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Interlude 8
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 12:42:05 +0000 UTCINTERLUDE (VIII)
Corporate Machine Operating Precisely As Intended
Rook Ba’shra looked out over the bustling metropolis from the comfort of his lavish penthouse apartment. Swirling a glass of two thousand year old vintage, he peered over the rim at the hustle and bustle happening far below—floor to ceiling windows acting like portals of sorts.
Allowing a glimpse onto a world most low tier guttersnipes would never even believe existed. Undoubtedly chalking any mention of it up to mere myth, folklore, or legend. A city in the sky. Or at least, one high above the perpetual smog of the lower tiers. Elysium. The corporate paradise that only caters to the unequivocal winners of society. The resourceful, well connected, and the extremely,extremely wealthy.
With its blooming rooftop gardens, slick flying yachts, and building sized holo-ads, advertising all manner of corporate products in the booming feminine voice of their perky brand ambassador.
“HAVING A ROUGH DAY?
“STRUGGLING TO MEET YOUR QUOTA? WELL, TRY OUR HAPPY BRAIN SUPPLEMENT TM TODAY! SHOW YOUR BOSS JUST HOW INTEGRAL YOU REALLY ARE TO THE TEAM!
“‘RATED FIVE STARS BY THE DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND SAFETY COMMISSION!’
“WILL TURN THAT FROWN UPSIDE DOWN OR YOUR MONEY BACK GUARANTEED! AVAILABLE NOW ONLY FOR A LIMITED TIME! SAVE UP TO 60% OFF YOUR FIRST PURCHASE WHEN YOU USE THE CODE “HAPPY B DAY” UPON MAKING YOUR ORDER, THATS H-A-P-P-Y…!”
Gleaming glass buildings of swooping design, so tall, their bottom stories were completely obscured by fog. A creeping wall of smog which congested the lower levels. A cloud layer upon which those of true worth and renown sought to rise well into the social stratosphere.
A message alert pinged Rook Ba’shra’s interface, nearly making him spill his wine in surprise. It blinked the bright red of a high priority message. Frowning, the high profile Ra’ak Neerian opened it up and read through the contents.
HIGH PRIORITY ALERT: SYS-399781 – ANOMALY DETECTED
A critical anomaly has been detected. Immediate action is required. Preliminary funds have been issued to aid in the expedient resolution of this matter.
(This is an automated message.)
Then Rook Ba’shra scrolled down and saw the amount being issued to help deal with this anomaly. His eyes bulged. Only growing wider and wider with every successive zero he saw. He stopped counting after thirty.
Rook Ba’shra gulped. Glanced around warily, as if worried he might be spied upon in his very own apartments. Then, without an ounce of shame or hesitation, he transferred more than half of the funds directly to his personal accounts, checked the high priority alert as cleared, and sent the rest down the corporate ladder to one of his subordinates.
Surely that much should still be more than enough to cover the swatting of a pest from the newly integrated worlds. In the meantime, there were a few sky yachts Rook Ba’shra’d had his eye on for quite some time. He supposed now was as good a time as any to make a few calls.
+++
Sha’ah Mens’rah’ati raised the sliced cucumber from her left eye, perusing the high priority message with a bored expression. Until, that is, her eyes alighted on the mention of “preliminary funds.” At which point she ordered her masseuse to ease up a bit on the deep tissue massage. Sha’ah quickly skimmed over the offered amount. Then read it again, far more slowly, sure she’d misplaced a decimal there somewhere, amidst all those zeros.
When it finally sank in just how massive of a windfall she’d just received, Sha’ah Mens’rah’ati transferred the large majority of the balance to her personal accounts, sent the message down the chain for one of her subordinates to deal with, then booked her favorite masseuse for the rest of the day—throwing in a not inconsiderable tip to sweeten the deal. Merely a sign of her gratitude for all the good work he did.
She was gratified to note how the fine specimen of a male seemed just as ecstatic as she was at this unexpected bonus.
+++
Sha’an Tel’shae stared slack jawed at the simply ludicrous sum of credits that’d fallen in his lap. The high priority message interrupting his fifteen minute lunch break, his only real break for the whole entire day. Although, if he’d been about to complain only moments before, now he could only thank the creator for this unexpected boon.
The thick noodle dangling from his lower jaw slipped free to splatter grease all across the tiny desk of his five by five cubicle. Sha’an jerked, knowing he’d be admonished harshly for such a slip up, before he realized that he’d never have to worry about his stuck up manager ever again.
He was rich!
Sha’an Tel’shae transferred a significant amount of the total to his personal accounts, then, after a seconds hesitation, sent the high priority message down the chain.
+++
This pattern of taking a cut, then shirking all responsibilities, continued in this manner for quite some time. Until, at long last, that same extremely important high priority message—if with a significantly diminished cash of preliminary funds—appeared before the very last person it had been intended for.
An esteemed and loyal member of the janitorial staff.
Catching him in the middle of making his rounds—scrubbing down one of the urinals in the men’s bathroom in fact—and just about scaring the living daylights out of him.
Only once he’d gotten his racing heart to slow back down to a reasonable pace, did he actually manage to take in the message in question. The janitor frowned. Of course he was no stranger to corporate cutting corners, but this alert seemed to be of the highest priority. And yet the funds on offer weren’t anything exceptional. Oh, sure, it amounted to a good decades worth of yearly wages for someone like him—leaving him severely tempted to dip his hand into the pot.
And yet, if he was reading things correctly, this anomaly was no joke. Would this really be enough? The janitor scratched his scaly head.
“Well, I could always ask Scrap and his crew to pitch in I s’pose. Bastard bloody owes me big time, after all.”
He thought about it for a second more, accidentally using the hand holding the scrub brush to massage his lower jaw.
“Gah!”
Throwing the brush away and wiping at his mouth with a sleeve, that moment right there was what finally decided it for him.
“One job for ten years annual wage split halfways, that’s…?” he tried to do the numbers in his head, gave up, and finally settled on the only answer that really mattered. “That’s a bloody crap ton of money, that is.”
Already swimming in a pool full’a cash in his mind, the janitor trotted over, picked up the toilet brush, and set back to work scrubbing the urinals clean. Swimming in it though he might soon be, he still intended to keep his day job, after all.
Comments
Touch
Agree with you on this, good plot armour device to allow MC to get named monster, but this is just playing off “all bosses are incompetent and do not deserve it, only janitor do a good job”. How a corporation, system, or that particular company didn’t fail is a wonder
Stephen Weinberg
Uh... I love the grift here as everyone punts it down the chain, but you may have gone a bit too far. I would expect it to land at someone at least nominally responsible for such things, not a janitor. Hell, maybe even an intern who has no idea what they are doing.
CherMi
Is that an Elite Named janitor I see on the horizon?
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! Hmm Or not... I guess its easier to take the money than spawn some strengthened Monster in the tutorial for a bunch of corrupt corpoassholes...
