(set: $name to (prompt: "''Eternal Bargain''
by Pannisy Zhao
Before we start...
What is your name?", ""))
It's morning. The sun is beaming in. You slowly open your eyes, check your phone, and notice that you got a LinkedIn message. You get a bit hopeful. It's been over five months since you started looking for a job...
[[Open LinkedIn message|linkedinmessage]]
You step outside of your apartment and take it all in.
You witness the happenings in any typical city. Skyscrapers and high buildings that conceal the clouds and sky. Bustling crowds of people of all ages and different backgrounds. Young adults dressed in blouses and dress shirts, speedwalking to their destinations with a coffee in hand. But one thing catches your eye.
Plastered over one face of a skyscraper is a digital ad. It displays a smiling old man with rounded glasses and a gray beard. Under his photo, there is a bolded red tagline: "Age is Just a Number." And on the bottom right corner: "Brought to you by LifeCorp."
''Make a choice:''
[[Approach a passerby and strike up a conversation about the ad.|passerby]]
[[*You are intrigued.* Schedule a consultation with Adam.|consultation]]You try to strike up a conversation with a few passerbys, but each time, they shut you down with "Not right now" or "Sorry, in a hurry." Until someone finally stops to hear you out.
She's an elderly woman in a well-coordinated pink outfit: pink trousers, pink flats, and a little pink hat. She grasps a cane in front of her with both hands and looks up at you with kind eyes and a soft smile, waiting for you to speak.
''Say something:''
[[*Point at digital ad.* "Have you seen that before?"|passerbyresponse1]]
[["I love your outfit. Where did you get it from?"|passerbyresponse2]]"Hi $name!
My name is Adam, and I'm a representative from LifeCorp. I see on your profile that you're a recent graduate open to work. Given your impressive qualifications and experience, I have no doubt that you have a bright future ahead you, but if you're currently unemployed in this slow job market, LifeCorp might be able to help you out! I'm sure you've heard of us before, but I'll give a quick background just in case.
LifeCorp is the global leading company in the Chrono market, where consumers can purchase and sell their lifetime years. A person's years will be subtracted or added through a surgical procedure, and their physical appearance will adjust accordingly over a week post-procedure.
If you're looking to make some income through life-year donation, please let me know your availability, and I can schedule you a consultation. Otherwise, if you have any other questions, please feel free to ask. I've personally donated 5 years before, and it was an incredibly easy process. I look forward to hearing back from you, $name!"
''Make a choice:
''
[[Response 1: Express interest in Adam's offer and schedule a consultation.|consultation]]
[[Response 2: Decline the offer and fire back by with a message about how the Chrono market is fundamentally unethical.|outside]]
[[Ignore message and get on with your day.|outside]]The old woman turns to face the ad and smiles. As she speaks, you notice how gentle her voice is.
"Yes. Isn't it peculiar? Ageism used to be an issue in my time, believe it or not. Good thing that's done and dusted. Life as an older lady has never been better."
She sighs.
Gosh... when did technology become so advanced? The internet, AI, now this. Donating lifetime. I remember when life and time were all we had. When I was younger, I was so anxious about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. I was so adamant about living life to the fullest. Guess none of that matters now. Just give me a load of money, and with a quick wire transfer, I can be young again."
She chuckles.
''Respond:
''
[[*Smile.* "Oh please, you don't look a day over 25."|passerbyexit1]]
[["Have you ever donated or bought time?"|passerbyexit2]]
The old woman's face lights up.
"Oh, thank you sweetheart! You just made my day. You really don't meet many friendly strangers these days."
She scans your face and notices what you're looking at.
"Ah... LifeCorp."
She sighs.
Gosh... when did technology become so advanced? The internet, AI, now this. Donating lifetime. I remember when life and time were all we had. When I was younger, I was so anxious about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Gosh, I was so adament about living life to the fullest. None of it mattered in the end. Just give me a load of money, and with a quick wire transfer, I can be young again."
