An Author's Struggle - What Lies Ahead

Ch 15 - Surgery

Time passed fleetingly at first, but then the wait became excruciating. The day of the surgery approached, one slow hour at a time.

He lingered around Cluj in the meanwhile, relaxing in nature’s embrace. He trekked through the woods that became less and less welcoming to humans, and marveled at the rebellious Carpathian peaks piercing towards the occluded sky.

Without a laptop, Murphy couldn’t publish anything new, so he had ample time to roam and explore. He considered writing in a cafe or from his phone, but couldn’t really get into it.

His vacation was awe inspiring at first, but got seriously tedious after a few days. He became anxious in his steps, and no longer had eyes to admire Gaia’s figure.

His pre-scheduled chapters were dwindling down one at a time, and before long he’d lose his publishing streak. That would be an unimaginable setback for his career.

It wasn’t dubbed a slave contract for nothing, after all. Writers were incentivized to publish daily, or they would lose the promotion that made their work viable in the first place.

If they could simply take breaks and write at their leisure, then it wouldn’t be much of a slave collar. Both the carrot and the stick worked around this rigorous daily quota system.

Fortunately, time did its usual thing, and the wait was over.

“Today, we’re at the NeuraBlink clinic in Cluj Napoca, where a historical experiment is set to take place. Hundreds of people signed up for the procedure that might become the first step in elevating humanity to previously unreachable heights!

“Whether XCorp becomes able to uplift us into a new era, or the CEO’s promise falls short again, stay with us and find out live — on Prime Romania!”

Walking past the news crews and avoiding the cameras, Murphy blended into the small crowd and made his way into the security line.

He took a bit of time to trim down his beard and arrange his hair. Though his clothes still reeked of the lower class, he was at least presentable.

Looking around, he saw that the majority were scions of rich families looking to get a kick out of the program. Few were as insane as him, to mortgage everything on a loan that may or may not pay off. 

He did spot one in the queue that stood out, and not necessarily in a good way. A swan among peacocks and colorful pheasants, she might pass unassuming if she weren’t the tallest.

Sporting a worn and simple white summer dress, she stood in stark contrast to the brats boasting expensive brands. Compared to a pristine canvas that gently emphasized her homely features, they were like walking advertisement boards, flashy and tiresome on the eyes.

The current trends were reminiscent of a popular game depicting a 2077 dystopia. Wearing baggy clothes with sown in LEDs that shone bright even in daylight, they seemed like a costume convention crowd.

A waterfall of auburn hair made the contrast all the more glaring, and everyone soon found their gaze drawn towards her. Without adorning any expensive jewels, she nonetheless shone the brightest.

Despite trying to feign ignorance, a faint blush crept on her face as the peacocks showered her with attention. 

Some offered up their spots on the queue, which in retrospect seemed like a bad idea. Before long, the others copied her and she made it inside, out of sight. Having cut their display short, the men groaned in chagrin. 

Murphy smiled in bemusement, but the corners of his eyes hid a trace of longing as well. He wished he could also have women as his foremost priority. Unfortunately, there was too much worrying him to give a shit about a pretty lady.

Eye candy though she was, he didn’t think much of it, and continued to wait impatiently for his turn. As it turned out, there was no point for skipping the security queue. 

Once they made it past basic security and had their phones taken away, they were invited to wait in a hall. They would undergo surgery in pairs of two, based on the sign-up order.

“Mr. Murphy and Ms. Eleanor, numbers 57 and 58, please proceed through hall B.”

Hearing his name on the speakers, Murphy stood up impatiently and followed the lights over. Too busy staring at the floor markings, he only noticed the red-headed girl when they reached the doors. 

Mildly surprised at his stroke of fortune, Murphy gave her a closer look-over and smiled amiably. Then, unwilling to come off as crass, forced his sight away towards the end of the hall. He was more interested in the procedure, anyway.

“Nervous?” her voice sounded out, merely an attempt to stem the awkwardness.

Too focused staring at nothing, Murphy’s response was a surprised “Huh?”

“I asked if you’re nervous,” she doubled down, the small talk seeming to hold some meaning now.

“Not really,” he answered as if thoughtful, taking the chance to ogle her again, “I’m just excited to see what this implant is really capable of.”

“Is that why you got it? Curiosity?”

Not minding the more personal nature of her question, Murphy smiled along and answered the worthless chatter. 

“I wouldn’t say I wanted to get it. Frankly, it’s more of a matter of needing it. In my opinion, anyone who isn’t out of options but signs up for this is insane.”

Realizing the category might include her as well, he added a brisk “no offense” at the end, as if it would undo his remark.

“I agree,” she chuckled and looked back at the busied hall full of angsty birds, “I was kinda forced to get it for my job.”

“Oh?” he remarked somewhat in relief, “What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m an online editor,” Eleanor chirped without much enthusiasm, “Novels and fiction, that kind of stuff.”

“Oh. You don’t say… I’m a writer in that sphere as it so happens,” he laughed, mildly amused at her bashful attitude towards her career. 

He was all too familiar with how people looked on at this ‘job’. It was like claiming you’re a video streamer in the early 2010’s. Everyone would scorn you, even if the paycheck was viable.

Admittedly, he was no Rowling or King, but it’s not as if webnovels were a super small niche. They deserved some respect too, god damn it. 

Before they could share more details of their coincidental similarity, a nurse ushered them into the surgery room. Their chat cut short, they could only smile at each other as they parted ways.

The labs were two adjacent rooms. Despite seeming opulent at first glance, they were filled with all kinds of monitoring devices that didn’t make it more inviting than a dentist’s office.

A comfortable chair sat in the middle of the room, with a robot arm lingering above it like a claw ready to tear his innards out. 

Even as he prayed there were no error in its code, he sat down and was promptly strapped tightly to it, unable to move even his head. 

Imagining the red-head next door experiencing the same discomforts, he smiled and calmed down, ready for the procedure to begin.

As nurses and doctors streamed in and out of the room, various scans were performed on him. 

“Consciousness readings are fully synchronized with the chip,” a scientist voiced out, “Retinal implantation can commence.”

Something was injected in his cheeks, and he lost sense of his face. His head was numbed in an instant, relieving him of the pain to come. His gaze grew blurry, but he could somewhat see the outline of a metallic arm reach for his right eye.

He instinctively tried to close it, but his eyelid seemed too heavy to move on its own. He could only watch as it drew closer and closer, filling his field of view.

His vision darkened in an instant, though he could barely see some blue flickers streaming across it. The robot then moved on to the left and did the same.

Before it could complete the process…

Boom!