The tower is forged from materials alien to my sensibilities despite their overall. There is a deeper meaning to it, and I will uncover all. --31.2 Seconds Post-Integration.
Floor nineteen came and went -- as did a level up!
[Congratulations! You've reached Imbued Level 15!]
Per the norm, Clark liked the level up. He did not like how it lacked a pay increase, though. Still, he couldn't complain. It meant he was one level closer to qualifying for the anti-monster league.
'Okay, stairwell, lead me on!'
Clark climbed the stairwell his path-line demanded he take. Above, was the twentieth floor. A part of him wondered how good his progress was compared to other Lifers. He had met Hera a couple days ago, which seemed good in his book that his progress wasn't far behind the average Lifer... Although Hera said Theo had been busy and was ahead of them. So, the question was, was the typical Lifer as expediated as Theo or as 'slow,' as he and Hera?
Crossing over to the twentieth floor's connecting zone, he earned an Accomplishment:
[Floor Climber: Regular: Climb Twenty Floors; DESCRIPTION: 'You've proven you haven't yet tripped over yourself and broken your neck. What a golden goose you must be!']
'One more Accomplishment down. Cool, right? Why am I talking to myself? I seem to be doing that an awful lot since coming here...'
Expecting an easy shift, like his last few ones had been, where he was content to mindlessly climb higher and higher, he was disappointed as the checkpoint for the Front End ordered him to go to lane five for bagging duty. 'Seriously? Bagging duty? Ugh!'
Clark found his lane easily enough. He waved, smiled to the cashier, and spoke pleasant but pointless words about being 'happy to be here!'
The actual labor passed as tediously as he knew it would. The highlight of the day was when he got to use a handheld scanner to 'bust' the larger items of a customer's cart on the bottommost rung of the cart. An activity which was harder said than done, because the customer, being, perhaps, of an ill-completed mindset, demanded he 'be careful!' with his large bag of dog food as he attempted to locate the barcode because, evidently, these bags were prone to ripping open despite them being made of high-quality fabric. When customers got this way, there was only one recourse -- wait until they had their backs turned and proceed to a dizzying eye-rolling.
"Thanks for your help today, Clark!" a service lead said before sending him back on his way.
He gave his typical noncommittal response before resuming his trek. He walked easily to the next checkpoint -- this one for Produce -- and toggled it. [Please report to the backend].
'Seriously? Oh well. Onwards!'
Clark followed a breadcrumb trail to where the System wanted him to be. There, a team lead for the Produce department was waiting for him. "There you are. Okay, today all I need you to do is fill these plastic jars with a berry mix, top it with whipped cream and sugar, and then weigh it on the scale. Once weighed, hit this button, and a label will print. Any questions?"
He took a moment to mentally repeat the process. He asked a couple of quick questions on how to use the weighing scale and dual label printing machine, then said he had it down pat. The System would lead him through any missteps, so he didn't want to waste the team lead's time. He only asked the questions he did, since it was good for his HONOR Core Metric rating, as it showed dedication to the process.
The following couple of hours were boring but easy. 'Take the plastic container, fill it with a scoop of mixed berries, spray some whipped cream into a swirled tip, then sprinkle with blue and red sugar. Attach lid, place on scale, hit button...'
Over and over again he performed his simple action. Container, scoop, cream, sprinkle, lid, scale, button. The process repeated in his mind in a flash before he even plucked a container.
When the team lead returned, his mind has melted somewhat. "Whoa! You got a lot done! You Lifers really are a different breed!"
Only a half-smile he returned to the team lead. He exited Produce's dingily lit backend and returned to his crawl. Every step he took while back on the main sales floor was like a mini-vacation after the mind-numbing activity of creating the in-store berry products.
Coming to the Entertainment department, he fingered the large-sign-like checkpoint like he had the previous two. Much like the two previous checkpoints, this one ordered him to report to the service counter for departmental aid. 'Three in a row. What're the odds?!'
A team lead whose name he only glanced at said they had a couple of callouts earlier and were in need of people to stock the shelves. "Take that dolly, load it with product, and go where the boxes align with the aisles. Got it?"
Because the team lead had the attitude of a struck pig, Clark said he 'had it.' He unfolded a dolly, handy for moving piles of packages, and filled it up with boxes of movies.
For a full hour, he moved between the backend and the aisles, filling whatever needed to be filled. Movies, games, strange electronic 'pets,' and more items besides, which he had no clue about, such as rotary phones and pagers. All the while, he wondered who used these items and for what purpose. "What strange lives they must lead," he concluded. "To warrant the use of talk over such a distance. Why not plan to meet and chit-chat at agreed upon times?"
His labor only lasted the hour. At which time, he smiled, then moved back on his trek.
Next up was Exotic Meats. To no one's surprise, let alone his, this department, too, needed help. At this point, with so many of this floor's departments needing aid, he wondered why there wasn't a block on progress for this floor. 'Maybe for a block to be enacted, multiple store blocks on the floor need to be shorthanded?' It was the only thing which made sense...
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"What shall I do?" Clark asked with mirth to his voice. Better to put on a good face than a bad attitude.
The team lead sneezed, washed his hands, slowly, and only then addressed Clark, though not before letting out a massive groan. "See that cleansing wash? Dose your hands then rub the meat. And don't complain!"
"Yes, sir! Will do!" Clark said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Tempting though it would be to give the man a hard time, he knew better than to egg on someone behaving less than at their best.
Like most things in retail, the labor was not hard, but it was tiresome.
To ensure not too much of the cleansing wash came out at once, he had to be careful with how much of a tilt he used on the bottle. And before he used the wash, he had to ensure the meat he was going to use it on was already out and ready for its pat down. Then came the actual wash.
Like the day itself, the work was tedious for his hands, which by the end of the job, had partially frozen over. Intense minutes of thoroughly cleaning the meat's nooks and crannies resulted in his hands feeling like ice blocks. It was amazing how chilled Augustford could keep their products. Back in his hometown, to keep something cold required the use of underground spaces of literal ice blocks. That or a magically induced cooling crystal.
[Accomplishment Unlocked: 'Inter-Department Trainee']
[Description: Use four department tools in a single shift: 'A regular Every Man. Which means you're a master of none. Pitiable.']
"You're free to go," the team lead burped out after two hours of nonstop meat washing.
As he approached the next departmental checkpoint, he hesitated a moment before swiping his System Link. 'I am probably due to help out in Homes and Gardens, yeah?' he sarcastically noted.
To his surprise, the checkpoint waved him through. "Oh, really? Thank you, Mistah checkpoint!" Clark practically spit at the checkpoint. He wanted to literally spit, but didn't want to use his 'get out of jail free' Mega coupon, so he resisted the urge.
Which was good, because though the rest of floor twenty passed inconsequently, the second departmental checkpoint on floor twenty-one, proved less so.
"Another construction block? Seriously?!"
A piercing, curse-laden groan escaped his lip. 'There was a construction block just a few floors below. How is there another one already?!'
Why some days more than others tested his nerves remained a mystery. If this was how working for Augustford was going to be, maybe he should save himself the heartache and throw himself over the nearest ledge now, that way, he would at least avoid the headaches...
'Calm, calm... no angry, invasive thoughts, Clark. Keep yourself easygoing. Now, look at the sign. What does it say? Keep calm while looking at the sign. do it for your community, for your family.' Clark told himself, took a deep breath, then looked. The notice on the checkpoint said, "Hallway Maintenance Ahead."
'Okay, that is fine.' Clark took a deep breath. 'Hallway work. Remember what the drunk Lifer told you. Search out meta-data and then ask the AI to chart you a new pathway. Simple.'
"System: begin charting an alternate line-path for me," he asked it SIMP-but-not-SIMP.
The AI replied in its typical flat, angry old man voice. "Yes, master."
'Now, meta-data...' For this, he was going to ask SIMP if the data ports the drunk Lifer was talking about truly were any data-ports, but thought he needed to stand on his own two feet. He went off in search of data ports in the corridors and spaces surrounding the passage blocking his advancement.
