Darren Nova didn't trust golden and mysterious doorways.
They just screamed "trap," like a phishing link with better lighting.
But standing alone in a vault that had tried to liquidate him ten seconds ago, while holding a pen that might be worth less than the soul it cost—he figured the glowing corridor was... marginally better than waiting to starve next to a corpse.
"Screw it. I already bought the premium subscription to existential horror."
He stepped through the opening.
Back Into Cindervale..
The world didn't look different.
Same towering skyline. Same cold air that tasted like corporate lawsuits and power. Same giant billboard playing an ad for Parallax Finance—the company that fired him three weeks ago for "reckless dissent."
(Translation: He'd called his supervisor an overpriced paperclip in a meeting.)
But something was off..
As Darren crossed the street, system tags glowed into view over people's heads. Faint, barely readable, like smudged reflections on a cracked phone screen.
[Credit Score: 622]
[Debt Risk: Moderate]
[Emotional Equity: 48% Suppressed]
Wait… emotional equity?
He blinked. The tags disappeared. Maybe it was a glitch. Maybe it was caffeine withdrawal. Maybe he'd officially lost his mind.
"Alright, Ledger. You still with me?" he muttered.
Silence.
Not even a sarcastic system beep.
"Cool. Now the cursed ghost app is giving me the silent treatment."
Darren found his way to a cracked metal bench outside his apartment building—if it could be called that. The Nova Residence was a two room shoebox on the 73rd floor of a converted drone hangar, right above a ramen place and directly beneath a skytrain line that screamed like a dying hawk every 18 minutes.
He flopped onto the bench.
Pulled out the pen.
It still glowed faintly, the way rich people glow in Instagram posts.
"So. You're my only asset now," he muttered. "How poetic. My life is backed by a pen I can't sell and a system I don't understand."
As if summoned, a notification blinked into existence across his vision.
[New Asset Detected Nearby: Darren Nova]
[Analysis in Progress…]
[Warning: You have no monetary value.]
[You do, however, possess high-risk emotional liquidity.]
"...Excuse me?! I'm worth something, emotionally. That's the first."
Another message appeared, with a soft ding.
[NEW QUEST: Collateral Damage]
Objective: Generate 10 Ledger Units in under 24 hours
Condition: Must be obtained legally (per system standards)
Failure Penalty: System Recall of Current Assets
Bonus: Survive.
"Legally?" Darren snorted. "Well, that narrows it down."
---
After seeing what happened the last time he didn't comply, he wasn't gonna take any chances.
Besides, not like he had a job.
Brainstorm Mode....
He started pacing.
How do I legally make money in 24 hours with no job, no friends, and a cursed economic parasite living in my frontal lobe?
Stealing? Too risky. Begging? Cindervale doesn't tip unless you're hot and trending. Working? There were five billion jobless people ahead of him in the queue.
Unless…
Darren's gaze dropped to a couple arguing nearby. Loud, dramatic. The guy looked like a wannabe startup founder. The woman? Stylish. Angry. Holding back tears.
The moment she stormed off, Darren's system pinged.
[Emotional Distress Detected]
[Temporary Market Fluctuation: Regret, Loneliness, Insecurity]
[Short term value spike possible: 0.03 Units]
"Oh my god," he whispered, eyes wide. "The system tracks feelings like they're stocks."
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
So, naturally, he smiled like someone who just found a loophole in the devil's contract.
"Looks like I'm flipping emotions on the emotional stock exchange."
Because here's the thing...
Rule #1 of being broke in Cindervale:
If it cries, it pays.
Darren Nova didn't know how the system worked yet—but he knew that glowing text didn't lie. That couple's breakup? It triggered a ping. That ping came with a price. And price, according to capitalism, meant value.
Emotional value..
He stared across the street at the heartbroken dude, who was now scrolling through his phone like he expected a therapist to crawl out of it.
Another faint line of golden text pinged above the guy's head:
[Current Emotional Value: 0.03 Ledger Units]
[Trend: Rising – Despair + Guilt spike]
"Alright," Darren muttered. "So this is what it's come to. Emotional day trading."
He leaned back on the bench, fingers brushing the gilded pen in his pocket like it might explain anything.
"Okay, Ledger. If I invest in this guy's misery... what? Do I get paid in depression coins?"
The system chimed.
SYSTEM UPDATE
[Asset Interface Online]
[New Ability Unlocked: Emotional Conversion]
Description: You may now extract short term value from intense emotional states in your immediate radius. Proximity and timing affect payout.
Warning: Overharvesting emotional fields may cause Host exposure.
"Host exposure? What am I, a grief mosquito?"
Still, he stood. Walked toward the heartbroken guy like a man on a mission to commit morally questionable acts for legally questionable income.
Here is the thing, talking has never been a big deal to him. That's one of the reasons he thought he was gonna do well in finance.
---
Interaction Mode: Scumbag Activated..
"Hey," Darren said, flashing a smile that could sell rain to a drowning man. "Rough day?"
The guy looked up, bleary eyed. "What?"
"Saw the fight. That your girl?"
"Ex," the guy muttered. "Just dumped me."
"Ouch. Textbook emotional rug pull. You gonna be okay?"
"I dunno, man. It's just... I really thought she was the one."
Darren placed a hand on the guy's shoulder, offering the softest, most manipulative nod known to mankind. "You know what? You did love her. Probably more than she'll ever understand. That kind of hurt? That's real. That's power, man."
As he spoke, golden glyphs flickered in the air. The emotional field thickened like static before a lightning strike.
[Emotional Value Spike Detected: Despair, 0.07 Units]
[Collect? Y/N]
Darren exhaled.
"Buy it."
[Transaction Complete]
[Emotional Asset Converted: 0.07 Units]
[Updated Balance: +0.06 Ledger Units]
WARNING: Emotional Echo Imprint Registered.
Darren winced.
A shock of despair slammed into his chest—not his own, not really. A deep ache grew in his lungs, sharp and sudden, like someone had punched his ribs with a love letter.
"Ow—okay, that's new."
The guy looked confused. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Darren coughed. "Just… allergies. To pain."
He walked back to his bench, checking the new balance:
[Ledger Balance: +0.06 Units]
Not much. But it was something. More than he had all week.
Net Worth: Slightly Less Worthless.
He sat down, rubbing his temples as the emotional feedback slowly faded.
"Okay. So I can literally monetize people's pain. That's not messed up at all."
A pause.
"...Okay it's totally messed up. But also—rent is due in three days and I just made six cents from a breakup."
He pulled out his phone. Checked the time.
10:47 a.m.
Plenty of hours left in the day. Plenty of sad people in Cindervale.
Darren grinned.
"Time to hit the emotional stock market."