Filin stood at the edge of the bustling street, his gaze sweeping across Elysium—a city that was a monument to wealth. A glittering façade of glass and light, he thought. But beneath the surface, I can feel a current of unease.
Buildings clawed at the sky, crystalline mountains adorned with massive screens and innovative designs. Some spiraled toward the heavens, while others flaunted their purpose through bold architectural displays. The air hung heavy with a blend of manufactured floral scents and the sting of exhaust—a stark contrast to the city's gleaming exterior. A low thrum of activity filled the atmosphere: distant music, rushing vehicles, and overlapping conversations. Yet despite it all, the air quality was surprisingly clean—a testament to the city's advanced filtration systems.
The roads and walkways, impeccably maintained, spoke of a different kind of power. Wide avenues accommodated cyclists and pedestrians, their paths clearly separated. Overhead, sleek trains defying gravity zipped between towering structures, a scene that felt plucked straight from a dream.
Wealth isn't just displayed here, Filin realized. It's flaunted.
A sudden thought struck him.
Where are all the children?
I haven't seen anyone who looks younger than sixteen.
"Luka," Filin murmured, "I've been watching the crowds, and it's strange. I haven't seen a single person who looks under sixteen. Is that normal here?"
Luka chuckled dryly. "Ah, you noticed that, did you? No—it's not normal in most places, but it is here. Their parents—the wealthy ones—they don't let their kids outside. Too dangerous. Too many distractions. Too much… exposure."
He shrugged. "They're either in private, heavily secured academies or being tutored at home. This city isn't built for unsupervised youth."
Suddenly, a fleet of supercars and hypercars surged onto the road, engines roaring as they crossed at terrifying speeds. They didn't slow for turns—instead, they drifted effortlessly, tires screeching across the asphalt.
A voice burst from the crowd, filled with excitement.
"Hey! Hahahaha! Look at these kids driving low-level luxury cars! Bugattis! Koenigseggs!"
Another voice laughed.
"No one here owns an EMP-branded car—only the president does, I think."
In this city, Filin mused, driving fast isn't a crime. It's a privilege.
Between the wide roads, railway tracks snaked through the city, adding to its layered design. The place felt like a playground built exclusively for the affluent.
As the traffic settled, massive screens mounted on nearby buildings flickered to life.
A strikingly handsome man with sleek black hair appeared—his image dominating nearly every display. He occupied almost sixty percent of the advertisements, effortlessly promoting luxury watches, tailored clothing, advanced technology, and high-performance cars.
Yet something tied every advertisement together.
The EMP diamond logo.
It symbolized more than wealth—it represented perfection.
In Elysium, owning anything marked with EMP meant claiming a place among the elite.
The city continued to pulse with movement. Cars crossed lanes freely, engines growling like restless beasts. At the traffic signal, crowds gathered, faces filled with impatience and anticipation as they waited for the light to turn green.
Horns echoed. Voices overlapped. It was chaos—briefly paused by a red signal.
Then—
A handsome figure stood among the crowd.
A shocked gasp echoed behind Filin.
"Yes, it's him," someone said arrogantly. "Can't you see with your own eyes?"
"Do you even have eyes?" another snapped.
"What's wrong with these people?" Filin muttered, turning to Luka. "Why are they getting angry for no reason?"
"Filin, stop whispering in my ear," Luka replied irritably. "I don't like that."
"I'm not talking to you anymore," Filin said firmly.
After a moment, he sighed.
"Luka… sorry. I'm just curious. I came from a different country, you know. What's really going on in Aurelia—especially in Elysium?"
Luka waved him off. "They're always like this. Don't worry about it."
"Okay. I won't ask anymore. Please accept my apology."
Luka sighed. "By the way, what kind of work are you going to do? I can't support you forever. My girlfriend's coming this weekend, so find a place and move out."
Filin nodded.
I can do this. I don't want to be a burden.
I'll look for work today.
Maybe my cousin can help. Her father is the president of Aurelia.
My parents gave me her contact.
The signal turned green.
The crowd surged forward, expensive shoes tapping rhythmically against the pavement.
The man dressed in EMP attire began moving—each step precise, mechanical, almost choreographed.
Then—
Thump.
A man around forty-five collided directly with him.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"Did you see that?" someone whispered. "That old man is finished. He's rich, sure—but not rich enough to touch him."
The man trembled violently.
"Ah—s-sorry—please—I'm sorry…"
Sweat poured from his face as his hands shook uncontrollably.
A calm voice replied gently.
"Don't worry. No one's hurt. I'm leaving."
For a brief moment, something dangerous flickered in the man's eyes—gone before anyone noticed.
"Luka!" Filin said urgently. "Help him! Why is nobody helping?"
Luka rushed forward.
"Sir, take my hand. Stand up. He's already gone and accepted your apology. He's a good man."
Filin whispered, "I think I need to talk him."
Luka smiled faintly. "I'm Luka. I've lived here a long time. I see him every day."
He hesitated.
"After seeing him on TV so often, I thought he'd be arrogant. When I greeted him once, he didn't even reply."
"But after watching him for years, I realized—he's not good with words. He's kind. And very rich."
"He's the half-owner of EMP. No one knows who owns the other half."
Then he glanced at Filin.
"And don't forget—you're moving out before the weekend."
"Okay," Filin sighed. "But first—help me help this man."
The EMP-clad man continued down a side road.
People whispered as he passed.
"Look at him…"
"I want an EMP watch so badly."
"Go beg him! He'll probably give you one."
"Shut up. I really want one."
Nearby voices blended together.
"Let's grab night snacks."
"Buy some for the company."
"Hey, Sian—can I borrow your car? I've got a date."
The man walked on until the city opened before him.
A wide river shimmered beneath the night lights. Neon reflections rippled across the surface. A massive bridge arched overhead, glowing like a spine of light.
Food stalls lined the riverbank, laughter and warmth spilling into the night.
He lifted his hand to his mouth and muttered softly—
"Oha… let's go drink coffee. Like always."