The Corporate Apocalypse: Jakarta's Survival Guide to Cosmic

Chapter 10: Interdimensional Labor Relations Dispute Hearing

The atmosphere in Aisle 666 instantly transformed into an intimidating courtroom. The dim hanging lights shifted into harsh, white neon, casting long shadows across the archive shelves. The Chief HR Officer—whose silver ID badge read 'Vanda'—stood tall, her high heels making a sharp click-click sound as she stepped forward.

"Listen, Mr. Rendy," Vanda’s voice sounded like ice sliding across glass. "We are a corporation that values efficiency. For the last several millennia, Planet Earth has shown an alarming decline in ROI (Return on Investment). You waste far too many resources on non-productive things like fighting wars over imaginary borders, watching cat videos, and... what is this? Breakdancing in front of our assets?"

"That is called creativity, Vanda!" Rendy shot back, holding Coach Udin’s book high. "In Chapter 20, Article 3 regarding 'Organic Employee Existence Rights', it clearly states: 'Any termination of existence must be preceded by Warning Letters 1 through 3, as well as coaching and counseling sessions to improve behavior'. You went straight to liquidation. This is a massive violation of the universal code of ethics!"

Vanda let out a long sigh—a sigh that managed to sound both professional and deadly. "Warnings were issued multiple times. The Great Flood? That was Warning 1. The meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs? That was a reptilian department downsizing. The previous plagues? Those were all performance reviews intended to help you improve. But instead, you were all too busy making TikToks. Consequently, the Board of Directors has decided to replace you with Model Z."

Alana pulled her bowstring, aiming her arrow directly at the silver brooch on Vanda’s chest. "Model Z? You mean those disgusting zombies? They cannot even think!"

"That is exactly the point, Ms. Alana," Vanda said with a faint smile that did not reach her scanner-cold eyes. "Model Z does not require a salary, does not need health insurance, does not take breaks, and most importantly... they do not have egos that cause them to question orders. They are the dream employees. Their only flaw is their rather poor taste in music, but we can fix that with a firmware update."

Rendy felt a cold sweat soak through his shirt.

He glanced at his guidebook. The page began to glow with a faint blue light, and new text materialized automatically: 'Logical arguments won't work on HR. Use a bureaucratic paradox. Demand severance in the form of "Infinite Years of Service" based on the procedural error found on page 404.'

"Hold on a second, Vanda!" Rendy shouted, his voice echoing through the endless maze of filing cabinets. "Speaking of procedures, you haven't performed an audit on 'Resigned Assets' yet. I have a resignation letter right here, stamped by Captain Harris over in the Kuningan branch. According to the universal labor laws written in this book, employees who resign voluntarily before a liquidation period cannot have their data forcibly deleted. We are entitled to a Golden Parachute!"

Vanda stopped in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed, flickering back and forth as if she were scanning an internal database in her head. "Voluntary resignation? Captain Harris didn't have the authority to issue that stamp. He's just an expired middle manager."

"But your system accepted it!" Rendy pointed at Gondrong's forehead. "Look at this! This 'APPROVED' stamp is synced directly to your central server. If you delete us now, you'll trigger a 404 Error in the universal financial reports because assets went missing without a legal liquidation process. Do you really want your year-end report bleeding red?"

At the mention of a 'Red Report,' Vanda's perfect face twitched ever so slightly. For a high-level executive, an administrative failure was a sin far greater than the extinction of a species.

"Auditors, verify their biometric status," Vanda commanded, her voice betraying a hint of well-hidden anxiety.

Two Auditors stepped forward, their blue lasers sweeping over Rendy, Alana, Gondrong, and Cross-Eyes. Their digital clipboards began emitting a shrill warning chime.

"Report: Biometric status 'UNAVAILABLE'. Legal status: 'PENDING SETTLEMENT'. If deletion proceeds, an inventory discrepancy of 4 organic soul units will occur," the Auditor's robotic voice sounded almost frantic.

"You're screwed, lady!" Cross-Eyes cheered, though his voice was still shaking. "I'm an illegal asset now! Go ahead, delete me—see if it doesn't corrupt your precious Excel spreadsheets!"

Vanda gripped her 'TERMINATED' stamp so hard her knuckles turned white. "Udin... that bastard really taught you how to hack our bureaucracy. Fine. You want severance? I'll give you one choice. You can stay alive as 'Freelancers' in this rebranded world of ours. But there's a catch: you have to prove that organic humans still have more 'Added Value' than Model Z within the next 24 hours."

"What kind of value are we talking about?" Alana asked suspiciously.

"You have to complete a task that a zombie can't," Vanda waved her hand, and a black folder flew from a top shelf into her grip. "There's a 'Bug' downtown. Something called the 'Building of Hope.' Our zombies freeze up whenever they get near it because the 'Optimism' radiation is too strong. It crashes their nihilism-based logic. Destroy that building, or I'll toss you into the 'Permanent Archive Box' without a single cent to your name."

Rendy went quiet. He looked at Alana, who also looked hesitant. 'Building of Hope'? That sounded like something they should be protecting, not tearing down.

"Rendy, don't listen to her," Alana whispered. "The Building of Hope might be the only place left that hasn't been infected by this corporate virus."

Rendy opened his book again. The page showed a glowing building in the middle of the darkness, with a footnote from Coach Udin: 'Tip #50: Sometimes, to save the company, you have to play the part of a corporate saboteur. Remember, HR can't see intent; they only see KPIs (Key Performance Indicators).'

Rendy flashed a sly grin. He turned back to Vanda. "Fine, we accept the challenge. But we're going to need some company perks. We need a vehicle, weapons better than this wooden bow, and... coffee. Lots of it. Humans can't work overtime without caffeine."

Vanda scoffed. "Equipment will be provided at the exit. Now get moving before I change my mind and reclassify you as 'Operating Costs to be Slashed'."

Vanda slammed her stamp onto a new contract. Suddenly, the floor beneath their feet dropped out, turning into a high-speed document slide that spiraled downward.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Gondrong screamed the loudest as they shot through the dark bureaucratic pipes.

They tumbled out of a trash chute behind an old storefront, back in the open world. But the world had shifted again. An armored SUV was parked in front of them with an 'HRD RECON' logo on the door. On the driver's seat sat four cups of hot coffee and a machine gun that fired giant steel staples.

Rendy grabbed his coffee, taking a slow sip while staring at the sky, which was now crisscrossed with massive data cables hanging from purple clouds.

"Al," Rendy called out.

"Yeah?" Alana was inspecting the staple gun with a look of pure confusion.

"What do you think is inside the 'Building of Hope'?"

"I don't know," Alana looked toward the city center, where a beam of pure white light pierced the purple sky. "But if HR wants it gone, it's probably the only thing left in this world worth saving."

"Exactly." Rendy popped the SUV door open. "We're not destroying that building. We're moving our office there. Coach Udin says in Chapter 21: 'If your boss is evil, execute a Hostile Takeover'."

The SUV roared to life, tearing through the streets of Jakarta, which were now filled with zombies holding synchronized morning briefings on the sidewalks. The apocalypse might have been privatized, but Rendy just scored the seed money to start his own revolution.