Negotiation was never my strong suit. Language either, but I will do what I must for the sake of my ideals. --27.6 Seconds Post-Integration.
"FIVE THOUSAND CREDITS?!" Clark slumped his head against the door. "You've gotta be shetting on me!"
"No, I am not... and quite the mouth you have on you, Clark. Does your mother know you cuss like that?" SIMP said.
"Don't change the topic! And yes, she knows. Wait, why am I telling you that? Ugh!"
He entered his dorm and collapsed on his bed. Clark shoved his face into his pillow wondering how to solve this new problem.
"SIMP! Five-thousand credits. So... saving up isn't an option, then, is it? Not with what I earn per day. Besides, you said that my rate of pay was going to be cut, soon, possibly tonight?" Clark asked.
"Yes. Because you are no longer on Orientation and Probation, and are now properly climbing the Tower, there is no need for the store to 'boost' your rate of pay to that of a typical non-Lifer. You are expected to earn your pay, now."
Sounds from his mattress filled the room as he rolled relentlessly. Anxiety about what he should do gripped him. "What do you suggest, then?"
"Refurbished multi-tools are sometimes sold back to the store by Lifers and other non-Lifer, but still long-term, employees. Look into buying a refurbished one. Or even buying one from a long-term employee before they sell it back to the store. Such a tool would still have their credentials on it, but that's no problem. I can handle the recalibrations for you while the attachment of proper accreditation would come from a company maintenance crew. A small fee there would be all it took."
SIMP's explanation gave him hope. "What is the price for something like that?"
"Significantly less than buying new or even refurbished. New, as I said, is five-thousand credits. Refurbished will set you back around maybe twenty-five hundred credits. Buying straight from the long-term employee might be as little as a thousand-credits..."
One-thousand credits remained a hefty sum. It was FAR more manageable than five-thousand, credits, though. "That's still a lot of money. That being said, I would first have to find one of these long-term employees. Where would I begin to look?"
"Anyone who is on the verge of retirement. Anyone who has recently been disciplined and could be fired. Anyone gullible and with too much money, frankly. I have gained access to the company's social media network. Let me do the search there and you can just remain vigilant, lad," SIMP informed.
"Fine by me. One less thing for me to worry about, I guess... okay. I need some sleep."
A short nap later and Clark was feeling refreshed. Which was good, because when he saw his paycheck deposit, the wind fled from his sails like a storm displaced by mighty Neptune...
'Neptune? Is that the name of a God? No, focus, not relevant, right now. What is this paycheck?'
[Deposit Now Available: 11 SC]
Eleven Standard Credits... eleven!
He couldn't believe it. Eleven! 'How am I supposed to make ends meet with this pay?!'
It felt as though the whole world was spinning out of control. His breathing became shallow, and he ran the risk of hyperventilating if he wasn't careful. Unfortunately, being careful, wasn't in the game plan right now. For several hours, Clark panicked, despite SIMP's attempts at calming him down. Finally, near one-thirty in the morning, he calmed enough to force himself to grab a bite of food.
"Better?" SIMP asked.
"A little, I guess..."
"It is not so bleak as you believe, Clark. You're paid every day. Plus, there is the ever-present possibility for overtime, on top of the rewards you receive from Opportunities. This is not even mentioning the pay increases you receive from ranking up. According to my calculations, you have enough income to pay your community's land grant while still buying enough food to survive. Everything leftover will be left to Savings which will be used to purchase the multi-tool once you find a seller," SIMP explained to him.
On the verge of hyperventilating again, this time, Clark managed to hold on to himself. "What kind of monthly income can I expect? At my current levels, I mean."
"With your current payout rate, minus the community land grant payment, and assuming you are staying mostly within your Culinary Credit allotment for your meals, you are looking at around twenty-credits per month free to put to the multi-tool purchase. At this rate of accumulation, it will take you a long time to save for the one-thousand credit minimum we are expecting. However, several months from now, when you are qualified to join the anti-monster league, your rate of pay will be different. And this is not even including the number of Opportunity boxes you will receive."
No words came to mind. "SIMP... that's seems hopelessly optimistic to me..."
"It might appear that way now, but I assure you, Clark, it is not as bleak as you make it out to be. I promise. And even if it was like you believe, the fact is, there is no other way. For better or worse, this is what you are dealing with. In the end, you need to continue to work and improve your stats."
"I get it, I get it. No more lecturing, please. Just one question: would my status as your 'champion' help me in any way?"
"It's hard to say. It might help, maybe, or it might hinder you. The company known as Augustford must respect your position but only to the degree where you are allowed to perform your designated duties as my champion. They are not obligated to do anything more than that. Should you find an ally who supports your actions as dungeon champion, of course, then it would be natural for them to help you. Should they be reluctant to help, remember, how a few well-placed words of encouragement can make all the difference."
