DROP SIX
307 Words
DROP SIX
Hector worked hard the entire morning, and he was satisfied with his progress on fulfilling the orders. It wasn’t much, one was an alteration, the owner of the vest had simply gained a few kilos. The other was a typical bodyguard’s chest protection, the bare-minimum that insurance would cover. Hector hoped the poor guy wouldn’t run into anything serious. And the third order, still waiting to be made, was one of his armour-as-fashion-statement pieces.
He noticed that those were picking up steam in the market. He needed to do something about it. Jotting it down in his ever-expanding to-do list, he drank some coffee and went back to work.
As his hands performed their task, his mind wandered. He was now living with two women under the same roof. Imagine that. His thoughts turned to the recent events. This life was insane. He had witnessed first-hand plain a***e, s****l a***e and murder in the span of a couple of weeks. He wasn’t naive, he knew these things were happening out there. But, seeing it commercialised like that…
It was wrong.
Dionysos had created an entire industry that exploited people for entertainment. He couldn’t help but think about the Roman gladiators when thinking about the Cyberpink tournament, slaves who bled for the momentary joy of the masses. He pulled up a documentary on his veil and absent-mindedly listened to it as he worked. The documentary showed that the gladiators were in it to win it, getting sponsorships, peddling olive oil and other local manufacturers, enjoying the fleeting fame before they died a needless death in the ring, still hoping for that fleeting freedom even at the very end.
He snorted. This was exactly the same. Replace the gladiator match with jugger, and men with augmented women, and red blood with pink. Do all that, and you get the Cyberpink Tournament.
Nothing ever changes.
- Writer
