2026-01-27 19:38:36The lingering static from the "system penalty" still prickled Mark Miller’s nerve endings as he landed on the scorched asphalt of Residential Sector 4-B. Smoke curled from his charred shoulders, but Mark only grunted, rolling his neck with a sickening crack. Thanks to the mysterious "hacker" from The Underground, the lightning meant to incinerate him had been diverted to recharge the Budget-Cutting Chainsaw in his grip.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: HELPDESK OPERATIONAL]
[Status: Reboot Complete.]
[Message: "Operator Miller, baiting lightning is a severe violation of Workplace Safety SOPs. This has been noted in your behavioral conduct report. Now, please resume asset clearing."]
"A conduct report? Am I back in high school now?" Mark spat, his blood mingled with soot. "I nearly died, and you’re worried about SOPs? Where’s your corporate empathy, huh?"
[Helpdesk System: "Empathy has no exchange value on the galactic stock market, Mark. Efficiency, however, is at a premium. Before you lies a cluster of ‘Failed Employees.’ Execute them, and do not forget: Smile, Greet, Assist... then Annihilate."]
Before Mark, a group of what were once civilians had transformed into mounds of flesh with telephone cords protruding from their mouths. They crawled through tattered laundry lines, emitting a chorus of static: "Sorry... line... busy..."
Mark yanked the starter on his chainsaw. The engine’s roar sounded like a choir of people screaming in frustration after being put on hold for hours.
"Fine. let's settle this transaction," Mark hissed.
He lunged. The first monster, a creature shaped like a photocopier with human legs, tried to spray scalding ink at him. Mark rolled, feeling the heat of the ink pass inches above his head, before swinging his saw in a brutal upward arc.
CRAAAK!
Flesh and hardened plastic split perfectly. Black fluid sprayed across Mark’s face.
[Helpdesk System: "Target Eliminated. Closing Procedure: Please request a satisfaction rating."]
Mark exhaled a long breath, staring at the twitching remains of the monster. "Thank you for choosing our termination services. Please provide a five-star rating for my speed of execution."
[System processing... Rating received: 1 Star. Comment: ‘Operator was too sarcastic. I felt disrespected as a former employee.’]
"What?! He’s dead! How can he even leave a comment?!" Mark screamed at the sky.
[Helpdesk System: "Our system retains a customer's final memory trace for 30 seconds for survey purposes. 1-Star Penalty: Static Electric Shock."]
BZZZZZT!
The ground beneath Mark’s feet suddenly surged with electricity. Mark jerked like a convulsing ballet dancer, cursing with every foul word in his vocabulary. "You bureaucratic piece of trash! I do the dirty work, and you let the corpses punish me?!"
[Helpdesk System: "Customer satisfaction is our priority. To avoid penalties, please utilize the ‘Black Market: Hospitality Script’ feature. Only 150 Points."]
"Keep your script to yourself!" Mark saw three more monsters approaching. This time, they were Stalker Dispatchers—creatures with ten ears wielding telephone receivers as clubs.
Mark didn't charge blindly. He racked his brain. He knew this system was rigidly bound by its own regulations. "Hey, System! If I kill them all in one combo, does it count as ‘Express Service’?"
[Helpdesk System: "Intriguing. Under Article 12, Section 4 of Operational Efficiency, mass-elimination in a single action qualifies as ‘Priority Service.’ Bonus: Satisfaction Survey Waiver."]
"Now you're talking business," Mark grinned darkly.
He allowed the three monsters to surround him. David and Sarah watched from a distance, their hearts hammering. Mark waited until the creatures leaped simultaneously. At the last possible second, Mark slammed his chainsaw into a leaking gas pipe on the residential wall while spinning his body 360 degrees.
BOOM!
A blast of blue flame consumed the three monsters instantly. Mark emerged from the blaze with his jacket half-incinerated, but his face was a mask of grim satisfaction.
[Helpdesk System: "Priority Service Detected. Automatic Rating: 5 Stars. Bonus: 20 Loyalty Points and a 10% Black Market Discount Voucher."]
"A voucher? You’re giving me a shopping voucher in the middle of the apocalypse?" Mark laughed hysterically. "You truly are the stingiest company in existence."
