Meaningless Existence

Almost immediately after John gave the contract his stamp, Randolph felt a tingling sensation on his skin.

It wasn't a comfortable sensation, nor was it painful, but it was dreadful. It was as if energy was being stolen out from his body, as if it was being sucked out.

He couldn't tell what was happening to his own body, but John's stare filled with shock told him what he needed to know.

The young man's breathing quickened as he slouched over on his seat. His eyes drooped, nearly shutting, as the process continued. An intense wave of exhaustion came over him as he shivered involuntarily.

The process was a quick one, lasting just barely over half a minute.

Looking at his body, he didn't notice any significant changes except that his eyes felt slightly more sunken into his head. His brow felt more narrow and the frown lines on his face had deepened somewhat, but not enough to warrant any significant change.

Randolph sat slouched over on his seat, observing John intently. He refused to let a single detail of his change pass by, ignoring his exhaustion.

The change on the old man was much more apparent than on himself. It was probably because he was still relatively young, while the factory owner was on his old-age deathbed.

Many of the man's visible wrinkles seemed to disappear, and much of the skin on his body seemed to bounce back, regaining their elasticity. A large portion of his hair turned gray from its previous stark-white, and his breathing became much less laboured.

"What in the world…" John held his hands up in the air, staring at them in shock.

It was almost as if the effects of time on his body had reversed himself, yet not exactly. It was more like he had been injected with some sort of pure energy, and it healed or replenished something deep inside of him.

It was much more profound than an injury, or even an internal injury. While he couldn't tell exactly what it was, he felt an endless amount of energy within the depths of his body.

At least until it quickly stopped a few moments later.

"Now, the transfer." Straightening up in his seat, Randolph narrowed his eyes at the old man.

He refused to let his guard down until the transaction was completed. He wasn't worried about how the system would reinforce the agreement, but it was money instead of lifespan he needed right now.

"A-alright."

He quickly realized that his worries were unfounded as he watched the old man reach for the tablet at his side. His hand was moving slowly, trembling visibly.

After having such an experience, John was left in shock. He felt his worldview still turning, being flipped on its head, as he went through with the transfer process. Pulling out his wallet at the side, he flipped through several bankbooks and cards before picking one, holding it out hesitantly.

"…Randolph. What exactly are you?"

"…"

He didn't respond, but John didn't seem to care.

"The implications… The implications are…"

Randolph could almost see the cogs in the man's brain turning at light speed as he thought. It was almost as if steam was being emitted from his head.

"Randolph, you have to understand the dangers of this ability of yours. I don't know where or how you got it, or if you've had it all this time, but this is absolutely invaluable."

"I realize."

"The government, the rich, even the religious. You'd be hunted down." The man let out a shaky breath. "Though, why exactly are you willing to trade? What's stopping you from merely robbing me outright? I'm sure that you're capable of doing at least that, seeing as to how you can trade lifespan."

"You're asking too many questions."

"Sorry... just curious."

This was a problem that Randolph had been thinking about as well. But no matter how much he thought, he couldn't come up with an answer. What was stopping him from going on a rampage? Why did the system take the form of a trading system?

But it was useless to think about as he had no answers. The only thing he could be certain about was that the system had its limitations, which he had no choice but to stick with for the time being.

"…Would you be willing to sign a long-term contract with me?"

The question that John asked was a timid one, and it was one that was understandable. In comparison to the potential limits that could be achieved, theoretical or not, five years was basically peanuts.

A lifespan so extended that he could reach even double his life expectancy. Who could remain calm in the face of such a temptation? Especially seeing as to how it was a man on his deathbed.

"Don't ask me now. Maybe some other time."

"…" Disappointment showed on John's face, but he reigned in his emotions.

"Here." After finishing typing away, the old man handed Randolph the tablet.

On the tablet's screen was his open offshore account's overview. The number listed on it was a bold $100k.

"I've already extended the withdrawal limit online. Ha… I truly wouldn't have held back if I had known this was really happening. This isn't all I have though, are you in need of more money? If you agree, I can immediately begin to liquidate my assets, and even sell my stock. The process won't be lengthy probably…"

John droned on, but Randolph had long stopped listening. His hearing had become muffled, as if through a screen.

The tablet he was holding onto in his hands had attracted his full attention.

He stared down at it, his face expressionless.

The number on the screen wasn't a joke. He had read through the site's link several times and had long confirmed it was legitimate.

The young man's head felt as if it was floating as he sat there, but it was far from an expression of happiness or joy.

"…Randolph? Hey, you're bleeding. Are you alright?" His trance was interrupted by John's concerned voice.

It was only until he spoke that Randolph realized his nose had been dripping blood. The warm liquid fell onto the screen below his face, dripping slowly but continuously.

"I… Ha…" In response to the events, Randolph broke out into a chuckle.

"Hahaha!"

The chuckle escalated into a nonstop fit of laughter, almost maniacal. It was as if he couldn't stop it, and a tear forced itself out of the corner of his eye.

This wasn't a joyous laughter. Rather, it was a laughter full of pain. As he laughed, he felt something snap inside of him.

Out of all the experiences in his life, this one was by far the most ludicrous. It impacted him even more than gaining the system, or seeing the freak in the alleyway.

It was like a sledgehammer out of the blue, and, to an extent, it was an experience even more emotional than having lost all of his savings.

At the very least that event had been believable, and in comparison to this, it was even acceptable.

The number on the screen brought his memory back to the long and hard days of labour he had performed in the factory. It brought him back to his despairing circumstances of living paycheck-to-paycheck.

The most despairing thing was his memories of travelling the forest, of the hope that he had slowly accumulated in that pit after working day after day, hour after hour.

The number on the screen almost felt mocking, as if to jeer at the fact that he had worked so long and hard, for nothing. It was as if his efforts over the years and his dreams of a brighter future had been invalidated with a single transaction, making over four times in what he had made in seven years. It was like both his hopes and suffering had been rendered meaningless, and it filled the young man with an emotion too complex for him to describe.

Throughout his laughter, John had only watched silently, perturbed.

"Ha… Ha…" Panting heavily, Randolph held up a hand. "I'm fine, everything's alright."

He forcibly reigned in his emotions, realizing that this was not the time to break down or lose control.

"If you say so."

"Thanks for the trade John. I'll contact you again soon, maybe." Wiping away the blood from his nose, he shot the man a smile.

Carefully rolling up the contract, he tucked it into his pants pocket. Finished with his business, he turned around to leave.

But the moment he did so, the smile on his face froze.

Through a small open gap in the fine-wood door, a pair of bloodshot eyes could be seen peeking through.