'The trick now is to find things to do as I search for data ports. Shouldn't be too hard, yeah? Considering the nonstop bull, I had to put up with earlier in the day, there should be plenty of things to do.' Which was a good guess on his part, but one which was wrong. It seemed that in the latter half of the store, there was very little to do. Seeing his Core Metrics drip, Clark thought of a bold move: "If I can mop or sweep, that might stow the worst of the drip."
With mop in hand and a mop bucket as his guide, Clark started his journey to find data-ports. By a customer service station in the hallway adjacent to the one under construction, he found one; he inserted his toggle and bink, received some data on the surrounding layout.
The data popped up on his blue screen, but a sub-screen that said, 'Maps.' Curious if he could lay this architectural-map over his typical mini-map, he leapt in joy when his layering was a success. 'Neat. Now I should be able to find more data-ports easily. Assuming the ports link to one another. Looks like they do...'
His beefed-up map indicated where another data-port was -- in the hallway on the other side of the one under construction -- 'big shocker there,' he quipped -- but otherwise found it easily. When he discovered the second data-port, it led, as he thought, to the next data-port, and the next. His assumption proved correct. Every data-port held at least one location of an adjacent data-port. Unfortunately, not every data port provided him with data for charting an alternate route. Some ports were irrelevant because they held data not for passageways and the like, but communication means. Once a data-port indicated it held actual blueprint information, he automatically assigned it to the AI's task of compiling his alternate route. He knew it worked only if the percentage meter on the alternate route's completeness filled some. Most of the time, the percentage meter did not fill. This meant he had to spend a great deal of time arbitrarily plugging his System Link into every port he found. Which was, in a word, tedious.
As he went on a heck of an egg-hunt, Clark did his best to also do any miscellaneous tasks he saw fit to handle. Cleaning up little messes left behind by customers and their brood, returning items which had been refunded back to their proper places, and other tasks besides. This kept his Core Metric above the water, by which, he meant prevented it from sliding away from his hard-fought for positive territory. Sometimes customers would come to him needing assistance. Unlike when he was Climbing, he loved these moments, as it always provided his Metrics with breathing room.
The search for data-ports dragged on for over an hour-and-a-half. Everything from phone jacks to toaster ports fell victim to his relentless buggering. By the end of it, he had what he was looking for -- a completed alternate route.
"Alternate Route charted," the System AI informed him. "Please proceed to the position indicated on your map."
'Finally!' Clark muttered. He spent way too much time digging through data, ports, and worming his way down the strangest hallways filled with junk just to locate a tiny little jack in the wall.
Following along the alternate route was not a unique experience. It was, in fact, the same as the so-called 'prepared route' which was the default line-path. The alternate route had him go through departmental checkpoints, except just in other store blocks, and it even had him go through part of a stairwell. And before long, with an inconsequential step, the System informed him he had returned to the primary line-path. By then, he had only been on the alternate route for fifteen minutes, if that. 'All that work for a tiny detour. You've gotta be kidding me!'
Clark gritted his teeth and moved past the reality of working. He was due for a lunch break.
Per the norm, now, his Culinary Credit sum came and went. At this point in how Clark worked, he had started following SIMP's warnings about eating more, so he had been spending his whole Culinary Credit allowance per day, even if the dishes offered weren't to his liking. He went for the protein heavy dishes with lots of fiber, if possible. With basic iced-water and the occasional sweet snack, every meal became a micro-feast; it did, at least, compared to how he had eaten back in his hometown. Although, if he was being honest, the quality did leave something to be desired...
Smoothly walking to the next departmental checkpoint -- now on floor 23 -- he began to feel the burn of nonstop walking up stairs. A few flights might not be anything worth writing home about, but several floors worth? That was another matter entirely.
Once the checkpoint for the Homes and Gardens department pinged him to go ahead, he was going to take one of his allotted fifteen-minute breaks when he saw, who else, but Theo.
How Long Do You Work at a Place before Quitting?
