Binding process complete.
Welcome to the Multidimensional Merchant System.
Host successfully bound.
I stared at the translucent blue panel floating in front of my face, wondering if the instant ramen I'd eaten for dinner three days straight had finally given me food poisoning-induced hallucinations.
The panel was simple, almost brutally so. Just clean lines and text that somehow managed to be both futuristic and ancient at the same time.
Name: Alex Sinclair
Age: 20
Lifespan Remaining: 74 years
Merchant Level: 0
Progress to Level 1: 0/100 points
Current Points: 1
One point. After months of backbreaking work, scraping together every cent from my delivery job, surviving on the cheapest food I could find, sleeping in a shoe box apartment so small I could touch both walls while lying in bed... one single point.
I should probably explain how I got here. Let me rewind a bit.
Three months ago, I was making a delivery to some rich guy's penthouse. The kind of place where the doormat probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. I'd just dropped off his overpriced organic meal kit when I spotted something wedged between the elevator doors, a tarnished coin that looked like it had been minted sometime around the Bronze Age or last century. Could it be either, I am no coin expert.
I tried to grab it because, in my current financial situation, even a penny helps.
The moment my fingers touched it, the world went white.
When I could see again, a mechanical voice had informed me that I'd been selected as a potential host for the Multidimensional Merchant System. Potential being the keyword. To actually bind the system to myself, I needed to complete a qualifying trade. Something valuable enough for me to prove I was serious about this merchant business.
"Define valuable," I'd asked the empty air, probably looking like a complete lunatic.
The system recommends trading an item of significant personal or monetary value. The quality of your initial trade will affect your starting benefits.
So there I was, faced with a choice. I could sell something small and easy, get the system bound quickly, and start with basically nothing. Or I could go all in, trade something substantial, and hopefully get a better foundation.
I chose option two. Because I'm either very smart or very stupid, and I still haven't figured out which.
Every cent from three months of deliveries went into buying a decent laptop. Not top of the line, but good enough that selling it hurt. I'd listed it online, found a buyer, and completed the transaction, and...
One point.
A thousand-dollar laptop. Three months of back-breaking hard work.
One point.
"System," I said, slumping against the wall of my shoebox apartment, "please tell me this gets easier."
Merchant Level 0, restrictions apply. Host may only trade physical goods through standard channels. Access to dimensional markets requires 100 points.
"Right. Cool. So I just need to make ninety-nine more trades like that." I did the math in my head and immediately wished I hadn't. At this rate, I'd be thirty before I could access whatever magical marketplace the system kept hinting at.
I pulled up the shop interface, mostly out of morbid curiosity. Hundreds of options greeted me, all grayed out and locked behind level requirements I couldn't even see yet. It was like looking at a video game skill tree when you're still level one, everything promising and nothing accessible.
Except for one item.
Bronze Ring of Connection (Single Use)
Cost: 1 point
Description: A one-time item that can be transferred to a prospective client matching user-defined parameters. Establishes connection between merchant and client.
I focused on it, and more information bloomed across my vision.
This ring will seek out and bind to an individual matching your specified criteria. Once worn, it creates a direct communication channel between merchant and client. Note: The ring contains a minor compulsion to ensure it is worn, but cannot force a transaction. All trades must be mutually agreed upon.
"So it's basically a really expensive business card," I muttered. "That I can only send to one person. And I need to already have something they want."
The system, as usual, said nothing. I'd learned over the past few months that it only responded to direct questions, and even then, it was about as chatty as a brick wall.
"System, what can I actually sell?" I asked, pulling my knees up to my chest. My apartment was cold. It was always cold. The heating barely worked, not that I could have afforded to run it anyway.
Anything the host possesses can be sold through the system. Current merchant level permits sale of: physical goods, biological materials, intangible personal attributes.
I sat up straighter. "Wait, back up. Intangible personal attributes?"
Host may sell aspects such as: luck, intelligence, appearance, health, lifespan, memories, skills, and other quantifiable personal resources. Warning: At current merchant level, host may only SELL these resources, not purchase them. This restriction will be lifted upon advancing the merchant level further.
My mind went blank for a second, then started racing. I could sell my lifespan? Just... trade years of my life for money or points or whatever?
"That's insane," I said to the empty room.
That is business.
"That's not... that's not normal commerce!"
The system didn't respond. Apparently, it had used up its quota of sass for the day.
I stood up and started pacing, which in my apartment meant taking about three steps before hitting a wall. Okay. Think this through logically.
I could sell physical things, but that would take forever at the rate of one point per thousand dollars.
I could sell luck, but I was already pretty unlucky, so that seemed like a bad idea. I would probably choke on water if I were to lose any more luck.
Intelligence? Hell no. I needed every brain cell I had. God hadn't been particularly generous in that department either.
Health? Also terrible idea.
That left lifespan.
I pulled up my status again. Seventy-four years remaining. The system had calculated it somehow, probably taking into account my current health, lifestyle, and the fact that I didn't smoke, drink, or have any similar bad habits. It helps that I can't afford to have such habits; otherwise, I'd have probably drunk myself to death long ago.
"If I sell ten years," I said slowly, "I'd still have sixty-four. That's still longer than a lot of people get."
Confirmed. Host may sell up to 50% of remaining lifespan without requiring additional confirmation.
Fifty percent? That was generous. Or terrifying. Probably both.
I thought about my life. Really thought about it. Crappy apartment. Dead-end job. No family, the orphanage had made sure I understood I was on my own the day I turned eighteen.
No real friends, just coworkers who barely knew my name. Every day was the same grey struggle to make rent and eat enough to function.
This system, whatever it was, was the first interesting thing that had happened to me in twenty years of existence.
"You know what?" I said, feeling a reckless energy building in my chest. "Screw it. I'm all in. People dream their whole lives about getting a chance like this. If I have to pay for it with time I probably would have wasted anyway, that's a bargain."
I pulled up the shop and selected the bronze ring.
Purchase confirmed. 1 point deducted. Current balance: 0 points.
The ring materialized in my hand, solid and slightly warm. It looked like something you'd find in a museum, covered in tiny symbols I couldn't read.
Please define target parameters.
Right. I needed to send this to someone who would actually trade with me. Someone who wanted what I was selling badly enough to take a chance on mysterious supernatural commerce.
"System, I want the ring to go to someone who meets these criteria: wealthiest person within global range, known to be terminally ill or dying soon, desperate enough to believe in unconventional solutions, and willing to pay anything for more time."
Parameters accepted.
Scanning global population.
Target acquired.
Dispatching ring.
The bronze circle vanished from my palm.
I waited.
And waited.
An hour passed. Then two. The system gave me nothing, no confirmation, no update, no indication that anything was happening.
Panic started to set in around the three-hour mark. What if I'd wasted my only point? What if the ring didn't work? What if the person just threw it away without putting it on? I couldn't earn points through normal work anymore; everything had to go through the system now. And I couldn't access the system's real features without points.
I'd locked myself into a gamble with no backup plan.
"Brilliant, Alex," I muttered, lying back on my bed. "Really stellar decision-making. You could have just sold the laptop normally and kept saving. But no, you had to go for the magical mystery system."
The ceiling of my apartment had a water stain shaped like a depressed turtle. I'd spent a lot of time looking at that stain over the past year. At this point, it was almost like a beloved pet.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew-