As Rolo unlocked the door with his wrist communicator, he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement. His new home was a spacious three-bedroom apartment, far larger than he'd expected. The space was clean and tidy, and he stood at the entrance for a moment, taking it all in before stepping inside barefoot, realizing there were no slippers provided.
There was a master bedroom, a guest room, and a third room he'd designated as his study. The kitchen and bathroom were also quite roomy. What surprised Rolo the most was the large balcony attached to the living room, which spanned about thirty square meters—a clear indication of the abundant real estate resources in this futuristic society.
The balcony was adorned with various plants and flowers for aesthetic appeal. The walls and ceiling were made entirely of transparent glass, giving it the feel of a greenhouse. From the massive glass windows, he could see the towering buildings in the distance, framed by a sky painted with a deep red sunset—beautiful yet eerie.
"This is where my new life begins," Rolo thought, trying to cheer himself up as he started settling into his new apartment.
He headed to the kitchen, pulled a meal box from the fridge, and quickly heated it up. He ate without paying much attention to the taste, finishing his dinner quickly. The few potatoes he'd found were stored carefully in the fridge, treated as rare commodities.
After exploring the bathroom, Rolo realized he'd forgotten to buy clothes. He decided to order everything he needed online later. Wrapped in the large towel provided, he headed to the master bedroom.
Lying on the soft, comfortable bed, Rolo watched as the bedside lamp dimmed as he closed his eyes. It had been a day filled with surprises and confusion, and he desperately needed rest.
Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Rolo felt something hard under his pillow. Too tired to open his eyes fully, he reached under the pillow with his right hand and felt a wire. He pulled it closer, and suddenly heard a clicking sound, followed by a sensation of falling.
Startled, Rolo screamed, only to find himself standing upright in a strange, all-white room. In front of him was a giant screen with the words: "Welcome to the Virtual Galactic Network. First-time login, please enter your name."
Rolo quickly realized this was the microcomputer the attendant had mentioned, hidden under the pillow. The initial scare was forgotten as curiosity took over. He registered with the username "Initium," adjusted his appearance, and entered the network.
A burst of dazzling light later, Rolo found himself standing on a busy street. People bustled around him, and the streets were lined with various shops. He was stunned—this virtual world felt incredibly real, far busier than the outside world he had seen.
Rolo wandered through the network, exploring information centers, marketplaces, a real-world transaction platform, and an educational area. He made a mental note of the free educational sections, realizing he'd likely become a frequent visitor.
The most crowded area was the training and competition zone. According to the information available, skills practiced in the virtual network could be applied with about sixty percent effectiveness in the real world. Moreover, the network's mechas lacked many of the restrictions of real-world counterparts, making online training and battles highly popular.
Following the crowd, Rolo entered an open combat hall where people were discussing a challenge to someone named "Aidan." Not knowing who Aidan was, Rolo watched in awe as a red and a white mecha battled on a giant platform. Though unfamiliar with mechas, he was fascinated by these symbols of high-tech warfare, something he'd only ever seen in movies.
The red mecha was clearly outmatched by the white one, which moved with surprising agility despite its massive size. The crowd gasped as the white mecha executed complex maneuvers, eventually defeating the red one in a few minutes. The system declared Aidan the winner, and the white mecha exited the arena without looking back, while the crowd gradually dispersed.
Rolo, still buzzing with excitement, had forgotten his original plan to look for job opportunities online. Instead, he immersed himself in studying mecha-related information. Many resources were free, though some advanced materials required payment. Rolo downloaded everything he could, even if he didn't fully understand it all.
Back in the real world, Rolo lay on his bed, the necklace on his chest glowing faintly green. He didn't know when he fell asleep; the network automatically disconnected when the computer sensed he needed rest.
When Rolo woke up the next morning, the bright sunlight filled the room. Remembering the previous night's experiences, he smiled and even managed to enjoy his simple breakfast.
He then pulled out a stack of documents left by his butler, Blake Harper. He needed to assess his education and practical skills to find a part-time job. His ultimate goal was to own and pilot his own mecha, but for now, he needed to focus on making a living.
Looking through the documents, Rolo noted down the key points: "Rolo, male, 17 years old, graduate of a middle-tier school, D-grade genetic rating, poor physical condition, barely passing theoretical scores."
Rolo frowned, realizing that the original owner of his body hadn't left him much to work with. However, being a new student at Saint Miro Academy was a redeeming factor—until he noticed the tuition section.
"New student notice: Tuition is 20,000 Federation credits per year, to be paid in full on the first day of enrollment."
"Oh no!" Rolo groaned, clutching his head. He should have checked the admission notice earlier. His family had only provided him with enough for one year of university tuition, likely as a means to control him for five years.
Now, what was he going to do? He didn't even have half the amount needed for tuition. Rolo knew that if he couldn't attend Saint Miro Academy, he wouldn't have a chance at any other university. Without a degree in this unfamiliar world, he might never be able to support himself, and his dream of piloting a mecha would remain just that—a dream.
Determined, Rolo decided he had to come up with the money within a month. He opened his study room's computer and began searching for job listings. However, he quickly realized that most jobs required qualifications or specialized certificates he didn't have, like a professional grade two certificate for mecha repair technicians or a B-grade driver's license for mining workers.
On the verge of despair, Rolo clicked on a modest job listing: "Hiring laborers, contact: Dylan Mars, phone: XXXXXX." The ad didn't specify salary or requirements, likely deterring more skilled applicants.
With a determined grit, Rolo decided to take whatever he could get, regardless of the pay.
The next day, Rolo reported for his new job. He was assigned to a mech parts manufacturing and repair factory, where he was tasked with assembling small components on a production line. After a brief training session, Rolo quickly adapted to the work.
His youthful age and sharp memory served him well, impressing Dylan Mars, who had hired him. The factory had several dozen workers, each responsible for different parts, and everyone worked in separate rooms—whether for security reasons or something else, Rolo wasn't sure.
One morning, after completing a set of twenty components, Rolo went to inform the supervisor, who seemed surprised at his speed. Rolo felt relieved, realizing he wouldn't have to worry about the trial period.
The factory provided lunch, but workers could also bring their own meals. Rolo happily accepted the factory meal, which tasted better than the food he'd had the past few days. He returned to his workroom and continued assembling parts.
Rolo immersed himself in the repetitive tasks, finding them oddly satisfying. He was curious about the principles behind the parts he was assembling and wondered where these perfectly curved components would be used.
He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice two people observing him through the room's window.
As Rolo finished his day's work, stretching to relieve the tension, there was a knock on the door. It was unusual for someone to visit during work hours unless a worker voluntarily left their room.
Rolo invited them in, and Dylan Mars entered with the supervisor.
"Did you need something?" Rolo asked, trying not to show his anxiety, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong.
Dylan Mars laughed heartily. "You're quite something, Rolo. I've never seen a newcomer work so fast, even faster than our veteran employees."
"I just tried to do as much as I could," Rolo replied modestly, though he felt proud.
Dylan Mars looked pleased. It was rare to find such a quick and diligent worker. The factory paid employees by the day, and most workers completed only one set of parts per day. Rolo's speed was exceptional.
"Here's the deal," Dylan Mars said after a moment of thought. "It doesn't seem fair to pay you by the day when you're doing so much more work. I'll pay you per piece—ten Federation credits per part. So, for today, your pay is four hundred credits."
Rolo was overjoyed. His pay had doubled!
If he could increase his speed even more—well, he was ready to do whatever it took for his tuition.