"Bye, mom. I'm leaving for college.", A handsome boy said to the shopkeeper of a small store while walking towards the road. This was Bishal.
"Wait, come here for a second.", the woman called. She looked like she was in her late thirties. Her slightly haggard face still had traces of beauty. Just by looking at her face, you could tell that she was a beauty in her youth.
"Yea?", Bishal asked with uncertainty as he didn't look directly at his mother.
Sarita opened the register and took out two thousand-rupee
One thousand is roughly 10 dollars.
notes and handed them to Bishal, "Take this. It's your birthday. You're going to need it."
BIshal stayed at his place without any intentions of taking the money, "I have enough money. I saved some money."
"Hmm. Okay.", Sarita nodded and didn't say much as she looked at Bishal's back walking away from her.
Tears filled her eyes as she thought back to the things Bishal had to suffer from childhood. Bishal's father had eloped with Sarita and settled in Kathmandu. They were pretty young at that time and their parents didn't agree to the two of them as they were from different castes.
Things had been smoothed with their respective families after Bishal was born, but alas when Bishal was just 5 years old, Bishal's father, Gautam died in an accident. It was not really any deep mystery death. It was a simple road accident. It broke the delicate relationship they had with Gautam's family.
Sarita didn't just lose hope and used the compensation money got from the accident to rent a store facade and opened a small grocery store. It wasn't much but considering the population of Kathmandu, it was enough for their family of two to sustain.
As they say, children from poor households mature early. It was the case for Bishal too. Well, the truth is that children from poor households either mature or just fall into a quagmire of bad activities ranging from violence to addiction.
Depends on who they were raised by and what sort of environment they lived in. Sarita had always been strict with Bishal in terms of character. Bishal would get beaten with a stick if he didn't respect his elders. In childhood, Bishal did it to be safe from the beatings he would get, but as he grew older he knew why his mom did what she did. You can't just raise a child with love. You need to punish him when he's doing wrong things and reward him when he does good. A stick in one hand and a chocolate in another, I suppose.
Bishal walked along the street as he contemplated whether to go to college or not. He had obviously lied. Even though, he had found a job. The money he had earned was almost all used just to pay his college fees.
He had lied at home and the college fees were twice of what he had said at home. Bishal had been working, saving up and paying half of his college fees while the rest half was paid by Sarita. Bishal knew that if he didn't do so, Sarita wouldn't mind but their lives would be miserable. He didn't want to go to college while his mom had to go around borrowing money from people.
Bishal looked at the balance displayed on the bank app that showed 10 dollars and sighed while walking towards the ATM. He took out the last last 10 dollars as he walked towards a tea house where he usually had tea and cigarettes.
Smoking cigarettes was what he had picked up recently. It seemed to calm him down.
"Not going to college today?", The hostess asked as she handed two cigarettes to Bishal. This was what he always ordered, and the lady was obviously familiar with Bishal.
"No, I don't feel like going.", Bishal replied with a smile.
"Happy Birthday.", Nikki said as she took out a small cupcake and handed it to Bishal.
"Thank you, didi.", Bishal smiled and blew the candle on top of the cupcake and ate it while going inside to find a seat. Bishal always frequented this shop, even before he had started smoking cigarettes. Bishal didn't have many friends and usually stayed at this tea house on the day of his birthday i.e. 5th of July.
Didi means elder sister.
Bishal had just sat down and lit his cigarette when a strange mechanical beep sounded in his head.
[Beep.. Beep.. Beep..]
[Ding.. Host found successfully found.. Binding system.. 1%.. 3%.. 23%.. 53%.. 72%.. 84%.. 91%.. 96%.. 99%.. 100%.. System successfully bound.]
'Did that just happen? I'm just hearing things, right?', Bishal's eyes widened as he thought to himself.
"Who are you? Why are you in my head?", Bishal said in a low voice.
[Ding.. Host can talk in his mind and system can listen to it.]
'This thing can hear my thoughts. Hello? System, what are you?', Bishal who had never read any web novels that could explain this god damned unscientific thing that just appeared in his head.
[Ding.. No answer.]
'Host? Binding? You're not a parasite, right?', Bishal asked with raised eyebrows.
[Ding.. No, host. System is anything but a parasite. System's sole purpose is to help host.]
'Help me? How?'
[Ding.. Host can get one dollar every second after the system was activated. Host can play lottery by spending system points.]
'One dollar per second? 3600 dollars per hour? 86,400 dollars each day? Thats like 8.64 million Nepalese rupees?', Bishal couldn't believe it.
[Ding.. Newbie package detected.. Would host like to open the newbie package?]
'Open it.', Bishal said as he narrowed his eyes with some scrutiny but the joy in his eyes couldn't be concealed.
[Ding.. Opening Newbie package..]
[Ding.. Host has obtained Advanced-level Hacking skills.]
[Ding.. Host has obtained Random Identity Package.]
[Ding.. Host has obtained God-level Investment skills.]
[Ding.. Host has obtained a habit training card.]
'System, what is the use of these things?', Bishal asked. There was literally skills named on the gift package. Would he get the skills just like that? Bishal was in his own world as Nikki brought a cup of tea to his table.
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