Chapter 3

At the end of the highly stressful cat day, the tour agency piled some more on her by informing her of a pay cut. They didn’t say how much.

Bellina took a bit too long soaking in the tub. She finished and dressed around midnight. Geh, Reena is going to harp on her faulty sleeping habits again—but she decided the woman never had to go through what she had today, so she went straight to the TV for a bit of a guilty pleasure of hers.

The Magnificent Skeiner

Yes, a kid's show.

Bellina curled up on the worn corner of the couch, still faintly damp from her too-long soak in the tub. The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional distant honk from a passing sky-bus outside. She grabbed the blanket draped over the armrest and tugged it around her shoulders like armor against the world.

With a flick of the remote, the holo-screen blinked to life, illuminating the dark room in soft blues and purples. The cheerful, bombastic opening of The Magnificent Skeiner burst from the speakers, filling the room with its familiar, upbeat tune.

"Through danger’s storm and fate’s cruel game—Justice shines through Skeiner’s flame!"

Bellina exhaled slowly, letting the stress of the day bleed away as the show’s familiar animation kicked in—bright, exaggerated action sequences, dramatic poses, and impossibly over-the-top heroics. The titular hero, Skeiner, leaped into battle with his signature twin solar blades, deflecting energy blasts with effortless flair.

She mouthed the lines along with him, half-laughing at how corny they were—but they worked. They always did.

As the episode ended with a triumphant pose and the “To Be Continued...” splash screen, Bellina let out a long, contented sigh. For a little while, her chaotic day faded into the background, replaced by heroic adventures and impossible stunts.

She flopped back against the cushions, still wrapped in her blanket cocoon.

"One more episode... just one," she whispered to the empty room, already queueing up the next adventure.

And then she switched to a reality TV show, so she can see him appeared on screen.

Kyle Banner—Commander Kyle Banner, fearless acrobat and elite triathlon champion—skated into the scene, his gravity-defying stunts as sharp and fluid as ever. His toned, athletic form radiated cool confidence, his wild, windswept hair catching the light just right. He landed with a dynamic twist and flashed that signature rogue grin that never failed to make Bellina's heart skip a beat.

"OK, maybe this is really why I am up late tonight..." she muttered, cheeks warming despite herself.

Kyle’s voice rang out, steady and commanding, as he rallied his team against the advancing techno-beasts. His daring mid-air rescue of Skeiner had her gripping the blanket tighter, breath held through the entire sequence.

Tomorrow’s worries could wait. For now, she was back in the world where anything could be solved with courage, skill, and just a bit of showmanship—preferably from Kyle Banner.

The following morning:

"Fifty percent!?"

"What's with that reaction...?" said Reena flatly.

"That's just too much!"

"The client was also too peeved."

"It's not my fault her little beast stirred up all that trouble."

"The customer's always king, Bell. Always."

"Tch..."

"That's life."

"That's life here in Kaleido, you mean," she quipped, rueful.

"You should be grateful you live here, girl! Free housing, free utilities, free cable car, too. Everything that hurts have been covered, yo." Cough. "In exchange for unbridled free market, on everything else."

Kaleido’s "unbridled free market" was both a marvel and a menace—a sprawling, living organism that pulsed with relentless commerce and cold efficiency. Officially, the city government promised its citizens a safety net through an extensive network of Core Subsidies—guaranteeing basics like housing, energy, water, and public transit. These were overseen by the City Manager through towering bureaucratic entities with names as clinical as their operations: Civic Sustenance Authority, Unified Transit Network, Essential Resource Allocation Board.

Healthcare, childcare, and education up to high school were also subsidized. What more can one ask for?

The catch? Everything else was left to the mercy of the free market.

Need something beyond the essentials? Welcome to the Marketplace Grid, where Dynamic Pricing Algorithms ruled. From fresh produce to personal electronics, prices could triple within minutes if demand surged—or crash just as fast if supply spiked. People checked their phones not for weather updates but for price surges on food, clothing, or even medical supplies.

Well… A few other city-states such as Millet City had rather curious twists.

Healthcare? Subsidized—but only emergency treatments. If you wanted advanced care or quicker service, you'd better have a private insurance plan from one of the Platinum Providers. Otherwise, prepare to wait... and wait...

Education? Public schooling was free—but notoriously underfunded. Most parents scrambled to enroll their kids in Sponsored Academies, where tuition fluctuated based on "market valuation"—often tied to test scores, attendance rates, and even "prospective future contributions" determined by predictive AI models.

Jobs? Every employment contract came with a "risk multiplier clause," meaning if you failed at a task, your pay could be docked—or even cut off entirely. Some firms even auctioned off job openings, with would-be workers bidding for roles based on how little they’d accept in wages.

Bellina remembered hearing about people who fell through the cracks—those who couldn’t keep up with the hustle that Reena preached. They became Drifters, living in makeshift communities outside the main districts, surviving on whatever menial tasks the Contract Exchange Hub threw their way.

The Corporate Dominion Pact, a loosely regulated alliance of major corporations, set the rules—or lack thereof. They claimed the system rewarded “initiative and adaptability.” Critics said it rewarded exploitation.

But the worst part? At least here in Kaleido the system didn’t feel like tyranny. Its gleaming, polished streets and shining skyways whispered promises of success, independence, and boundless opportunity. Even when the system crushed you, it did so with a polite, automated message thanking you for your participation. Welp, the City Manager still answered to the elected City Council, so he can’t be impolite, but then again, she can’t imagine how she would turn out in another city with a Mayor ruling the place like a warlord fief.

Bellina slumped against the nearest cubicle wall, her fingers clenched around the edge of her service tablet. The reality of a 50% cut hit her in the gut. She had placed life and limb on the line chasing that cat. And still, it wasn’t enough.

Reena crossed her arms, her expression unreadable beneath her sharp, no-nonsense bangs. “Better learn fast, Bell. You mess up, you pay.”

Bellina scoffed. “Mess up? I should’ve gotten hazard pay for that stunt! You try hauling some spoiled furball off a freight drone while dodging patrols.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Reena shrugged. “Client says you failed, so you failed.”

Bellina glared out the massive office window, where Kaleido’s glistening skyline stretched endlessly under a brilliant midday sun. From this high up, the city looked like a shimmering paradise.

“You can whine, or you can work,” Reena continued, her voice brisk. “Get back in the game, or get out.”

Bellina exhaled sharply, forcing down the growing knot of frustration. “Right... because being an absolute doormat is what keeps this whole place running.”

Reena raised an eyebrow. “Don’t kid yourself. What keeps it running is hustle. You’ve got two options: claw your way back—or fall.”

Bellina clenched her jaw but said nothing. She hated that Reena was right.

Her service tablet pinged sharply—a new assignment. She glanced down and felt her heart sink. Client: House Velcroft. Priority Urgent.

"Seriously? Again?"

Reena smirked. “Looks like you’ve got another shot.”

Without another word, Bellina snatched up her service gear and stormed toward the elevator. As she stepped into the lift, the last thing she saw was Reena, watching with a faint, knowing smirk. Hustle or fall.

The doors slid shut.