Finding a job is hard. Very hard.
Honestly, if someone were to ask which is more difficult, job hunting or climbing Mount Everest, ten out of ten people would answer without hesitation, finding a job.
At least if you climb Mount Everest, you freeze to death within a few hours. But if you look for work, you go insane little by little every day, especially whenever an email notification comes in and it is just another rejection.
It has been almost two years since Leonard earned his bachelor's degree in Robotics Engineering and AI from a once prestigious university.
Back when he chose his major, his academic advisor told him, "This is the field of the future, son. Companies will fight over you once you graduate."
And he was right. Two years after graduation, Leonard was indeed being swarmed, by bills and predatory credit card offers.
He has sent out more than five hundred applications. Not an exaggeration. More than five hundred. From positions that matched his qualifications such as industrial robot technician and AI programmer for startups, to manual jobs that did not even require a high school diploma: courier, warehouse packer, night guard. He even applied to become a skyscraper window cleaner.
And do you know how many calls he received?
Nine. Nine online interview invitations in two years.
And the day after every interview, there was always the same email: "After careful consideration, we have decided to proceed with another candidate. We wish you success in your continued job search."
Whenever there was a job opening, he applied immediately. It did not matter whether the salary was small or large, office work or field work, formal or informal. All he cared about was being able to survive. And yet...
He let out a long sigh.
"In this era, people compete to become slaves. As long as they can eat, as long as they can pay their installments. Isn't this worse than the Middle Ages? At least back then, if you were a slave, you knew your position. Now? You're free. Free to starve."
All this chaos has a root called insane capitalism carried by technology. It began around the 2020s when AI started spreading. At that time, AI was just an assistant, a tool.
Entering the 2030s, the AI Boom truly struck. Major technology companies began replacing administrative workers, customer service agents, and even journalists with AI that could work 24/7 without salary, without leave, and without complaints.
Did people protest? Of course. But protests could not fight efficiency. Companies that used AI were able to cut operational costs by up to 60 percent.
Small companies that could not adopt the technology were pushed out one by one. They could not compete with the efficiency of the giants. They went bankrupt. Then their employees were laid off. But at least at that time, manufacturing and service sectors still offered jobs.
Then came the Robot Boom in 2050. That was what truly destroyed everything. Imagine AI that once existed only on computer screens suddenly gaining a body. These new robots no longer required humans to operate them.
Automated factories ran 24 hours nonstop with thousands of robots that never complained and never asked for raises. Fast food restaurants began using robotic servers. Autonomous trucks replaced long distance drivers. Even street cleaners, gardeners, and domestic helpers could all be replaced.
Large corporations with trillions in capital bought thousands of these robots. Their productivity skyrocketed. Their production costs plummeted. They could sell goods at prices that small and medium businesses relying on human workers simply could not match.
As a result, within five years, more than 70 percent of small and medium enterprises went bankrupt. They could not compete. And when they collapsed, millions of their employees lost their jobs.
As technology kept advancing, even large corporations began reducing their workforce. Why maintain 10,000 employees when 1,000 employees and 5,000 robots could produce twice the output?
Efficiency, they said.
Innovation, they said.
The future, they said.
"Bullshit," I said.
Nearly 90 percent of jobs that were once considered secure disappeared within a decade.
Now, in 2056, the official unemployment rate in this country has reached 63 percent. Unofficially? Maybe over 70 percent. Even those who work are mostly temporary laborers with three month contracts renewed every three months, without health insurance, without pension funds, and without certainty.
Gig economy, they say. Flexibility, they say.
Damn it.
And above it all, a handful of people who own shares in massive technology corporations have seen their wealth swell beyond imagination. They build cities above cities, luxurious enclaves in the sky, while below on the ground, people crowd into slums.
Society, once divided into upper, middle, and lower classes, now has only two: a tiny group of the ultra rich and an ocean of people struggling to survive.
And instead of helping, nations are busy fighting each other over increasingly scarce resources, over technology, and over influence. News about armed conflicts across the world has become daily consumption that no longer surprises anyone.
"I don't believe in God," Leonard muttered, "but sometimes I wish God were real. So He could see the kind of hell those bastards have created. The ones who created the internet, AI, robots. I hope they all burn in hell. If hell exists."
Leonard is lucky. At least that is what he always tells himself.
His family was not wealthy, but they were financially savvy. They bought a house in what used to be considered the outskirts, but is now the city center.
They also invested in startup stocks that were unknown at the time. One of them is now one of the largest AI giants in the world. Without ever working a single day, the dividends from that inherited stock are enough to keep Leonard afloat. Sometimes he sells small portions when he needs extra money.
But Leonard knows those stocks are not income. They are only an emergency cushion. If they run out, he will fall without support. So he lives simply. Very simply.
