Dead End: Hell of Customer Service

Chapter 2 - The Pain Interest Billing

Consciousness returned to Mark Miller’s head not like a gentle morning wake-up call, but like being struck head-on by a semi-truck, which then decided to reverse and run him over once more.

Mark choked. His lungs, which had been forced to operate far beyond their anatomical capacity, now felt shriveled, parched, and filled with the jagged dust of debris. He tried to shift his shoulder, but a searing spike of agony immediately shot from the nerve endings in his spine to his brain, triggering a torturous throb that sent his world spinning in a vortex of black and gray.

"Argh... dammit... s-system?" Mark groaned. His voice was barely audible—a hoarse whisper swallowed by the silence of the ruined office. His tongue felt thick, tasting of copper from the blood congealed between his teeth.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: CUSTOMER SERVICE]

[Status: Rest Period Expired (00:00)]

[Warning: Second Stage 'Pain Interest' Billing is being processed automatically...]

"Wait, wait a second!" Mark tried to shout, but his neck muscles were as stiff as dried cement. "You said... five minutes... I only... closed my eyes for a second!"

[System: "Time is a premium commodity in this new world, Mark Miller. In those five minutes, three new species have already mutated on the floors below. We offer no delinquency grace periods for power-borrowers. You utilized 'Illegal Adrenaline' with a trash-tier body. Now, it is time for your physical vessel to pay compensation for the conscious destruction of your molecular structure."]

Suddenly, Mark felt a sensation that transcended the word "pain." It felt as though every muscle fiber in the arm he had used to slay the Shredder was being plucked out, one by one, with glowing-hot pincers. His body jerked across the cold concrete floor. His legs kicked uncontrollably—a harrowing seizure as his fractured leg bones ground against each other inside the flesh, producing a dull crunch he could feel directly in his central nervous system.

"You... bastard! Stop!" Mark cursed, forced tears pricking the corners of his bloodshot eyes. He clawed at the floor until his fingernails cracked, leaving trails of crimson across the tiles. "This... this isn't... interest... this is pure torture! I’ll report you to... argh!"

[System: "Please contact the grievance department in the Seventh Dimension if you survive this heart attack. Please remain calm during the adjustment process. If you lose consciousness now, your nervous system will undergo a permanent 'shutdown.' Let us converse to keep you conscious. Were you satisfied with the previous combat performance?"]

Mark let out a dry laugh, a sound that was more of a wheeze than a chuckle. "Satisfied? Are you joking? I feel like... acid is being poured... through my veins. Every heartbeat... feels like a hammer blow. You call this... customer service?!"

[System: "Customer satisfaction is our priority—after corporate profit, naturally. You are still breathing and have not become monster excrement. That is a 100% success rate according to our metrics. Now, would you like to hear the breakdown of your debt?"]

"Keep your damn numbers!" Mark forced himself into a sitting position, a simple movement that took nearly two minutes because every inch of his body refused to cooperate.

His left arm, whose fingers he had broken as an energy sacrifice, was now swollen to twice its normal size. The skin had turned a deep, bruised purple, glistening with the edema fluid pooling beneath the tissue. Every time he drew a deep breath, his broken ribs seemed to puncture his lungs, creating the sensation of drowning on dry land.

"I need... medicine," Mark said, dragging his body forward with his elbows, away from the monster's carcass which had begun to leak a sulfurous black ichor. "Give me... a healing potion, bandages, anything... before I die of an infection."

[System: "Available: 'Basic Medical Bandage.' Effect: Stops external bleeding by 20%. Price: 50 Loyalty Points. Your current balance: -450 Points (Arrears)."]

"Debt? I just slaughtered that killing machine!" Mark stopped crawling, leaning against a steel filing cabinet that was dented from the impact. He stared at the holographic screen with swollen eyes.

[System: "Transaction Analysis: Killing 'The Shredder' granted 50 base points. However, the activation of unsecured 'Illegal Adrenaline' incurred a 300-point administrative f*e, plus 200 points in instant interest because you were near death. Thus, technically, you worked for free today. In fact, you owe us 450 points in overtime."]

"The world has ended, civilization is gone, and I’m still trapped in a corporate scheme more ruthless than my country’s health insurance," Mark muttered cynically. He tried to straighten his right leg, but the heat searing through his knee made him nearly gag. "Fine, if there’s no free medicine... at least tell me... where are the other survivors? I can't... get out of this building alone with a broken body like this."

[System: "Searching for biometric data in the vicinity... Signals found. Three of your coworkers are in the pantry, 15 meters ahead. However, a small note: They are currently debating whether to abandon you or take your wallet and designer watch before they flee via the emergency stairs."]

Mark went silent. A bitter, hateful smirk crept across his blood-streaked face. "Heh... of course. That's them. This watch... is actually a knock-off I bought at a flea market. Let them take it; I hope it brings them nothing but bad luck."

Mark forced all his remaining strength into his right hand. He grabbed the iron support beam he had used earlier. His palm blistered upon contact with the hot metal, but this fresh pain helped him focus, overriding the duller, older aches.

"System," Mark called out, panting, his steps dragging heavily across the shattered tiles. "If I actually die from this debt... what happens?"

[System: "Death does not erase debt, Mark. Your soul will be harvested as 'Server Fuel' for 1,000 years to process this apocalypse data. We are very efficient regarding post-mortem collections."]

"You really are the true monster," Mark hissed, cold sweat drenching his face.

Every step was hell. Step one, the ribs shifted. Step two, the knee let out a sickening click. Step three, his vision darkened. He pressed on, using his hatred for the system and his coworkers as fuel.

He reached the cracked glass door of the pantry. Inside, through the haze of dust, he saw three people: Sarah from accounting, David the corporate lawyer, and an intern whose name he had forgotten. They were frantically stuffing mineral water bottles into their bags.

Mark gripped the door handle. His hand trembled so violently it produced a metallic rattling sound. The pain from the 'Second Stage Interest' reached its peak, sending electrical shocks into his bone marrow.

"Hey..." Mark tried to call out, but all that emerged was a thick cough of blood that stained the glass door.

The door opened slowly from the inside. David stared at Mark with wide eyes. A flicker of guilt vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a look of disgust at the sight of Mark’s mangled form.

"Miller? You’re... you’re still breathing?" David asked, his voice tinged with a faint note of disappointment.

Mark locked eyes with the man, then glanced at the system hologram that only he could see. "Yeah... I'm still breathing, David. And I... have some bad news for your little robbery plan."

"What do you mean?" Sarah interrupted from behind, clutching her backpack tightly as if Mark might snatch it.

Mark grinned, revealing teeth stained red with blood. "This system... doesn't like people who run away from their obligations. I’ve already 'bought' an exit path with my own life. So now... you have two choices."

Mark coughed, leaning his nearly collapsing frame against the doorframe. "You can help me walk out of here and share that water with me... or I’ll use my last points to ensure the system marks you as the 'Primary Targets' for the next monster."