture, each building a masterpiece in its own right. The sweet scent of flowers and fresh leaves filled the air, making his nose wrinkle slightly. He hadn’t expected such a place to exist in District-9.

  His gaze landed on the grand gate before him, embedded within a five-meter-tall wall that barely concealed the sprawling, extravagant Minka beyond it.

  He waited patiently for his relatives to open the gate.

  As he stood there, a small girl in a maid costume bumped into him, skipping along without a care.

  "Sorry, mister!" she chirped, bowing cutely.

  "It's okay," he said with a smile, patting her head.

  Giggling, the girl resumed her skipping, vanishing down the path.

  The main gate opened, revealing an elderly butler who greeted him with a deep bow.

  "Welcome, Takeshi-sama. I will take you to the lord," the old man said.

  Kuramoto Takeshi followed the butler through the well-maintained garden surrounding the pagoda-style mansion. The soft murmur of a nearby stream blended with the chirping of birds, creating a peaceful atmosphere. As they walked along the stone-paved path, Takeshi noticed a pond reflecting the sky, with koi fish swimming beneath the surface. The air carried the faint scent of pine and fresh earth.

  Approaching the main house, Takeshi glanced at the traditional wooden structure with its dark beams and sloping roof. A cherry blossom tree stood near the entrance, its petals scattered on the ground, adding a touch of color to the otherwise muted tones of the estate.

  Stepping inside, Takeshi was met with three familiar faces.

  "Takeshi-kun! How have you been? Did you have any trouble getting here?" A balding middle-aged man in a yukata stepped forward, grasping Takeshi’s shoulders before pulling him into a firm hug.

  "I'm well, Uncle. Thanks to the taxi you booked, I had no trouble getting here from the shuttle station," Takeshi assured him, returning the embrace.

  "That’s good to hear, isn’t it, dear?" A woman dressed in a matching yukata smiled, nudging the young boy beside her.

  The boy, no older than twelve, nodded before rushing forward to wrap his arms around Takeshi.

  "Hello, Onii-chan!"

  "Hey, Hiro-chan. How have you been?" Takeshi asked, ruffling the boy’s hair.

  "I'm great! I can't wait to play with you!" Hiro beamed.

  Takeshi chuckled. Hiro had always been clingy, even though they were only cousins.

  His uncle watched the interaction fondly before turning back to Takeshi.

  "I'm sorry for calling you here on such short notice, Takeshi-kun. You must be busy," he said apologetically.

  Takeshi shook his head. "It’s no problem, Uncle."

  "Ahem, shall we go fetch some tea for Takeshi-kun, Hiro-chan?" the calm-looking woman suggested.

  "Okay, Mom!" Hiro shouted, following her into the house.

  With a sigh, his uncle lowered himself onto the tatami mat and motioned for Takeshi to do the same.

  "I'm sure your parents have already told you, but let me go over the situation again. The Flare family is heading to the U.S. next month, and it’s our responsibility to coordinate with the other families to maintain our standing in the NTA. We can’t allow rival factions to take advantage of this transition. More than ever, we need to strategize carefully—there will be more rats than usual this year," he explained.

  Takeshi nodded. He was already well aware of the situation.

  "I'm assuming the other families have finalized their rosters?" he asked.

  "Most of them. A few are still undecided, but they’ll be ready soon," his uncle replied.

  "No Flares… This year will be different," Takeshi muttered, rubbing the faint stubble on his chin.

  His uncle gave him a peculiar look.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Haven't you heard?"

  Takeshi frowned. "Heard what?"

  "Two descendants from the main family will be participating," his uncle said.

  The main family.

  A shiver ran down Takeshi’s spine.

  ********

  The afternoon sun lazily shines over the trees as Virav and I stand in front of a familiar garden.

  I smugly smile at a tiny figure.

  "Your secret's out, you little shit," I gloat at the robot maid.

  Virav looks at me uncomfortably. Is there something on my face?

  I ignore his concerned look and stare down at the stupid face before me.

  "We know it's your name on the tree! You wrote it! Muahahaha! You stupid little robot, this is why you'll never take over us humans!" I mock.

  I point at my head. "Your brain's not fast enough! Your IQ is so low! Goddamn!" I grin ecstatically.

  The little robot just blinks at me, as if I'm speaking an alien language.

  "Hey, bro. Chill out. She was just following her orders," Virav says.

  I get frustrated at its blank face. "Are you too dumb to even understand me?! Maybe your owners should dispose of your defective ass and buy a proper robot!" I try to provoke it.

  "Sniff."

  "Huh?"

  "Waaaaaaah!!!" The rascal starts crying, bawling its eyes out.

  "W-what are you doing?" My eyes nearly pop out as tears roll down its face.

  Virav quickly hugs the robot and pats its head. "Shhhh, don't cry. I'm really sorry if we hurt you. Don't let that meanie bully you," he consoles it.

  "I didn't do it! Waaaaaaahhh!!" The shitty robot cries as it clings to Virav.

  "Yes, yes. I believe you. You're a good kid," he continues consoling it.

  It almost looks like I'm the villain here.

  Not almost—definitely.

  I look around, noticing some pedestrians staring at us.

  "H-Hello there, folks! This robot just bumped her toe into a corner and got hurt. Crazy how advanced technology has become, huh?" I blatantly lie.