Meanwhile, Leonard's daily work consists of criticizing and insulting the government on online forums. Stirring up debates with netizens who agree and disagree. Sometimes he writes long articles on his personal blog read by only dozens of people. Sometimes he just spreads cynical comments on social media. That is all. The rest of his time is spent playing games or daydreaming.
Often, Leonard imagines living in the Stone Age. Humans hunting and gathering, living in caves, warming themselves by campfires. The air still clean, no global warming pushing outside temperatures to forty degrees. Forests still dense and animals still roaming freely.
"That sounds better than living in this era," he whispers to himself.
He sighs. Two years. Nearly two years. When will this end?
BEEP.
A notification.
Leonard turns to the screen. An email. From OmniCorp Industrial. He remembers applying there last week for a field technician position maintaining mining robots.
He clicks the email without hope. It must be the usual. Thank you, but...
His eyes read. Stop. Read again.
"Dear Leonard Harrington, We are pleased to inform you that you have passed the administrative screening and online test for the position of Field Technician at OmniCorp Industrial. You are scheduled to attend orientation and placement on February 22, 2056 at 08:00 at our headquarters, OmniCorp Tower, 12th Floor... "
Leonard stops reading.
He cannot believe it.
Accepted?
He got the job?
For several seconds, Leonard just sits there, frozen, staring at the screen without truly seeing it. It feels like a dream. Or a system error that will soon be corrected with a second email apologizing for a technical mistake.
But no second email comes.
Instead, Leonard jumps up from his chair and screams.
"HUAAAAAAAA I GOT ACCEPTED!!!"
His shout echoes throughout the house. Lulu, who was sleeping soundly, nearly jumps out of her skin. The dog leaps off the bed, almost falls, then stares at her owner who is jumping around in front of the computer like a madman.
"Lulu! LULU!" Leonard turns and hugs the dog tightly. Lulu struggles for a moment, then gives in. She is used to her owner being a bit odd sometimes. But this time is different. He is crying. Laughing while crying.
"Lulu, I got the job! Do you know what that means?" Leonard releases her and holds both sides of the dog's face, staring into her round, innocent eyes.
Lulu barks once.
Woof!
"That's right!" Leonard laughs. "We can eat three times a day! For real, three times! Not just once with leftovers from yesterday!"
His laughter fills the room.
Lulu wags her tail enthusiastically, sharing his excitement even if she does not fully understand. This dog. The only being who has always been there for him. She is the last gift from his parents before they passed away.
"Okay, okay, we have to celebrate," Leonard finally says as he lets go and stands up.
He reaches into his pocket and counts the cash he has. Not much, but enough to buy good food at the convenience store. Instant curry noodles, and maybe sausages for Lulu.
"Come on, Lu. Let's go for a walk."
At the word walk, Lulu immediately becomes excited. Her tail swings rapidly like a propeller. She jumps in place, barking happily.
He puts her collar on, grabs his worn hoodie jacket, and makes sure the door is locked before leaving. Dusk is falling. The sky is a dirty orange covered by pollution. Streetlights begin to turn on, but half of them are dead from lack of maintenance.
Along the way, Leonard sees the same sight every day: homeless people sitting in rows under the overpass, on the steps of closed shops, at bus stops that buses rarely pass anymore. Some lie weak, their bodies skeletal. Some sit with empty stares. Some beg with hoarse voices, but most no longer have the energy.
Leonard tightens his hoodie, lowers his head, and quickens his steps. His hand slips into his jacket pocket, feeling the taser he always carries.
In this insane era, you never know. There are crazy people everywhere. Crime has become part of daily life. News about robbery, murder, kidnapping no longer shocks anyone.
Lulu walks calmly beside him, occasionally sniffing the side of the road. She does not bark at the homeless.
"Stay close to me, Lu," he whispers. The dog, as if understanding, moves closer.
They walk past a group of homeless men sitting in a circle under a makeshift tarp tent. Some of them stare at Lulu with strange looks.
Leonard walks faster.
Finally, the convenience store comes into view. A small building with half dead neon lights, surrounded by rusted iron fences.
The owner has put up a large sign: "HOMELESS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. 24 HOUR CCTV. VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED."
"Here, Lu, wait outside for a bit," Leonard says, pointing beside the door near an bike rack. "I'll go in for a moment and buy food. Don't go anywhere."
Lulu sits obediently. Leonard pats her head once, then enters the store.
Inside, the air is cold from a noisy old air conditioner. Leonard takes a basket and walks between the shelves. The prices make him slightly shocked, higher again since last week. But today, he does not want to think about it. Today is special.
He is choosing pasta sauce when he hears something from outside.
A dog barking.
Leonard turns toward the glass door of the convenience store. From behind the shelf, he can see outside.
In front of the door, four homeless men are crowding around something.
They are kicking. They are pulling.
Lulu.
One of them kicks Lulu in the stomach. She yelps in pain but still tries to fight back, barking loudly. Another grabs her collar, trying to drag her away.
Seeing that, Leonard's blood instantly boils.