She chuckles.
''Respond:''
[[*Smile.* "Oh please, you don't look a day over 25."|passerbyexit1]]
[["Have you ever donated or bought time?"|passerbyexit2]]*The old woman lets out a laugh and blushes.*
"Don't hype me up too much, or my ego is going to get too big for my head. Wait, I hope I didn't just age myself. Is it still in trend to say 'hype'?"
*Smile and nod.*
"Oh thank goodness. You know, even at my age, I would never buy time. Nor would I donate it if I could travel back in time. If you choose to believe that life is not just any object that you can buy or sell, but a gift that every human being is entitled to, then and only then will you appreciate the beauty of time and spend it wisely."
*Nod again.*
"Well. I have to get going. My daughter and grandson are waiting on me, but please promise me that you'll think about what I said. Time is the great equalizer."
[[Say your goodbyes, wish her well, and walk away.|FIRE]]The old woman smiles.
"I had a feeling that question was coming. Simple answer? No. You know, even at my age, I would never buy time. Nor would I donate it if I could travel back in time. If you choose to believe that life is not just any object that you can buy or sell, but a gift that every human being is entitled to, then and only then will you appreciate the beauty of time and spend it wisely."
*Nod.*
"Well. I have to get going. My daughter and grandson are waiting on me, but please promise me that you'll think about what I said. Time is the great equalizer."
[[Say your goodbyes, wish her well, and walk away.|FIRE]]Three weeks pass. It's consultation day.
You hop on the subway and get off at station "LifeCorp Park." Right as you exit the station, you see what looks like a neverending building with glass walls. You walk up the steps towards the main door, and as you walk in, a doorman holds open the door and greets you. He's dressed formally in all black.
"Welcome to LifeCorp Park."
You tell him you have an appointment with Adam, when he waves to a woman also dressed in all black. She swiftly walks over and looks down at her tablet.
"Welcome. It's $name, correct? Please follow me as I personally escort you to Adam's office."
[[Follow her.|lifecorpdescription]]As you follow the woman, you take note of your surroundings.
Every employee is dressed the same, head to toe in all black. Some of them are staring into their laptops in common spaces, and others are in their transparent offices speaking with clients. You can tell they're clients because they're wearing everyday clothes, just like you, with colors and patterns.
The woman guides you into a glass elevator. It starts traveling up, as you look through the glass, getting a glimpse of the outside. This is when you realize that the building wraps around like a donut, and the center is filled with greenery. You haven't seen anything so beautiful before. You spot Oaks, Sequoias, Maples; you think of a tree and it's here in LifeCorp Park.
The elevator stops. The door opens, and a man stands up his desk.
"Hello $name. I'm Adam. It's so nice to finally meet you in person. Please sit."
[[Walk over to the desk and sit down.|office]]Adam firmly shakes your hand and smiles.
"I apologize that it took so long for this consultation to happen. I hope you understand that due to the current poor economic condition, we've been overwhelmed with new clients looking to donate."
Adam quickly scans and shuffles through a pile of papers in a file.
"From your profile... ah yes, I remember now. You're a recent graduate. Unfortunately unemployed. I assume that you're interested in donating, not buying?"
''Respond:''
[["Yes. Times are a bit tough right now, and I need some cash to cover my rent and bills."|rundown]]
[["Um... I'm not exactly committed yet. I would love to get a little more information about the process."|rundown]]An expression of sympathy appears on Adam's face. You feel as if he truly empathizes with your situation, and it almost takes you by surprise, when his expression suddenly drops, and he starts giving you the rundown.