  Their disapproving eyes grow colder. A faint sound of tongues clicking rings in my ears. Some shake their heads as they continue on with their business.

  It's over.

  All these wealthy and powerful people have seen me act like a lunatic. I'm done for. No reputable company will hire me. My college will expel me. I'll be removed from the NTA.

  As my life flashes before my eyes, Virav finally calms the piece of shit down.

  "We're sorry for the trouble, okay? We'll be going now," Virav says as he gets up from his knees.

  "Sniff. I'm sorry, mister," the robot says to Virav, clearly ignoring my presence as it rubs its puffy eyes.

  "It's okay, it's not your fault." Virav smiles apologetically.

  "By the way, I never got your name. I'm Virav," he says, extending his hand.

  The robot shakes his hand and replies, "My name is Maria."

  "Okay then, Maria. We'll be going now. Kevin, apologize to her before we go," Virav says.

  I look at the little shit staring at me.

  I show it the middle finger and turn around, walking away.

  Zzzzttt!

  Suddenly, the world flips upside down as I slam onto the snow-white pavement. If I hadn't caught my fall in time, my head would’ve split open.

  A sharp jolt runs through my legs, and my calves spasm lightly from the electricity.

  I turn around and see that little bastard smirking, its hand extended in the shape of a gun with sparks dancing on its fingertips.

  Goddammit.

  ********

  "It's your fault, bruh. You could've just apologized," Virav says as we walk through our usual alley, heading home.

  What? Getting tased was my fault? And why should I be the one apologizing to that ill-mannered robot?

  "Seriously, how is that my fault? And how can that robot even tase me like that? Doesn't it violate human rights or something? I should report this to the police," I argue.

  "The cops will lock you up first for verbally abusing a child," he says.

  What's this guy on about?

  "That's a fucking robot, man. It's not human," I retort.

  He sighs. "Don't fool around. You know very well that a lot of robots are at least semi-conscious. Take ABBies, for example. You can't just treat them like that."

  Seriously? What’s he saying? Is he high?

  "It's fake consciousness. A shitty imitation. They're supposed to be assistants, and if they can't do their job properly, what's the point in keeping them?" I argue.

  "Kev, there's a ton of research suggesting AI might be conscious. The NSI, Indat University, MindLabs—countless organizations are dedicated to studying it. You don't have to take my word for it. Just look up their papers," he explains.

  Geez, you're so ignorant, man.

  "Bah, it's all bullshit. Half of those papers don’t even have useful information. Just a bunch of PhD-hungry bastards publishing whatever nonsense they can. Besides, we don't even have a proper definition for human consciousness—what the fuck are they doing investigating AI consciousness?" I scoff.

  "You're just too stubborn. Have you even tried reading any article about it? Try to be open-minded, will you? This narrow thinking will get you nowhere—let alone through the NTA," he lectures.

  Why’re you attacking me?

  "What the hell, man? That fucking robot gave us so much trouble, and you're blaming me? That little bitch even zapped me!" My temper flares.

  "Bro, that's your fault. She's just behaving like a kid. She doesn't know any better," he says.

  So it's my fault that I got zapped?

  "You know what? Fuck you. You can shove that robot up your ass. Oh, and don't forget all the bitches you're fucking—shove them up your ass, too," I snap, jealousy spilling from my mouth like venom.

  "So that's what this is about? You not being able to talk to girls?" He narrows his eyes, clearly annoyed.

  "No, son of a bitch! It's not about the girls!" I shout, not even believing my own words.

  "You need to work on your insecurity, Kev. You're better than this," he says, his voice steady.

  This sick holier-than-thou attitude...

  "I'm sick of your pretentious bullshit, you son of a bitch," I spit.

  His face twists with anger.

  "Fine, then, you pathetic bastard. Have fun investigating those NTA hoaxes on your own. I shouldn't have wasted my time on you. You're just a good-for-nothing, insecure creep," he says, stepping off my bike and shoving it to the ground before walking away.

  I watch his back as he exits the alley, heading home.

  I am disgusting.

  I sigh, picking up my bicycle from the ground.

  "Ah!" I yelp as my hand touches something hot.

  I glance at the handlebars—part of the rubber grip has melted.

  I have to replace them.

  ********

  I lay on my bed with the door open, alone in the house. The lights are off, and the curtains are drawn shut.

  Mom said she was visiting old friends, but I doubt that. She’s probably job hunting.

  I turn my head and find my phone next to my pillow, an explicit video playing. I stare at the voluptuous woman on the screen, moaning as a muscular man pounds her.

  I close the website, open YT, and click on a random video without even reading the title.

  I lay there, with my own ejaculate stuck all over my body, too apathetic to wash up or even reach for a tissue. A sickening sight, really.

  The video plays in the background, blabbering something about the NTA. I couldn't care less.

  This is exactly what I did after coming back from District-10 yesterday too. Instead of preparing for the NTA, I wasted my time like this.

  Virav and the other applicants have been training for this their whole lives—learning music, painting, sports, dancing, martial arts, you name it. And here I am, rotting in my own filth, drowning in my porn addiction like a loser.

  I should just skip the assessment.

  Maybe I’d be better off finding a part-time job.

  2 days left for the commencement of the NTA.