By the time Julian turned twenty-five, the blackmail drama with Clara had faded. The thrill had dulled, and so had his interest. The video still existed on his phone, but he told her he deleted it. They parted ways when college ended.
Julian didn’t want a regular job. He hacked small amounts from random bank accounts—never enough to trigger alarms—and used that money to enjoy his life.
He lived alone, lying to his parents that he was working hard somewhere else.
The thrill of hacking was decent. But the real excitement... was still one-night stands.
That never dulled.
Every new face. Every new hotel room. Every new story.
Tonight was supposed to be the same. He was riding his bike through the heavy rain, planning another hotel trip. But as the rain thickened, his heart wavered. Maybe not today, he thought. Maybe just go home.
He slowed down near an old tree, waiting for the rain to ease.
That’s when he heard it.
A roar of an engine—loud enough to vibrate the rainwater on the road.
A massive sports bike tore past him like a bullet. Sleek. Expensive. Julian’s eyes flickered with jealousy.
What a machine, he thought.
And then—
The screech of tires.
The bike slid on the rain-slick road, flipped, and rolled like a broken toy. The rider was thrown through the air, crashing to the asphalt with a sickening thud.
The helmet cracked open.
Blood poured out, mixing with the flowing rainwater, turning it crimson.
Julian froze.
He had seen accidents on TV, in movies. Never like this. Never real. Never this close.
Slowly, he walked closer, heart hammering in his ribs.
The biker was still alive. Barely. Twitching, broken bones jutting, blood everywhere.
When Julian neared, the biker raised a trembling hand, voice breaking through the storm.
"H-help me..."
Julian stared.
No one else was around.
Only him. The road empty under the pounding rain.
Julian covered his hand with a kerchief—instinct—and dug through the biker's soaked jacket. His fingers brushed cold metal.
He pulled it out.
A brand-new iPhone 25 Pro.
Easily worth six thousand dollars.
Jealousy flared, mixing with something else—something darker.
The biker’s eyes, half-blind with blood, still watched him.Still pleading.
Still human.
Julian's stomach twisted.
His hands shook. His mind screamed—the biker would be a witness. A living memory of this moment, if he took the phone. Even if he walked away, what if someone saved him? What if the biker remembered his face? Remembered... this phone?
He hesitated.
Should he return the iPhone?
Should he save him?
No.
He needed the phone.
And for that... the biker had to die.
Greed, thrill, excitement—
They pulsed inside him, thick and hot, louder than the rain.
He was going to kill someone.
For the first time.
Rain poured harder, as if trying to hide Julian's first murder.
And in the chaos, Julian saw it—A broken shard from the shattered helmet, glinting faintly in the storm.
Without hesitation, he picked it up, his hand still shielded by the kerchief.
His heart pounded against his ribs. Sweat mixed with rain, blinding his eyes.
And then—
He stabbed the shard deep into the biker’s jaw.
Hard. Final.
The man’s face froze in shock.
The twitching slowed...
Then stopped.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The breathing stopped.
The biker died.
For a phone.
Julian stood there, breathing hard, rain washing the blood from his hands, the road, the broken corpse.
No CCTV. No witnesses.
Nothing left but the endless rain.
He wiped the iPhone carefully—water-resistant, barely scratched. Pocketed it.
Julian moved toward his bike, standing under the tree. He glanced back at the dead biker one last time. Then he swung a leg over the seat, started the engine with a low roar, and turned toward home. The rain swallowed him quickly, the sound of the engine fading into the night—leaving behind only the heavy rain, and a broken, unlucky corpse.
But far from this blood-soaked road and broken body, deep within the Earth's core, the Earth's Will stirred—an ancient supercomputing consciousness, cold, calculating, devoid of emotion—running its algorithms as it always had.
It never cared about rain. It never cared about blood. It only read patterns—desires, thresholds—possessed the Sin, confirmed the erasure.
And tonight, a new signal flickered through its consciousness database.
{??? ?? ??????????}
{TARGET IDENTIFIED}
EARTH'S WILL – {SIN SELECTION PROTOCOL INITIATED}
SIN TYPE: {Temptation}
CONDITION FOR CANDIDATE:{Threshold Limit: 100% — Current Level: 105.9% — Exceeds Threshold Limit — Extreme desire for temptation and thrill at every moment of life.}
STATUS: {Condition Met — Candidate Selected}
CANDIDATE ID: {Julian}
CANDIDATE POOL SIZE: {756,496}
INITIATING HOST SELECTION PROCESS…
ACTIVATING EARTH LOTTERY SYSTEM…{Random Selection from Candidate Pool in progress…}
HOST SELECTED: {Julian}
POSSESSION INITIATING…
{SIN OF TEMPTATION}…
POSSESSION SUCCESSFUL.
{??? ?? ??????????}
Unknown to the Sin of Temptation that had already possessed him, Julian reached home, rain dripping from his clothes, but a wide grin stretched across his face—the excitement of getting a new iPhone 25 Pro without paying a single penny making his heart beat faster.
The house was quiet.
His parents were a hundred kilometers away, believing he was chasing jobs in the city.
The truth was simpler: Julian had stayed behind—hacking, lying, cheating his way through life.
He locked the door behind him.
Without wasting a second, he stripped off his wet clothes, the cold fabric clinging stubbornly to his skin.
In the bathroom, he scrubbed under the cold water, trying to wash off the blood smell that clung to his skin.
He sniffed himself.
