Dead End: Hell of Customer Service

CHAPTER 12: BLOODY MERGER AND THE UNION OF THE DAMNED

The world was like a piece of paper being crumpled by a giant hand. The thunderous roar of concrete grinding against other realities created a deafening symphony of destruction. The Debt Collection Headquarters, which had just been Mark’s battlefield, was now merely a tiny cell in a growing, gargantuan organism. Through the cracked windows, Mark saw skyscrapers from various corners of the globe—some appearing to be from a flickering neon future, others like medieval castles infected by digital circuitry—colliding and merging into one another.

[MERGER PROCESS: 88% COMPLETE]

[NOTICE: REGIONAL RESTRUCTURING IN PROGRESS]

[Executive Voice: "Miller, congratulations. You are no longer a big fish in a small pond. Welcome to the Corporate Ocean. 10,000 Operators from the Asia-Pacific, Europe, and Near-Galaxy sectors have been merged into a single server: 'THE GLOBAL OFFICE'."]

"Global Office?" Mark spat, wiping blood from his lip. He stood atop the ruins of the 50th floor, which was now forcibly connected to a Zen-style indoor garden from another sector. "So now I have ten thousand competitors gunning for my head?"

[Executive Voice: "Precisely. Based on the 'Cut-Throat Competition' policy, only 1% of Operators will be promoted to the Executive level. The rest? They will be deemed as operating costs to be slashed."]

"Mark... look over there!" Sarah pointed towards a newly formed pedestrian bridge connecting their hangar to a giant clock tower.

There, three figures stood. They wore Operator uniforms far sleeker than Mark’s—black robes with gold accents and tactical helmets projecting statistical data onto their visors. In their hands were weapons that looked like plasma rifles but were shaped like giant hole-punchers.

"Target detected," one of them spoke through a modulator. "Sector 4-B Operator. Status: Bankrupt. Liquidation Value: Low. But the experience points are decent for a warm-up target."

Mark narrowed his eyes. The Empathy Removal Fluid was still coursing through his nervous system, preventing him from feeling his racing heart. He saw them only as a logistical hurdle. "David, take Sarah and hide behind that broken shredder. Don't come out until I say 'Done'."

"But Mark, they have firearms!" David protested, yet he quickly pulled Sarah away upon seeing Mark’s vacant stare.

"Those aren't firearms," Mark muttered, lifting his 'Contract Termination' hammer. "Those are just sanctioning tools. And I hate sanctions."

The three foreign Operators launched a simultaneous attack. Blue beams streaked from their weapons, pulverising the concrete pillars around Mark. Mark moved, but his body—recently and instantly repaired by the system—felt stiff. His newly mended bones let out a creaking sound every time he rolled.

[System: "Warning! Physical integrity below 40%. Suggested action: Initiate 'Peaceful Negotiation' or 'Asset Surrender'."]

"Shut up, you sycophant!" Mark cursed at his system.

He swung his hammer and slammed the head of it into the floor of the newly merged Zen garden.

BOOM!

The resulting shockwave sent sand and decorative stones flying towards his opponents. While they were distracted by the dust, Mark lunged. He appeared in front of the first Operator, who looked shocked by Mark's brutal speed.

"Rating, you bastard!" Mark roared. He slammed his hammer right into the Operator’s golden helmet.

CRACK!

The helmet shattered, revealing a young man’s face covered in barcode tattoos. The Operator was sent flying into a flickering digital wall.

[System: "Opposing Operator critically injured. Requesting Satisfaction Rating..."]

[Rating: 1 Star (Comment: 'Unsporting! Using melee weapons in the merger era?!')]

ZAPPPP!

A disciplinary bolt of lightning struck Mark’s shoulder. Mark groaned, but he used the momentum of the electric shock to accelerate his spin, striking the second Operator in the solar plexus.

BAM!

"Two," Mark hissed.

The third Operator, a woman with mechanical eyes, began to panic. She retreated while peppering Mark with plasma fire. "How can you still move?! The system lightning should have paralysed you!"

"I’m used to being struck by lightning by my own system every day!" Mark laughed crazily, a sound that rang hollow and devoid of emotion. "Compared to my bureaucratic boss, your shots are just a pinch from an intern admin!"

Mark threw his hammer. It spun through the air, slicing through the plasma fire and striking the woman’s chest, hurls her out of the building and into the folding dimensional abyss.

[Three Operators Eliminated. Points Gained: +300.]

[Status: You have gained the attention of 'The Regional Director'.]

Mark panted heavily. Black blood began to seep from his ears—a side effect of prolonged use of the empathy removal fluid. He retrieved his hammer, which was starting to crack in several places.

Suddenly, the sound of clapping echoed from the darkness of the Zen garden. Someone stepped out. He did not wear a fancy Operator uniform, but rather an ordinary office suit that was torn to shreds, much like Mark’s when he first started this hell. In his hand, he held a long steel ruler stained with blue blood.

"Incredible," the man said. His face was friendly, yet his eyes radiated the same madness as Mark’s. "You killed a team from Sector 1-A all by yourself. And they were the company's golden boys."

"Who are you?" Mark asked, not lowering his guard.

"My name is Leon. I am the Chairman of the 'Union of the Damned'—the Accursed Labour Union," the man introduced himself with a slight, polite bow. "We are a faction of Operators who realise that we are all just slaves being pitted against one another. This merger isn't to find a new CEO, Mark. It is a process of 'Mass Redundancy'."

Mark narrowed his eyes. "A Labour Union? You want me to join and pay dues?"

Leon laughed. "No. I want to offer an alliance. You have brutal strength; I have information regarding the legal loopholes of this system. Up there, at the peak of the 'Global Office', the Board of Directors is preparing a 'Final Audit'. If we do not unite, we will all be shredded without a trace."

[Executive Voice: "Warning! Interaction with rebel groups will result in unilateral contract termination! Miller, do not listen to him!"]

Mark looked at Leon, then up at the ceiling now filled with thousands of monitor screens watching his every move. He then saw Sarah and David cowering in fear.

"System," Mark said quietly.

[Executive Voice: "Yes, Miller?"]

"Delete all notifications regarding loyalty. I’m finished with this company."

[System: "ERROR! This action is deemed an act of treason..."]

Mark slammed his hammer into the camera drone that had been watching him, smashing it into metal scraps. He then turned back to Leon.

"I don't like joining unions," Mark said coldly. "But I do very much like crushing central management. What’s your plan?"

Leon smiled broadly, revealing his sharp teeth. "The plan is simple. We are going on a 'Mass Strike'. And in this world, a Strike means killing anyone who tries to tell us to work."

Suddenly, from the open sky, dozens of massive shipping containers descended, marked with "URGENT DELIVERY" logos. The containers burst open, releasing thousands of 'The Enforcer' type monsters—the system’s riot police, equipped with electric shields and energy batons.

"It seems the HR department has sent the dismissal team," Leon prepared himself with his steel ruler.

Mark Miller gripped his hammer with both hands, feeling his dark aura overflow until it shrouded his entire body. The effect of the empathy removal fluid reached its peak. He no longer saw himself as a human, or an operator. He was an anomaly.

"Good," Mark hissed. "I’ve been meaning to ask them for a very large severance package."

In the midst of the insane merging of worlds, Mark Miller had just declared war against his creators. And this time, no five-star rating could save any of them.

Will the alliance between Mark and Leon be enough to shake the foundations of the Global Office, or is Leon just another manipulator exploiting Mark’s strength?