There were several pods with four comfortable-looking chairs facing one another and surrounding a round, wooden coffee table. Ahead of the lounge area stood a security scanner with several guards stationed beside it. They stood perfectly still, wearing dark suits with name tags on their jackets, each wearing an earpiece in their left ear.
In front and to the right of the security checkpoint was a large marble and wood reception desk with the words TONGSLY BELCH CORPORATION written in golden block letters next to a logo that showed a simplistic drawing of High Baron Tongsly Belch holding up a large Belch Buch between the thumb and forefinger of one hand. The slogan PROUDLY PURSUING PERPETUAL PROFIT was written in cursive script below the company name.
Two receptionists sat bolt upright behind the reception desk, tapping away at their keyboards and grinning inanely as they stared at their computer monitors. There were men and women in suits talking with one another in small groups, holding briefcases or coffee cups. Some moved through the scanner and headed toward the elevator shaft on the far side of the floor, but the moment they reached the elevator, they turned around and came back again, repeating the circuit like robotic guards on patrol.
"I figured we'd be fighting more goblins," Ollie whispered.
"Apparently not," Pete said, gritting his teeth. "Looks like the System's gonna make us fight our own kind."
Sam nodded. "Like the damned Noob Riders."
"The what?" Ollie said, his head twisting around to look at Sam.
"Long story," she replied. "In case you haven't figured it out, though, the System likes forcing us to fight against humans. These bastards get some kind of sick thrill out of it."
"It is the same with every contest," Craig said, raising his rifle and aiming at the distant figures. "While my people are often used in the initial wave of enemies, the System quickly incorporates the native species into the game. There will be more of my kind, however, much more. Hobgoblins too, and likely fiercer enemies like orcs."
Pete scanned the horizon and spotted figures walking around in the near distance. They were dressed in business suits and dresses just like he'd see in any ordinary office building anywhere in the country. Something was off about the way the distant figures walked, however. It wasn't quite zombie-like, but they moved in a stilted fashion, arms and legs moving robotically as though they were being controlled by some remote device.
Most unnerving of all, the people were grinning too much, showing their teeth as they smiled at one another. They were also talking to one another. Pete couldn't make out what was being said, but something about the subtle rumbling of their voices made him feel queasy and caused him to lose focus.
"What are they doing?" Sam asked. "Just standing there?"
"Maybe they're programmed not to attack until we're in range?" Ollie suggested.
"They're not robots, are they?" Pete asked.
Ollie shrugged. "They sure as hell look like it. A bunch of corporate drones. You know what I mean, though, right? Maybe they won't attack until we make the first move or if we walk into their attack zone."
Pete considered the suit-wearing business types walking around the ground floor. Ollie was right; they were going through the motions like robots set to follow a specific circuit until they were interrupted. Pete also noticed something he couldn't quite explain at the rear of each figure. He couldn't see it all the time, but when one of the corporate drones turned around, the air directly behind their head seemed to blur momentarily. It was as though something was there, fixed to the back of each human skull but camouflaged.
"What if they're just human," he said, "but they're being controlled by some kind of device?"
"They're still enemies," Ollie insisted. "And they're gonna try to kill us if we don't get to them first."
"Maybe," Sam said. "But this could be exactly like the Noob Riders. They weren't technically enemies; they'd just been tortured and turned into scooters. Could be the same with these people."
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter either way," Ollie pressed. "If they're being used by the System as enemies, then we need to put them down. It's sad, but we don't have a choice. Hell, they could have bombs in their bodies, waiting to go off when they get too close."
Sam shot Pete a sideways glance.
"Okay," he said, locking onto the elevator door on the opposite side of the ground floor. "Bottom line is that we need to fight our way to the other side of the room, but we don't know what these enemies are or what they can do yet. I say we try to lure one out and see what we're dealing with here. The System should give us a description if we can get close enough?"
"Agreed," Sam said.
"Okay," said Ollie, hefting his maul. "But we should be prepared just in case we're dealing with walking bombs here."
"I should be able to pick one of them off with an arrow," Pete said. "I'll graze an arm or something like that, so it's not fatal. Just enough to get their attention so that we can get a good look at them."
Sam shook her head. "How about you let Coop try that new aggro ability? She can pull an enemy, hopefully without dragging any of the others over."
"Good idea," he agreed. "Coop, are you ready to give it a try?"
"Ready as I'll ever be. Which one do you want me to hook?"
Pete scanned the drones milling about in the lounge section of the floor. Two corporate drones were talking with one another at the nearest seating pod. They stood opposite each other, grinning stupidly as they exchanged muffled words.
"How about the guy in the pinstripe suit on the left there?" Pete replied. "Try to get him when he's on his own. I think that other one is gonna shift over to another pod soon."
Coop padded forward, moving a few steps in front of the others. They all watched as the pinstripe businessman and a woman in the dark blue dress stopped talking, the latter turning mechanically and walking off.