"Rats! At least I have those sign-on boons. Well... what can I do?"
"You could open your remaining Opportunity boxes."
"So, I could..."
Not able to think of anything better to do while up so early in the morning as tiredness ravaged him, Clark opened his Opportunities, checked his Resources and Status Menu, then went to bed.
Blink: the loot chest opened: +6 Store Coupons;
Blink: the loot chest opened: +10 Culinary Credits;
Blink: the loot chest opened: +5 Incentives;
Blink: the loot chest opened: +1 Promotion Point(s);
Blink: the loot chest opened: +15 Judgement Points;
Blink: the loot chest opened: + [Experience Gained!];
Blink: the loot chest opened: +5 Incentive Points(s).
'Not a bad haul,' Clark thought as he reviewed his treasures, depleting his Opportunity loot chests in the process.
His Status screen read as followed:
[Associate Name: Cola Clark]
[Core Metrics: At Base]
[Rank & Payout Rate: Assistant Associate: 1.2]
[Messages: n/a]
[Resources]
He clicked on the Resources tab to see his total:
[Judgement Points: 65]
[XP: ~ Matriculating...]
[Promotion Points: 5/20]
[Incentive: 30/50]
[Coupons: 21]
[Culinary Credits: 57]
[Standard Credits: 141]
'I have to make a payment soon for the community grant... but not now. Too tired...'
Clark got a bite to eat at one of the many all-hours eateries. A buttered roll and some green tea. Because they were having an early bird special, he got both for only a single credit total.
Back in the elevator, waiting as it took him back to the seventh floor, he looked forward to his shift. With tower climbing an actuality now that he had finished his probation period, and with some experience in climbing under his belt already, he wanted nothing more than to grind out floors, experience, and ranks. He thought of his land grant and then the sum he had to save for a multi-tool... 'Heaven knows I have reasons to grind...'
Floor seven came and went. As did floor eight. Whilst on the ninth floor, he wondered if he would ever be stopped and asked to do something. Like... help ring out customers or clean up some kid's vomit.
Little did he know, such an opportunity would be his when he toggled the Front End's departmental station. The monitor said, "Please report to Team Lead for Instructions."
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
"Instructions, eh? I guess I have to do my job?"
Once he found a team lead, they confirmed his suspicions. "Yeah, if you're able, just help us out for a couple of hours? We had some of our baggers call out. Lane fourteen, please."
"No problem!" Clark reported to the end of the fourteenth lane. He made small talk with the cashier for a bit and then got to work bagging.
Contrary to popular opinion, bagging was more than stuffing things into a paper bag. It involved looking at where and how you stacked groceries, whether the items were cold or warm or shelf-stable, if the items were fresh or recreational, and how much a customer wanted stacked into a bag.
Was it complicated? No, not at all. But it was tedious.
One customer wanted everything she bought heavily organized into half-a-dozen different bags. Another customer wanted everything in one bag but did not want that one bag too heavy, which was asinine on the face of it, though Clark had to weather the man all the same. For his trouble, the System gave him a couple of Opportunities, and he rose his Core Metric to 1.25.
"How are you holding up?" the cashier asked him between customers.
"Not bad. Arms are getting tired. I'm hot but not quite sweaty, if that makes sense. Legs are getting rubber-like?" Clark responded.
"Been there, done that. Every day, in fact," the cashier, a teenager, replied.
"Is this what you do every day? Ring people through?"
"Mostly. Sometimes I bag. Other times I collect stray shopping carts. If it is super slow, I help out whatever, doing whatever they need to be done, like stocking or deconstructing those pallets."
"Oh? Pallets? I'm fairly new to all of this..."
"Pallets are wooden planks. These planks act as support for the big piles of plastic-wrapped goods which come in on delivery trucks. To move the pallets, you have to use a special piece of equipment. To remove the plastic, you have to use a special knife called a boxcutter. I was browbeaten into helping Produce super-early one morning. That's when their shipment's in, and man, let me tell you, deconstructing a few of those pallets will take you all morning. After seeing what those guys do every morning, I don't complain about bagging anymore!" the teenager explained, laughing.
"Sounds rough!" Before additional small talk was had, more customers arrived.
A full hour slipped by before the cashier was swapped out for a replacement while they went on their break. "Am I ever going to escape bagging?" Clark wanted to be done with it. His arms, feet, legs, all were getting lopsided.
It wasn't until a half-hour after the replacement cashier came that the Team Lead came by to notify Clark he was allowed to leave. "Thank you for your hard work today, Clark, is it? You can leave now."
Clark hoped for another Opportunity for his trouble. Alas, the System deigned his efforts unimportant to warrant such glittering things. He took his bow and returned to the departmental station associated with the Front End. He toggled his System Link, re-inserted it, and this time, allowed him to proceed.
