The Underclass - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Every day, Galaxy wondered why she wasn't dead yet.
Her existence in this world felt entirely useless, yet she suffered through it day after day.
She was surrounded by towering skyscrapers that blended high-tech aesthetics with a sci-fi sensibility; neon lights flashed everywhere in a display of ultimate prosperity.
A mechanical patrol officer must have noticed her self-defeating demeanor, flying over to express its concern in an emotionless voice.
"Ma'am, is there anything you need help with?"
Galaxy shot it a sidelong glance, asking with malice, "If someone wanted to force themselves on you and dismantle your body, what would you do?"
The mechanical patrol officer was a laser sphere equipped with a screen. It wiggled its body and answered earnestly, "I would use the laser rays inside my body to make her wish she were dead."
"Article 23 of the Intelligent Machine Protection Law stipulates that if someone attacks a public patrol officer, the officer has the right to engage in unlimited self-defense."
"And what about me?" Galaxy asked in a low voice.
"You have the same right, ma'am. We will always defend your human rights."
Galaxy waved it away, too lazy to say anything more.
Crowds bustled through Segri Square. She sat on a smart bench, resting her chin in her hands, feeling completely thoroughly annoyed. Overhead, some idiot bravely pursuing love was flying a drone, dropping laser spheres everywhere. When the spheres hit the ground, they exploded into virtual projections, presumably showcasing bits and pieces of the two protagonists' time together.
The mechanical patrol officer beside her let out a sharp siren wail, condemning the public disturbance as it flew over to intervene.
The square immediately devolved into chaos.
Galaxy's smart-brain pinged. It was an old model from four or five years ago, incapable of running many new features, but the person contacting her had no need for new features anyway.
She glanced down at the message, a look of exhaustion crossing her face. Ultimately, she grabbed her bag, stood up, and entered the adjacent hyper-rail station.
Her destination was the famous affluent district. In this era, real estate was more expensive than gold, land resources were dwindling, and places meant for human habitation were becoming increasingly scarce.
The high-rises had their owners, but Galaxy knew she could never afford to buy a residence like this, even if she spent her entire life trying.
Her irises were already registered here. The management robot at the gate waved at her and spoke with the same overly enthusiastic voice it used every time she visited, "Dear guest of Residence 1105, welcome back."
Galaxy couldn't bring herself to be happy, because she knew exactly who she was about to face.
Even after she rode the elevator up and stood before the door to Room 1105, she hesitated, afraid to knock.
However, the door sensed her arrival and slid open automatically.
Butler No. 1 had been waiting for her by the entrance. Upon seeing her, it said in an exaggerated tone, "Miss Galaxy, why are you standing at the door instead of coming in?"
Butler No. 1 was a humanoid machine. Its creator had given it an appearance and core programming infinitely close to that of a human. In fact, apart from the overly dramatic tone it adopted every time it greeted someone, there wasn't much difference between it and an ordinary person.
Galaxy couldn't smile at its overly enthusiastic attitude, because she knew what awaited her inside.
She walked in expressionlessly and precisely pushed open a room door. Inside, blue lights glowed dimly, accompanied by a damp smell.
A woman sat at a desk wearing a white lab coat, surrounded by overlapping virtual screens and chemical instruments. Her hands moved across them with dizzying speed.
Galaxy sat quietly on the only bed in the room and skillfully began to undress.
A shiver ran down her spine as her skin touched the leather surface of the bed. Bad memories assaulted her, raising goosebumps all over her body and triggering an instinct to flee.
Butler No. 1, however, had already adeptly secured her hands and feet with ropes, comforting her, "Ms. An Hua might be a bit gentler today. Please don't be afraid, dear Miss Galaxy."
As the butler finished speaking, An Hua wrapped up her work. She walked over, pulling on a pair of gloves.
"Miss Galaxy, you seem to be late today."
Her voice was cold, very different from the ruthless demeanor she usually displayed when reducing Galaxy to tears of pain.