"Now," Pete hissed.
"Hold on to your butts," Coop said, triggering her new ability.
Pete felt something shift in the air ahead of Coop and, a moment later, an angry red skull emoji appeared above the head of the drone in the pinstriped business suit. His head spun around and, once more, Pete spotted the slight distortion in the air behind the drone's head.
The drone moved quickly, striding at speed toward Coop while still wearing the manic smile. It was speaking too, Pete realized as it drew closer, telling some inane story about taking his dog to the park at the weekend, its voice utterly devoid of inflection.
"Dougle doesn't play well with larger dogs," the drone said. "He thinks he's much bigger than he actually is, God love him. Little guy will take on dogs twice his size just on principle."
The drone's movements were far less mechanical than they had been while it was standing in place, talking to a variety of other drones that cycled past. Instead of a robot, it now moved much more like a human; a human that was hell-bent on reaching Coop as quickly as possible.
>> NON PLAYER CAPITALIST [NPC] GROUP
NAME: Profit Peons
TYPE: Repurposed Hooman
THREAT TIER: Low
>> DESCRIPTION
Profit Peons are endlessly replaceable, low-level office workers that spend their days shackled to cubicles, armed with spreadsheets and petty resentments and fueled by reheated coffee and birthday cake. Harvested from among the countless ranks of existing worker bees that populate this planet's unimaginative cities, these repurposed hoomans have been fitted with rudimentary weapons and are controlled by goblin pilots by means of remote-control devices fixed to each Peon.
>> ATTACK ABILITIES
+| SMALL TALK: The Profit Peon initiates mandatory social engagement, rambling about their weekend, commute, or an unsolicited hobby. This ability applies the BORED TO TEARS debuff for 6 seconds, reducing accuracy by 50% and critical strike chance by 20% for all enemies within a ten-foot range.
+| COFFEE SCOLD: The Profit Peon hurls a cup of scalding, over-roasted corporate coffee at its enemies. Using this ability will make the Peon lethargic for 5 seconds after the attack, reducing movement speed and attack speed by 20% during this time.
Coffee Scold deals 120% scalding damage on hit and can affect multiple enemies within a five-foot radius of the Profit Peon.
Applies the Burned status for 4 seconds (10% additional scold damage per second).
Coffee Scold also has a 5% chance to create Spilled Coffee on the ground for 5 seconds, which results in a 30% reduction in movement speed to impacted enemies and a 15% chance for enemies to slip and fall prone.
+| HR VIOLATION: The Profit Peon swings a fist, briefcase, or pile of important documents at the enemy, dealing 100% bludgeoning damage and earning themselves an HR write-up. 5% chance to stagger enemies with each strike.
+| PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE EMAIL: The Profit Peon sends a weaponized follow-up, CC'ing their imaginary supervisor. Summons a Supervisor Specter for 8 seconds.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
>>SPECTER ABILITIES:
Attacks once every 2 seconds, berating the enemy and dealing 60% Psychic Damage per hit. Each hit applies the Judged status, reducing Mental Resistance to Psychic Damage by 10% (stacks up to 3 times). The Specter cannot be targeted or damaged but can be dispelled.
>> DEFENSIVE ABILITIES
+| POLICY SHIELD: The Profit Peon shelters behind corporate policy, legal disclaimers, and procedural nonsense. The Policy Shield provides a 25% damage reduction and 30% resistance to area of effect damage and negative status effects for 5 seconds.
"Okay," Ollie said, walking up behind Coop and shaking his head as the drone approached. "That confirms it. These guys are enemies, so there's no need to pussyfoot around anymore. Fifty bucks says I one-shot the bastard."
"Don't be stupid!" Sam called out. "Let someone take it out from a distance!"
Ollie ignored the request, widening his stance as the drone approached and positioning himself between Coop and the oncoming enemy. A moment before the blow was struck, Pete saw something flash from behind the drone's eyes. Pete caught sight of an envelope symbol momentarily flashing over the Peon's head in the split second before Ollie's hammer struck.
The maul hit with enough force to rip through the Peon's skull, but rather than blood and gore pouring out from the enemy's head, a stream of coffee sprayed out, hissing as it hit the floor. Ollie stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding slipping on the rapidly growing pool of piping hot coffee pouring from the dead Peon's wound as the businessman withered and shrank in on itself like a deflated balloon.
"Fuck a duck!" Ollie barked, moving out of range as several of the nearby Peons turned toward the group.
A spectral figure dressed in an expensive-looking business suit and holding a cell phone in one hand appeared behind Ollie. The ghost-like form showed a middle-aged woman with short-cropped hair and piercing eyes. Instead of smiling like the Peons, she wore a heavy scowl and berated Ollie, wagging a finger at him as a swell of luminescent purple shot from the Supervisor's mouth and hit Ollie in the face.
He staggered backward, cursing loudly and spinning his maul around at the enemy. The weapon passed right through the specter without effect as Ollie blinked and tried to focus.