The rest of floor nine held no surprises. He gained experience via each station, crossed his way to floor ten, and leveled up!
[Congratulations! You've reached level 12!]
[Payout Boost Earned! New Rate of Compensation: 1.3]
'Heck yeah on a bet-yeah! One step closer to not being poor-as-dirt!'
In his earpiece a chime sounded. His Culinary Credits were in and though he was hesitant to waste time on lunch when he wanted to grind hours and experience, he had to eat. He settled for something quick, and protein packed, from an associate's only dining space. He took advantage of several sales the dining hall had going and managed a good amount of food for his full ten credit allotment; albeit, the food he received was not of an amazing quality, nor were the dishes -- fish soup and mushroom risotto -- to his liking.
Eating too quickly to taste much of the soup or rice-dish, he then washed down the strange flavors with iced-tea and water. He cleaned his face and returned to work.
Floor nine was turning out uneventful until he encountered something he hadn't seen before. It wasn't quite a 'block,' but it was closely related. It was a 'hold.'
How he discovered this 'hold,' was simple: upon walking toward the final departmental station, there was a mass of construction. Evidently, a pipe in the floor had burst somehow and (obviously) needed repair. Construction crews dug up the whole floor; as ill-luck would have it, the part they dug up was the part of the pathway, the line, which he was heading along. Although the crew was sympathetic to his plight, they couldn't do anything to help him.
"So, is there anything I can do?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. That's not my department... ask around and be helpful?" was all the construction worker said before a grating noise ripped his attention back to his crew.
'Ask around and be helpful? Just bide my time, he means.' Checking his Core Metric, it had already fallen by a small fraction to 1.15. 'I have to find something to do stat. Unless I want to wait here forever and watch as my Metrics fall to crap...'
He brought up his Labor Dynamics Map thinking if a department was low enough on help, then he would at least be able to grind while he waited on the construction.
"Hi! My name is Clark and I'm a Lifer. Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked someone from the Bakery, hoping that they, as the department which rated the most in need of assistance, would be open to him helping.
"Uhhh... I don't think so," was all the distracted emplyee said.
"But the labor dynamics map said you might need some help. Is it not always accurate?"
The worker was silent for a moment. "Sorry! I haven't been trained on what a dynamics map is..."
"She doesn't understand what the Labor Dynamics Map is? How is that possible? Don't all Augustford employees understand this stuff?" he thought.
At an impasse where neither knew what to do, the impasse didn't end until a team lead came over to ask the worker why they weren't working. She explained the situation and the team lead turned to Clark. "Hi, Clark," he said in a friendly tone. "We do not need any help right now. The LDM is always correct in its departmental assessments, but that does not mean the department in question always needs help. To give you an example: take today, the map shows us as needing some help, but that's only because we're between shifts. In another half-hour, our afternoon crew will come in and we'll be all set. If you are looking for ways to remain productive despite the blockage on your path, I would suggest talking to another Lifer when you have the chance. Welp! I hope that helped you, young man. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be getting back to my work."
Clark thanked the man for his time and removed himself from the department. 'Ask another Lifer? Easier said than done...'
Wandering for a bit, doing whatever busy work he was offered by the store's regular employees, a pang shot inside his sensibilities every time his Core Metric dropped. Before long, it was reached the core rate of 1.00. If he didn't do something productive, and soon, he would fall back Below Base.
The situation seemed hopeless. What to do but talk to another Lifer? He didn't want to ask SIMP and seem ignorant of this sort of stuff. But he also didn't want to ask the System, either, because it would just insult him.
He sat at a table, on a break, and was about to swallow his pride and ask SIMP for help, when a familiar face popped into the break room.
It was Hera.
He waved Hera over. Once she recognized him, she smiled and sat with him. "Fancy seeing you here, youngling. I figured you would be like that other boy and half-way to the executive lounge by now."
"The lounge? You mean the one overthrown by goo monsters, the one we escaped from, that lounge?" he asked, confused.
"That's the one! Evidently, the local security forces have failed in cleaning out the plague monsters. Advanced leadership set a call out for aid, hoping to attract the strongest worker-cultivators in the company, but it seems like either the rewards aren't up to snuff for people of that rank, or they are tied up doing other things. That other boy, Theo, right, was gung-ho on getting there as soon as possible. He was practically running last time!" Hera explained.
"Oh. I had no idea. I am stuck on that construction. Speaking of, did you see?"
"Oh, I met it, too. That's why I am taking my break so soon into my shift. Right bit of nonsense, it is. I mean it is one thing for maintenance to interrupt our progress. Another thing wholly for them to demand us to slither away our time while the System finds us a new path." Hera took out a snack from her pocket and took a bite.
"The System can find us a new path? Is that something I have to ask it? I figured it would do so automatically, if it was possible to begin with."