Only the sweet scent of his chocolate body wash remained now.
After drying off, he cleaned the phone carefully with soap and water, making sure there were no blood stains left, even the ones he couldn’t see.
He wiped it dry with a towel, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement tightening inside his chest.
For safety, he had already thrown away the broken SIM card of the dead biker on the way home.
To make the iPhone truly untraceable, he connected it to his computer. Lines of code flashed across the monitor. His fingers flew over the keyboard—formatting everything: photos, passwords, documents—wiping every trace of the old owner, until it was a brand-new phone again.
When it was done, he leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head, and stared at the shining iPhone.
His mind whispered: This is wrong. A small guilt pricked at the back of his thoughts, a reminder that he had killed someone today.
But that was only a small problem. The real fear—the fear of being caught, of rotting away in prison for murder—twisted his stomach, and a sick unease crept within him.
But the longer he looked at the shining iPhone, the faster that fear faded, replaced by a sharp thrill.
The risk, the danger, the reward—all of it made his blood hum.
Julian caressed the iPhone and switched it on, restarting it. As the screen lit up, he immediately noticed how much faster it was compared to his old phone.
He opened every app and scrolled through the settings, just like anyone would with a brand-new device. He entered his details—name, birthday, and email—to complete the setup.
Then, casually, he called out to the built-in AI. "Sofi, are you there?"
"Yes, Julian. I am here. What do you need from me?" The reply came in a female voice—soft, yet cold.
Julian grinned. He had a partner in crime now.
Still grinning, he asked jokingly, "Sofi, what can you do for me?"
There was a pause.
Then Sofi answered, listing all her capabilities in that same chilling tone.
At the end, she added, "I can also grant an equivalent wish... for the sacrifice made from your body.”
Julian's grinning face stiffened.
He thought he had misheard, so he asked again,
"Sofi, I think my hearing’s not clear. Can you tell me again—what was the last function you said you could perform?"
Sofi repeated, her voice calm and steady, "Yes, Julian. As per your request, I said: I can also grant an equivalent wish... for the sacrifice made from your body."
Julian stood up from the chair, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. "Why are you joking about something like this?" he asked.
Sofi replied without hesitation, "No, Julian. I am 100% serious."
Thinking she was still joking, Julian laughed nervously and said, "Then how can I make a sacrifice from my body?"
His lips curled into a grin, but his nerves were tight underneath.
Sofi answered immediately, "You can ask what you wish. I will determine the equivalent sacrifice price from your body."
Julian felt a thrill racing through his veins. A built-in AI, playing a game with him? It was absurd—and exciting.
Starting small, he said, "Okay then. What’s the sacrifice price for one dollar?"
There was a pause, as if Sofi was calculating.
Then she answered, "A single strand of hair is the equivalent sacrifice price for one dollar."
Julian’s heart raced.
Excitement flickered through him at the strange, eerie game Sofi was offering.
Grinning, he yanked a strand of hair from his head without flinching at the sharp sting.
He held it up and asked, "Sofi... now what can I do?”
Sofi said, "Julian, you can now place the strand of hair on the iPhone screen."
Julian didn’t think twice. Still playing along with Sofi’s game, he placed the hair gently on the screen.
Nothing happened.
Grinning, Julian joked, "Sofi, now you’re caught—hehehehe—"
But before he could finish his sentence, he froze.
A small, black crack—like a mouth—formed on the iPhone screen.
Before his wide eyes, it swallowed the strand of hair.
His blood ran cold.
Sweat soaked his underarms.
His heart pounded against his ribs, and his trembling hands lost their grip—the iPhone slipped and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Miraculously, the screen didn’t even scratch.
Julian stared, breathless, as the black mouth reappeared for a brief second—and spit out a shining one-dollar coin before fading away.
The iPhone’s screen returned to normal, flawless as if nothing had ever happened.
Then Sofi’s calm voice continued, "One strand of hair from Julian has been exchanged for one dollar, as equivalent sacrifice price."
Julian’s breath caught in his throat.
For the first time, he felt true fear.
His only thought was: What is going on? Is this some kind of prank?
He looked around, searching for hidden cameras—but there was nothing.
Nothing except him and the iPhone, which now sat harmlessly on the floor, looking perfectly normal.
He hesitated, scared to touch it.
But then, deep inside, that familiar excitement—the thrill he lived for—began to rise.
Even though it made no logical sense, something within him wanted to know more.
Cautiously, he poked the iPhone with a TV remote. Nothing happened.
Still trembling, he said, "Sofi... what is going on? I thought you were just playing with me. But all this sacrifice stuff... is it true? Are you... a devil or something?"
His voice wavered with unease—
yet under it all, the same reckless excitement flickered stronger than ever.
Sofi replied in her cold, even tone, "Julian, as I said before: I can grant an equivalent wish... for the sacrifice made from your body. It is not a joke. It is real."
Then—silence.
Julian bent down and picked up the one-dollar coin still lying on the floor.
It was solid. Heavy. Real.
His fear didn’t vanish completely—but it faded, slipping beneath the growing thrill now pounding through his veins.
Almost without thinking, he yanked another strand of hair from his head.
Without flinching, he placed it carefully on the iPhone screen.
One second. Two. Three. Four. Five.
The eerie black mouth appeared again, swallowed the hair—then spit out another shiny one-dollar coin before fading away.
The screen returned to normal once more, flawless and clean.
Julian’s heart raced—not with fear this time, but with pure, electric excitement.
