In the super-advanced magical civilization Doreia, not only famine but even hunger was eradicated. Diseases became nuisances. As for war, what of it? A subject for historians only. Human greed, however, remained.
"Only one more ********** will be produced in this set," the young man muttered as he stood still on the magical street which moved pedestrians effortlessly about the city. "And I preordered it. Me! I'm minutes away."
Can you imagine his excitement? His human excitement? We cannot today understand what he wanted, but only that he wanted it, and he communicated his desire to the store clerk, who said, "I'm sorry, sir. That item is reserved."
"Yes. By me."
"I'm very sorry, sir."
"But . . ." What can one say in such a situation? "When? Who reserved it and when? I ordered the ********** three weeks ago."
"Sir, what's done is done." The clerk's words were definitive, but his manner nervous.
The bell rang and another man walked in. It was the famous and influential ************, Mr. G. He addressed the clerk. "Is that thing I asked about yesterday in yet? It is? Great!"
He took his package and left. Throughout the interaction, he ignored the clerk's many blinks, his slightly open mouth, and his eyes that moved repeatedly toward the other customer before he yanked them away. The other customer, too, did not notice the clerk, or anything at all. He left without saying anything. That was the day the demon king who destroyed Doreia was born.
Finis
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