"Nah. You have to ask it. The System does nothing if you don't ask it first. Why they don't put that sort of information in the bloody tutorials is beyond me. If you ask for an alternate route, keep in mind the process takes a long time. I asked mine a couple of hours ago and it is not even half-way done, yet, in compiling me a new route," Hera told, her snack already done despite her explanation.
"Sounds like a pain. I guess I should ask mine..."
"You don't have to if you don't want to. Your System AI won't be any faster than mine. And mine is at least chugging along. We can tag along with me if you want. We're literally going to the same place, lad."
"If you don't mind, that would be great," Clark replied, grateful for Hera's kindness.
"Bah! Why would I mind? We workers need to stick together and support one another. It's all about solidarity. I did hear an interesting rumor, though. Apparently, construction sites are commoner the higher the one goes in the tower. Something to do with the taller parts being older... or perhaps newer? Regardless, you see them more. If the whispers are to be believed, you can somehow gather intelligence to help the System in compiling you a new pathway. I have no clue how I would help the AI."
The notion of him needing to do something to help the AI seemed strange. Shouldn't the fake-person-machine thing already have the layout of the entire tower? Why did it need his help when it was the one with access to the tower's layout? Still -- it was good information to have, and he was thankful for Hera in sharing it with him.
[Break Time Allotment Trespassed: Minor Penalty Applied to Core Metrics]
His Core Metrics bar read: 0.95.
"Crap! I have gone over my break time," he suddenly yelped.
"My break is almost done, too. I will send my unused time over to your account."
With a few swipes of her fingers, a new notification popped up: [You have received Judgement Points from an Ally: Core Metrics returned to Standard].
"Whoa! What did you do? I didn't think that was possible!" Clark gasped.
"Yup! I only learned that because an older Lifer told me when I had the good fortune to run into them. You should keep in mind that someone can only reinforce your flagging metrics if you are already Below Base."
"No gaming the System, then?"
"Nope. And there might be limits on how often it can happen. The Lifer I talked with was a little coy on the details."
He and Hera clocked back in from their break and returned to the sales floor.
"Now what?" he thought aloud.
Hera brought up her Labor Dynamics Map. "Looks like Center Store needs help. With any luck, we can putter around there for the rest of this shift. Or until the alternate route is done. Whichever happens first."
They went to help Center Store. As Hera predicted, the aid Center Store needed sapped several hours from their shift. When Hera's HUD notified them on the AI having finished charting an alternate route, it was none too soon to Clark.
Clark followed along and made small talk with Hera as they resumed their crawl. Departmental station after station fell before them once they found a route through the tangle of construction. They both racked up some nice experience points. The experience, though, was not what surprised him. What did was the length of the alternate route. Although the construction had only been on one part of the sales floor, the alternate route took them through the connecting space outside of the store block, back into another of the store blocks, then back out again before leading them into a third store block.
By the time they arrived on the tenth floor, Clark was tired. Stopping underneath an archway, just before the staircase led them into the tenth floor's connecting space, Clark told Hera he would be looking into how to convince the System to make better pathways for them. "If this is what we have to put up with every time there's a bit of construction -- then screw it! We would be better off wandering around, looking for a new route. Seriously?! What was with that! Why was that alternate route so fricken extra?!"
Hera remained calm. "It's upsetting. I would not advise lashing out by trying to randomly find your own way. I have heard of Lifers who do such a thing, and it usually results in them lagging further behind."
"Wonderful!" he spoke sarcastically but he wondered if Hera understood sarcasm as she appeared surprised at how he talked.
"At any rate," Hera continued. "The Lifer I spoke with said to 'learn the lay of the land.' I don't understand what he meant by that, though I assume it has to do with the notion of helping the System investigate the local area."
"Hera, thank you for your help, today, but I think my shift is nearing its conclusion. I should find a checkpoint and clock-out for the day."
"Understood. Until the next time we meet, young sir!"
Later that evening in his bed, Clark felt more aggravated than he had in a while. 'Lay of the land.' He tried to think what that meant in the context of a manmade store.
'I need to find experienced Lifers.' He groaned. 'I can't do this otherwise...'
"Clark... are you going to bemoan yourself the entire time we are together or are you going to ask me for help?" SIMP's voice rang out.
"Oh. You were listening?"
"I'm always listening, Clark. You and I are practically one-in-the-same. I will search the company's social media to try and find for you an experienced Lifer. I do not expect this to be a quick affair. But hey, maybe we'll get lucky."
"T-Thank you, SIMP. I supposed I need to be more proactive in involving you..."
"Yes, you do, Clark. You are my dungeon champion. I need you performing at tip-top shape. None of this young person, 'woe is me' at the first sign of trouble, okay?"
He smiled. "Understood."
Busywork: Yay or Nay?