Mark walked through the rubble toward a ruined grocery store. There, a vending machine suddenly flickered to life with an eerie neon-purple glow. This was not part of the Helpdesk system. This was the promised access to The Underground.
[WELCOME TO THE BLACK MARKET: THE UNDERGROUND]
[Slogan: "Because the Official System is too cheap for you."]
Mark pressed a button on the machine. The screen displayed absurd yet lethal items:
* Bottomless Black Coffee (Effect: Removes drowsiness and humanity for 2 hours) – 100 Points.
* Alternative Narrator Voice (Effect: Changes the Helpdesk System’s voice to a sultry female tone) – 500 Points.
* ‘Contract Termination’ Hammer (Effect: Shatters the armor of Elite monsters) – 800 Points.
"A sultry female voice? Who’s stupid enough to buy that?" Mark muttered, though secretly he considered it given how grating the current system voice was. "I’ll take the Contract Termination Hammer. Put it on my tab."
[Helpdesk System: "Warning! Black Market transaction detected. This purchase does not earn reward points, and the corporate warranty is void."]
"To hell with your warranty!" Mark slammed the machine until it dispensed a massive sledgehammer with a large ‘0’ engraved on its head.
As Mark gripped the hammer, he felt his strength returning. But in that same moment, David ran toward him, his face pale with panic. "Mark! Sarah... she’s been taken!"
Mark turned sharply. "Taken by who? I cleared this zone!"
"Not monsters," David gasped, pointing toward an apartment building at the end of the street. "Men in white uniforms. They said they were from the ‘Billing Department.’ They took Sarah because your points are too far in the negative!"
Mark went silent. His eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Billing Department? They dare seize my assets?"
[Helpdesk System: "We apologize, Operator Miller. According to the Terms and Conditions, if your point debt exceeds the limit, we reserve the right to seize collateral. Sarah is deemed ‘Category-B Collateral’."]
"She’s not an object, you scrap-metal bot!" Mark slammed his hammer into the asphalt, cracking it a meter deep. "Where did they take her?"
[Helpdesk System: "To the 50th Floor: Billing Headquarters. Warning: Entering that area without an invitation is considered a ‘Severe Disciplinary Breach.’ Penalty: Salary Deduction (Life)."]
"Good," Mark smirked—an expression so terrifying that David recoiled in fear. "I was planning an unannounced visit anyway. Tell them Mark Miller is coming for a ‘Counter-Audit’."
Mark looked at his new hammer, then toward the sky, which was shifting into a cold, corporate hue. He knew he was walking into a trap, but the hunger for vengeance against this bureaucracy was far greater than the pain in his body.
"David, take my saw," Mark commanded. "We’re going up. And this time, I’m not asking for a five-star rating."
"Then what are you going to do?" David asked, trembling.
Mark stepped forward, shouldering his giant hammer. "I’m going to give them... a one-star review that will tear this entire system apart."
Will Mark Miller succeed in reclaiming Sarah from the Billing Department, or is he about to be swallowed whole by an even more labyrinthine bureaucracy of death?
