Far away from the civilized aspects of humanity lies the trash among trash, those forgotten and scorned by the rest of the world. A boy with dark brown hair and distant eyes was found hiding beneath a tree from the freezing cold of the winter. He tucked a book under his rags he had worn since the day prior and needed to get away from the guard that was currently chasing him.
The boy had no business reading, he was just a rat.
The topic of the book the boy was reading was that of brave, fantastical heroes. As the boy started he paused and threw the book.
He was annoyed.
"This is just a watered down children's book! Not worth risking my ass over."
With a scowl on his face, he continued to go on the move as he heard a middle aged man still shouting for a dirty slum rat.
"Fuck that guy really won't give up will he? There are definitely worse crimes to spend police resources on than a stolen children's book!" the boy cursed under his breath
That was the same officer that he had seen chasing many other residents, if they could be called such, he had also chased the boy on many occasions when he was caught trespassing or stealing. The boy had never been caught though, a few weeks back he had dug a hole which led past a fence.
After losing the officer the boy suddenly started violently coughing, checked his hand and was annoyed to find it bloody.
Fuck, How long am I going to live like this?
Previously he had lived differently, admittedly not in a much better situation but, he at least didn't have to scavenge for his own food and had a ragged roof over his head, but that was a roof nevertheless.
That was fourteen years ago, the boy was now seventeen but he remembered the weak smiles of his parents who had eventually starved to death from using their own rations to feed their child. At the time the boy could not do anything as he had not known the meaning behind their ghostly pale eyes.
The boy solemnly pondered.
"All I want to do is live a lavish life where I don't have to worry about when my next meal will be."
As the boy was lost in his own world, he heard a familiar voice and took a deep sigh, it was the boss.
"Hey boy! Do you have the weekly tribute?!"
The weekly tribute was implemented by the current boss as sort of a tax for protection in the form of not being violently beaten by him. This was usually in the form of the food rations given sparingly by the government, or other high demand necessities.
The boy remained silent.
"I know that you aren't deaf boy!"
"Just give me one more da-"
The boss grabbed the boy by the ragged collar of his shirt and raised a burly fist.
"I'm feeling generous today, so I will give you one more chance to answer my question."
The boy again responded with a more resolute tone this time.
"I do not have your tribute today, I said if you would give me one more da-"
The boss punched the young boy.
"You fucking better have it by tomorrow or I won't hold back again."
After giving the threatening warning, the boss and his goons turned their backs on the boy and walked away. However, one thing unknown to the boss and his gang was the fact that they had been lied to. The teen had a routine of gathering the tribute on the first day of the week in case the boss came calling early.
The boy had enough of the boss' shit.
"I can't continue to live like this, might as well have the extras from the tribute."
Because of the boy's antics he was able to secure himself extra food from his 'errands' he ran across the slums which included stealing from the markets, stealing from dumpsters, and trading stolen goods.
The boy was no stranger to stealing.
The boy grabbed his check where the boss had stricken him, he silently grimaced, then checked his status window that appeared before his eyes.
The status window had appeared before the boy two weeks back. Despite the almost videogame aspect of it, the boy was not special. Millions of people had experienced this change before, usually from the upper echelons of society.
***
The status window, as it was called, had appeared for the last century. During that time humanity was suffering from continuous waste wars as the wasteful attitude of humanity had almost been their downfall.
Desperation from these wars had led to people wanting to escape the real world and to immerse themselves in fantastical worlds made possible by the advancing technology which came with war.
After only a year one billion people had escaped reality, which later was hypothesized to be some kind of counter. Once the counter was filled a couple of months passed and then everyone who had entered the simulations were suddenly thrown back into the real world, in one way or another. Although they were ruthlessly brought back to a harsh world, they did not return empty handed, they became evolved.
After returning to the real world they had kept their powers that they had gained from fighting. Although one billion people had entered the simulation, only the strongest and most resourceful of the bunch kept their humanity. The people numbered only twenty million and the rest just disintegrated into nothingness.
The evolved as the ones who had escaped were now called had brought order to the warring world as they were at least ten times stronger than an unevolved human. This power completely uprooted the previous social hierarchy, and in this new world order the evolved were treated as nobility like those of ancient aristocracies.
The appearance evolved was not the only change the whole world felt.
With the evolved, came the status window, despite how monumental of a discovery this was, the status window only ever appeared to one in ten people and usually those from low backgrounds had no chance of survival
In that regard perhaps the boy was in fact special.
Although becoming an evolved seemed like a good thing on paper, and to be fair it certainly was, the survival rate was less than two percent. Although this number was much better when people were actually prepared.
There was also the fact that if a status window appeared before a person they could choose simply to ignore it and go on with the rest of their lives without penalty. This was the situation the boy found himself in for the past two weeks, and the boy had finally come to a decision.
***
Before the next fateful day the boy needed to get some rest.
"At this point the bastard has probably given up"
Just in case the guard was in fact still looking for him, the boy decided to slowly go back to the tree where he had previously been. as an even further precaution, he decided to take the longer route instead of his little short cut, which led him on a quarter mile journey through the dark but calm streets
As the boy returned he found the book dented at the rock where he had thrown it, somewhat surprised that the officer had not returned it, picked it up and reluctantly started reading out of pure boredom.
The boy continued going about his nightly routine one last time as he was not sure if he would even survive the prologue of the simulation. If he could just complete the prologue he would be able to escape the life he had always hated. Although he would not become a true evolved until he defeated the region's boss, this would certainly be a good start.
The boy then muttered and coughed once more.
"Well it is either I survive the prologue or die a painful death as a rat."