But the sound of her voice alone was enough to make Galaxy terrified.
"I didn't mean to," she deflected. "The guard robot downstairs delayed me; its reaction time is too slow."
"Is that so?" An Hua didn't say whether she believed her or not. She simply gathered a strand of Galaxy's blonde hair and smiled slightly. "Then let's begin. Please spread your legs a little wider, or the instruments might hurt you."
Galaxy had joined this human experimentation project two years ago. Even with highly advanced technology, humanity's research into the human body never stopped.
The government had long banned such illegal research, but there were always mad scientists secretly violating government orders.
Like An Hua.
Two years ago, when Galaxy had hit a dead end, she received a message from An Hua and became a data provider for her human experiments.
Over the past two years, An Hua had extracted blood, hair, and epidermal tissue from her, all without compromising her health.
Of course, that wasn't the main issue. The reason she was so resistant to this was that An Hua was her ex-girlfriend, and their breakup had been incredibly ugly.
Galaxy once thought she had a bright future ahead of her. She believed she would join the Federal Army and become a high-ranking general, just like their Commander, Ms. Karen. Back then, she even felt that An Hua was beneath her, and so she callously dumped her.
Unfortunately, she failed. Right before her physical exam, she suffered severe, irreparable injuries and was forced to drop out.
Consequently, it became difficult for her to secure any meaningful work, and at one point, she struggled just to survive.
During her most desperate moments, she received a message from An Hua, inviting her to cooperate.
Naturally, both parties knew this wasn't a collaboration; it was an employment arrangement with An Hua as the boss.
The main reason Galaxy had been so arrogant back then was that her physical stamina and constitution were several times superior to an ordinary person's, without any compromise to her intelligence.
An Hua had always firmly believed that Galaxy's genetics were exceptional, even though numerous tests had confirmed her genes were no different from anyone else's.
This time, An Hua wanted to extract a sample of epidermal tissue from her inner thigh.
Galaxy gripped the armrests tightly, feeling a sharp, subtle sting. Cold tweezers pinched off a piece of skin the size of a grain of rice from her leg, immediately followed by drops of a healing solution.
The cold liquid made her tremble slightly.
An Hua placed the harvested tissue into a container and turned back. Her gaze was as cold as the tweezers, making Galaxy feel utterly humiliated.
"Do you want it?" she asked indifferently.
Galaxy turned her head away in silence. An Hua put on rubber gloves, disinfected her hands, and then squeezed between Galaxy's legs, dropping to a half-kneel.
Startled, Galaxy tried to close her legs and sit up, only to receive a harsh slap on her inner thigh.
An Hua looked up, her lips red, and raised a hand to caress the red mark she had just left on Galaxy's leg. "I remember the optimal force you could handle used to be exactly this much."
Galaxy didn't want to answer. She bit down on her knuckle as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
An indeterminate amount of time passed. Her gaze grew unfocused. An Hua stood up, took a wet wipe, and cleaned her up.
This was a rare display of consideration from An Hua. Galaxy strongly suspected that their breakup had dealt An Hua such a massive blow that it turned her into this daunting, unapproachable figure.
Of course, what was even more detestable was when Galaxy had tried to swallow her pride and use her old tricks to coax An Hua into getting back together. She was met with An Hua's incredibly cold response: "If you need it, I can make this part of our transaction. I need you to maintain a decent mood."
That sentence had utterly shattered whatever illusions Galaxy had left. Indignantly, she threw her clothes on, slammed the door to An Hua's lab, and cursed, "Go spend the rest of your life with your chemical reagents, you annoying jerk!"
But the moment she left, hunger and exhaustion washed over her. Immediately after, her smart-brain pinged with a transfer notification from the International Bank. It was her payment from An Hua, enough to live comfortably for half a month.
Galaxy sat in the square, clutching her smart-brain, and wept loudly for her miserable fate and the inescapable reality that she would have to keep bowing her head to An Hua in the future.
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