" Of course $name. I'm here to guide you through every step of the process. Transparency is a key value here at LifeCorp. It's quite simple really. You get $75,000 for each year that you donate. After we sort out how many years you want to donate, I'll have you sign a few papers regarding potential risks, waivers, legal permissions, and all that boring stuff. Then, we'll schedule the surgical procedure as well as a physical exam with the doctor who will perform your surgery. If they deem that you are physically healthy and eligible to donate, you will get the green light to undergo procedure. Your doctor will be the person to ask about post-procedure recovery, but from my experience, it took about a week for my physical appearance to fully change and set. Then after that, we will transfer the funds to your bank account, and you can finally go afford and live the life of your dreams."
Adam takes a pause.
"Not to get too personal, but I also donated right after I got out of college. I might understand what you're going through."
''Respond:''
[["Thanks for trusting me with that information, Adam. Life-year donation might be the right choice for me. I need a few more days to think about it, but I'll call you with an update."|outsidepasserby]]
[["I don't know... $75,000 a year feels a bit low in exchange for the potential experiences that I might miss out with my family and friends. I have to decline, but thank you for your time."|outsidepasserby]]You slowly walk home as you try to make sense of what the elderly woman meant.
"Time is the great equalizer."
You walk by a husky and watch it bark and howl as a firetruck and a squad of police cars drive by with their sirens wailing. You find the dog adorable and laugh to yourself.
But as you turn the street corner to your apartment, you see the fire.
Your apartment is burning [[down|family]].You leave LifeCorp Park and take the subway home. On your walk back from you station, you stop and take it all in.
You witness the happenings in any typical city. Skyscrapers and high buildings that conceal the clouds and sky. Bustling crowds of people of all ages and different backgrounds. Young adults dressed in blouses and dress shirts, speedwalking to their destinations with a coffee in hand. But one thing catches your eye.
Plastered over one face of a skyscraper is a digital ad. It displays a smiling old man with rounded glasses and a gray beard. Under his photo, there is a bolded red tagline: "Age is Just a Number." And on the bottom right corner: "Brought to you by LifeCorp."
You try to strike up a conversation with a few passerbys, but each time, they shut you down with "Not right now" or "Sorry, in a hurry." Until someone finally stops to hear you out.
She's an elderly woman in a well-coordinated pink outfit: pink trousers, pink flats, and a little pink hat. She grasps a cane in front of her with both hands and looks up at you with kind eyes and a soft smile, waiting for you to speak.
''Say something:''
[[*Point at digital ad.* "Have you seen that before?"|passerbyresponse1]]
[["I love your outfit. Where did you get it from?"|passerbyresponse2]]You don't have anywhere else to go, so you temporarily move in with your parents. They feel bad about your situation, but it seems like they're happy to have you around again. It feels just like old times.
You take some time to grieve the loss of your home, when you finally get a call back from your insurance agent.
"I need to speak to you immediately. Come into my office. Cancel whatever plans you might have. It's important."
[[Go to the insurance agency.|2mil]]You open the door to your insurance agent's office.
She greets you. You sit down. She looks serious and starts speaking without wasting any time.
"First and foremost, I want to express my sincere condolences for the loss you've experienced due to the fire. It's undoubtedly a challenging and emotional time for you, and I want to assure you that we are here to support you through this process.
As your insurance agent, I need to address a crucial aspect of your situation. The estimated cost of rebuilding your home is substantial, and while your insurance policy will help cover a significant portion of the expenses, there may still be a significant balance remaining. This is where your current mortgage comes into play.
The amount you owe on your apartment is based on your outstanding mortgage balance, which has not been fully paid off. Typically, when a home is severely damaged or destroyed, the mortgage still needs to be repaid to the lending institution. The insurance payout will be made directly to the mortgage lender to settle the outstanding debt, and the remaining funds will be provided to you for rebuilding or relocating, as specified in your policy terms.
Right now, you owe about 2 million dollars..."
''Respond:''
[["What!? How am I supposed to pay that off?"|onlyoption]]
[[Say nothing.|onlyoption]]"I know it's daunting to see a figure of 2 million dollars. I understand that most people do not have that amount of money readily available, so I'm here to discuss your options... more like [[your only option|donation]]."
