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Translated by boilpoil Edited by boilpoil
“Is that guy still alive?”
“He looks unconscious, and has no bracelet. A trash outsider, no?”
“Just throw him into the recycling silos and turn him into feed.”
“That’s wasteful. Don’t they need a few cannon fodder for the reality show? Just drag him there.”
In his dizziness, he hears people talking besides him. Something about trash or cannon fodder, is it about me?
His brain feels dull. He can only sense his body being lifted and thrown onto the cold floor. Then the sound of engines roaring.
Which hero is sending me to class… Heard professor’s taking attendance…
Wait, who the fuck would have a car in the dorm?!
He wakes up while shivering. He thought he’d only taken a 5-minute nap, but in reality his thinking is disrupted while sleeping; he slept for two whole hours.
Two hours is enough to get sold by someone and forced to sign some indenture contract with a handprint, then to be locked up by some black corporation.
He’s dazed from the unfamiliar environment around him. He could have sworn he was in his university dorm before closing his eyes.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
There’s definitely a mistake in how I opened my eyes!
If it wasn’t that he wasn’t alone, and the others are obviously not people to be trifled with, he would’ve started screaming a long time ago.
“You twat, I’ve got my eyes on you for a long time taking up that longest sofa in the room. Move it!” Said a 7-feet-tall muscular baldy. He has a grey blue tank-top on, which reveals his tattoos on his neck and arms, looking very conceited. The baldy always acts overbearingly. If it weren’t that medical staff were attending to that twat, he would’ve grabbed him and thrown him to the corners.
Whosoever is aware of the circumstances is more handsome.
He jumps, retreats to the wall, hoping to be as far away as possible from this dangerous person.
“Tch, coward!” The baldy spat while saying.
It may be a kidnapping. Take a deep breath, don’t panic, try to return home alive to see mom and dad.
However, soon he realised he might be unable to see his mom and dad.
He didn’t figure it out at first, but after standing up for a while, he noticed that his angle of view seemed different from usual.
He seems to have grown taller.
He was originally average among guys, just over 170 , and more on the thinner side, looking like a gentle person. The viewpoint now, though, is at least at 185 .
It’s not like he’s in a commercial for growth pills, ‘eat some XX calcium tablets and you can have a second growth spurt at 28, and you immediately grow super tall in a single day.’
Hopelessness starts spreading in his chest.
Reading transmigration novels doesn’t mean he wants to transmigrate, you know!
As if in a slow motion, he lowers his head and looks at his hand.
The pair of hands is wide and thick, the fingers long and powerful. It’s the hands of an adult man, and not his.
It’s only been 5 minutes since he woke up, yet he feels as if a century has passed.
“Are you looking for your bracelet?” Next to him is someone talking to him. He warily looks him over. It’s a small teen wearing glasses, looking a bit slow in his expression. He’s probably similar in age.
He didn’t answer as he’s still in shock.
The glasses-teen continues, “whether the bracelet is lost or stolen, without it you’ve no identity in the City. No identity, and you have none of the rights a free man enjoys. Your life is not a life anymore.”
What did you mean by not a free man, my life not being a life? Are you being an alarmist?
“The City? I’m not from here.” He counters reflexively.
“An Outsider?!” Exclaimed the glasses teen. All of a sudden everyone’s gazes are on our protagonist, causing cold sweat to fall. He regrets his carelessness, reminding himself that woe comes out of the mouth. Before he has got ahold of the situation, he should have stayed mute!
The glasses teen seems to have realised his recklessness, and apologises, “I’m sorry. You didn’t look like an Outsider; they’re normally in ragged clothes, looking drained…”
Something flashes through his brain, the terms ‘City,’ ‘bracelet,’ and ‘Outsider’ makes him recall a novel he casually flipped through before sleeping. His eyes widen.
The novel describes a dark, cruel future world where humans lived through the zombie apocalypse. The environment was devastated with radiation everywhere. A great saviour led humans to return to the City, and rebuilt a settlement in the middle of the ruins, as the last hope of the human civilisation.
In the centre of the City is the Citadel , and just outside is the Inner City, where the upper class lives, the further inside the higher the status. Outside is the Outer City, where the normal citizens live. They’re free men who fulfils their due obligations, with rights and freedom. Outsiders are not people, because without the protection of the City, the level of technology is low, and the living conditions abysmal. They’re agonising from all the radiation, sickness, hunger, and famine, struggling at the bottom. They’re lowly slaves, beasts to be killed, rats in the dark sewers where no light reaches. To enter the City, they have waged an invasion but failed abhorrently under the massive difference in power. After the invasion the City stripped them of all rights to be a person.
This City has now stood for a thousand years long, with highly developed technology, yet humanity has gradually eroded away. The citizens have invented all kinds of entertainment for excitement, including a reality show themed around killing as a sport. The novel’s own protagonist Bottom is the champion of the 25 <sup>th</sup> season of that.
He is always a fan of sweet loving novels, and you can tell this one is dark at first glance, so he immediately closed it after just reading the beginning of the novel.
Even so, he still had to bleach his eyes with videos of kittens pressing doorbells due to what he saw in the first two pages.
The sickening author specifically introduced a cannon fodder to showcase the setting of this world.
A star champion in the first few seasons of the show, whose name seemed to be Bright, was typecasted as an unwavering, affectionate and righteous hero. He was adored by the audience. After becoming a champion through countless struggles, he did not acquire the identity of a free man – the show’s team lied to everyone.
Bright was not only squeezed of any little value he had left, but he was toyed with, in fancy grandstanding styles, by the carnivorous aristocrats of the Inner City. It was just a few short sentences, but it was full of endless pain and torture. When he met the protagonist Bottom, Bright was already transformed into a fleshlight, publicly available. The aristocrats also strengthened his sensitivity while retaining his ability to feel pride and shame to add to the enjoyment. In the end the kind and merciful protagonist Bottom shot him as a release.
What the actual fuck!
Gods how am I supposed to live in this highly dangerous world?
I should hug the thigh of the protagonist, it’s often the case they’re blessed by great fortune. Right, what was the name of the protagonist Bottom…
He was immersed in his own world, and in no mood to talk. The glasses teen who talked to him felt awkward, and fell into silence.
A while later, the door of the room was opened, and a staff member enters.
“Congratulations to you all for becoming the contestants of the seventh season of ‘Killing Game,’ if you’re good enough and lucky enough, not only can you become a shining star and enter upper society, but becoming the champion entitles you to great rewards that will let you achieve the pinnacle of your life!”
Se, venth, sea, son?!
He’s going to break into pieces.
“Now, the contestant called should come grab a bracelet in order. This is specially ordered by the show with GPS. After the contest the medical team will be able to locate you and save your little lives.”
“No. 199, Bright,” repeats the staff, “ Bri——ght .” He sees the stumped teenager who is clearly out of it, and shouts angrily, “Are you deaf? I’m calling you!”
It’s just him who hasn’t had a bracelet in the room. The staff’s gaze locks onto him. He’s scared into trying to retreat further, but he is already at the wall.
“I’m not Bright.” Struggling , he rejects this name.
The staff knows where he’s from, because there’s many who are sold here without any identity, so he forcefully installs the bracelet on him.
“No matter what you’re called before, you’re Bright from now on.”
Author’s notes: Rewatched the Hunger Games and now I’m brainstorming hard.
Read only at Travis Translations