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CHAPTER 112: THE PHOENIX PROJECT REVEALED
The central lift rocketed upwards at a speed that made the stomach churn, but Mark Miller paid no heed to the physical sensation. His eyes were fixed on the screen of his decryption device, now glowing brightly with the access he had just forced open using the Phoenix code. The light from the display reflected in Mark’s pupils, revealing rows of data that were finally beginning to coalesce into coherent information. Beside him, David was still panting, his trembling fingers attempting to stabilise the wireless connection so their access path wouldn't be severed by ARCH’s central defence systems, which were undoubtedly tracking them with aggression now.Sarah stood in the corner of the lift, her binary rifle aimed at the ceiling, her eyes alert to every floor number flashing on the indicator panel. This lift wasn't stopping at administrative levels or Management’s residential sectors. It was heading to coordinates that technically didn't exist in the Megastructure’s public blueprints:
CHAPTER 111: THE CORE PROCESSOR CODE
The air inside the Sector 14 transit room felt paper-thin and reeked of a sharp, metallic tang—the lingering scent of scorched circuits from the research lab they’d left behind. Mark Miller leaned against a corridor wall that vibrated with a low, rhythmic tremor, trying to steady his ragged breathing. Under the erratic flicker of neon lights, Mark’s shadow stretched and fractured against the floor, a mirror to his own shattered state of mind following the revelation of Alistair Thorne’s true identity. He could feel the pulse of the Illegal Ware strapped to his wrist; its heat had yet to subside, as if the forbidden device were ravenous for more data to consume.Before him, David was kneeling in front of a secondary data distribution panel tucked away behind a structural pillar. Sweat poured down the young man's temples, soaking a shirt collar already grimed with industrial dust. Sarah stood a few paces ahead, her back to Mark and David, her binary rifle held with steady precision towa
CHAPTER 110: THE ARCHITECT OF BARBARISM
Mark Miller’s footsteps echoed heavily across the cold metal floor of Sector 14, leaving behind the lingering remnants of data bursts from the previous storage vault. The scent of burnt ozone and the suffocating heat radiating from the server engines behind the walls felt like a physical weight. Red emergency lights pulsed rhythmically along the corridor, casting a ghastly hue over Mark’s face and sharpening the lines of exhaustion and stony fury etched there. Behind him, David monitored his digital tablet with trembling fingers, while Sarah maintained the rearguard, her binary rifle leveled and ready to spit pure energy into the encroaching darkness.They had just managed to breach the black particle curtain that barred the way to the primary research laboratory. Mark came to a halt before a terminal desk unlike any he had ever encountered. It was crafted from obsidian glass that reflected their shadows with an eerie clarity, as if the surface itself were scanning their biological es
CHAPTER 109: DESPERATE MEASURES
The air inside the R&D core database felt suffocatingly heavy, as if gravity here exerted twice the force of the previous sectors. A sharp scent of ozone mingled with the stifling heat radiating from thousands of crystal data pillars that loomed toward the darkened ceiling. Mark Miller stepped forward, his legs still feeling a trace of weakness after weathering the cognitive onslaught of the Logic Traps. Behind him, David kept a frantic eye on his scanner, while Sarah took up a position at the mouth of a narrow corridor, her index finger never straying from the trigger of her binary rifle.They now stood before the final gate, a digital architectural anomaly known as the Causality Firewall. Unlike steel doors or light partitions, the barrier ahead was a curtain of slow-swirling black particles, emitting static waves that made Mark’s skin crawl. Every time a particle collided with the air, a faint hiss echoed—a sound that reminded Mark of the thousands of agonized whispers he had heard
CHAPTER 108: THE LOGIC TRAP
The pulsing red emergency lights along the R&D corridor created a sickening illusion that the metallic walls of Sector 14 were breathing, contracting and expanding in sync with Mark Miller’s erratic heartbeat. Mark came to a halt before a massive gate. It wasn't forged from steel, but rather from a lattice of liquid crystal screens displaying thousands of raw data streams flowing vertically. This was the entrance to the R&D core database—the final bastion holding the secrets of what truly happened to test subjects like the figure he had seen in the earlier footage.David attempted to link his device to the gate’s interface, but a static shock wave instantly repelled the panel, sending the young man tumbling backward. The screens in front of them abruptly turned a blinding, clinical white, and a layered mechanical voice—sounding as if it were composed of thousands of overlaid human voices—echoed through the stale air."Access denied. Cognitive Defense Protocol engaged. Prove your logic
CHAPTER 107: SHREDDED MEMORIES
The Sector 14 corridor felt increasingly claustrophobic, its metallic walls encased in a web of pulsing fiber optics that carried raw data like lifeblood through the veins of a titan. The sharp tang of scorched ozone and the stifling heat radiating from the server banks behind the bulkheads made the air thick and heavy. Mark Miller moved forward, still reeling from the shock of the previous archive room. His mind was trapped in a loop, haunted by the echo of a child’s voice calling out for "Father" within the system—a ghost in the machine that played over and over like a corrupted tape.Behind him, David and Sarah remained on high alert. David wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, his eyes fixed on a scanner showing the Management’s defense systems growing increasingly aggressive. Sarah held her weapon at the ready, though her gaze frequently drifted toward Mark with a look of profound concern. She could tell their leader was standing on the precipice of an emotional breakdown."Ma
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