"According to your files, when you mortgaged your apartment, you put something very valuable up for collateral."
The insurance agents scans your face to see if you know what she's referring to.
You're confused.
"Um, when you mortgaged your apartment, you put down your lifetime years as collateral. That means if you cannot pay off what you owe, which is 2 million dollars, you will have to pay it off through lifetime donation.
Given that each lifetime year converts to $75,000, you would lose exactly 26 years and 8 months of your life to pay off 2 million dollars."
''Make a choice:''
[[Respond: "Is there anything else I can do?"|options1]]
[[Fuck that. Run out of the office.|runaway]]"Unfortunately, there are no other options. You must pay or donate about 27 years. If you fail to do so, your loaning institution is likely to get the police involved.
I am so sorry. I wish I could do more to help."
''Make a choice:''
[[Response 1: "I guess I have no choice but to donate."|lifecorp]]
[[Response 2: "This is ridiculous. You can't just steal a chunk of my lifetime."|steal]]
[[Run out of the office and flee.|runaway]]
It's donation day. You go to LifeCorp. You see a woman standing at the front door. As her gaze follows you, you realize that she has been waiting for your arrival.
"It's $name right?"
You nod solemnly.
You are led up to the patient room. As a nurse takes your vitals and preps you for the procedure, your heart starts pounding. You start panicking. And [[overthinking|thoughts]]. You take the subway back to your parents' place. You pound on the door.
Your mom opens the door. "Hey sweetie, how ar--"
You cut her off and run to your room. You grab your duffel bag and frantically throw whatever pieces of clothing you see first into it. Your mom is concerned and asking you for an explanation, but you ignore her.
You hop into a cab as she runs after you. "$name! What is going on?! I-"
You slam the cab door. You tell the driver to drive and watch her as she runs after the car. You don't have a plan for where you're going but wonder if this is the [[last time|police]] you'll ever see her.
"I know this is a tough pill to swallow, but you willingly signed the contract. I understand it was a small risk back then, and this rarely happens, but unfortunately, it happened to you. I'm sorry, $name.
I must connect you to a LifeCorp representative now to schedule your donation. Maybe they can do more for you than I can."
''Make a choice:''
[[Schedule your donation.|lifecorp]]
[[Run out of the office and flee.|runaway]]
26 years and 8 months.
You think about all that you can do with that time. You think about your friends, family, how happy your parents were when you last stayed with them.
You think about college and remember how you only graduated five months ago. You remember the drunken parties, the late-night heart-to-hearts, the long days you spent studying with friends as you all dreamed of doing something great in the world.
You think about how much you've grown. You remember how naive you were in freshman year. And that was only four years ago.
You do the math and realize that you could relive your college experience six times over the span of 26 years. Six. times.
You grow more anxious.
''Make a choice:''
[[Make a run for it and flee.|runaway]]
[[Accept your fate.|end]]You wake up in a patient room. The nurse tells you that your surgery went well, so you return to your parents' home on the same day.
During your first week back, you spend most of your time in bed. You rest and recover.
On day 7, you muster up the strength to go face yourself in the mirror. The doctor said that the aging process should be over by now. That means you're now 50 years old.
You get out of bed. You feel tired. Your back hurts, and it takes more energy to move.
You look in the mirror. You feel horrified yet the slightest bit of comfort. The person you see in the mirror looks familiar; they resemble your parents. You see forehead wrinkles and fine lines around your mouth. Your skin feels rougher, and your hair looks thinner.
You stand in front of the mirror for quite a while and stare blankly ahead. You grieve the loss of what people call the greatest years of your life. As you guys get on the highway. You hear sirens. You cross your fingers.
The sound of the sirens gets closer and closer. You check the rearview mirror. Three police cars are tailing you.
You plead for the cab driver to keep going, but he pulls over.
"Exit the vehicle with your hands up. [[Now.|end]]"