Sam sighed, motioning to the half-dozen new enemies that were rapidly approaching, their faces clown-like as they smiled too broadly.
"I'll help the moron," she said to Pete. "You take care of the others."
Pete nodded, aiming at the closest enemy and firing an arrow as Grizzle and Craig moved ahead in lockstep with Torgo close behind. Coop ran ahead of the trio, blue light shimmering around her as she charged ahead.
The arrow struck one of the Peons in the chest, causing the figure to stumble a few steps before it recovered and continued. Pete immediately pulled out a second arrow, quickly aimed, and fired, this time aiming for the Peon's head.
Hot coffee gushed from the downed enemy as Pete's arrow hit home, driving itself through the forehead of the approaching drone and sending it to the floor amid a growing puddle of scalding coffee.
>> KILL REWARD: 100 Belch Bucks
>> ARCHERY PROFICIENCY +1
"Go for their heads!" Pete called out, reaching for another arrow.
Chains whipped out of Sam's hands as she strolled toward Ollie, bristling with death magic and studded with spectral skulls as they whipped at the ghostly Supervisor. Just like Ollie's swinging maul, the attack failed to latch onto the specter's form, and it lashed out a second time at the Australian, causing him to stumble backward, clutching at his head with his left hand while he dragged the maul against the floor with his right hand.
"Just get out of range!" Sam said. "We can't hurt the damned thing, but it's got an eight-second lifespan, so just MOVE!"
Clearly addled by the psychic damage he'd taken, Ollie stumbled out of range, blood dripping from his nostrils as he and Sam kept clear of the specter. Fortunately, while the Supervisor had appeared right beside Ollie, the ghostly figure moved relatively slowly and was easy enough to avoid. Both Ollie and Sam understood in that moment that the Supervisors would be much more difficult to handle if they approached in numbers.
"You okay?" Sam asked as the specter vanished.
Ollie nodded, wiping blood from under his nose and gritting his teeth. "Yeah, I'm fine. That prick hit like a jackhammer though. I can still feel it rattling around in my head."
"Keep moving then," Sam replied, sending Wolfy out into the throng as Coop slammed into the wave of enemies, her shield bursting and sending the drones backward as the ferret repositioned herself.
Pete loaded another arrow and suddenly realized that he wasn't using any of the arrows he'd obtained before they entered the arena. Instead, it seemed that the soulbound quiver he had recently obtained housed ten standard arrows at all times, regenerating a new arrow each time one was used and ensuring that the quiver was already stocked.
It was clear from the two shots he'd already taken that these arrows didn't cause as much damage as those he'd obtained previously—particularly when compared to the drill arrows—but an everlasting supply of ammunition was nothing to sneeze at.
He fired at two more enemies, taking them out with lethal strikes to the head.
>> KILL REWARD: 200 Belch Bucks
Like the other enemies, these gushed coffee as they withered and fell, pouring the scorching liquid out onto the floor and forming a dangerous hazard that the other Plebs seemed completely impervious to. Pete felt that odd sense of wrongness as more and more of the drones approached the group, their smiling faces uttering blather that itched at the inside of his head and caused him to lose focus.
Craig and his companions had reached the largest knot of drones, Grizzle hunching behind her shield while Torgo poured fire out at the enemies. Craig stood behind the pair, aiming his gun and firing sporadically and ineffectively into the crowd of drones. The sound of Peons muttering their brain rot rose, and Pete could immediately see the effect it was having on the goblins.
[Pete] Craig! You need to get further back. Keep your distance and stay out of range of that Small Talk debuff.
The goblin immediately started running backward, placing some distance between him and the enemy while dragging Torgo with one hand as flames shot from the other goblin's hands. Grizzle maintained her stance, blocking damage from several of the attacking Peons with her shield as they swung fists and briefcases. While she seemed adept at blocking, she was more reluctant to use the sword in her right hand, using it as another tool for mitigating damage rather than a weapon.
As Craig's mind began to clear and the Small Talk debuff faded, he fired into the enemy ranks, this time with more precision. Torgo joined him a moment later, sending gouts of flames to the enemy where he could, but having to temper his attacks a little given that Grizzle was in the firing line more often than not. Pete could see that the trio wasn't used to working as a team like this. They lacked the experience that Ollie, Sam, and Pete himself had gained from years of gaming, and it showed.
Coop squeaked in pain, drawing Pete's attention to the other side of the battle where half a dozen Peons had converged on the little ferret. In addition to the Peons, Pete could see at least three Supervisor specters attacking in unison, lashing Coop's mind with psychic damage as she attempted to flee.
Pete sent a volley of arrows into the chests and heads of the Peons behind Coop, driving them back and realizing his error too late.
>> KILL REWARD: 300 Belch Bucks
Now, not only was Coop being buffeted by the Supervisor attacks, she was having to avoid scalding pools of coffee, her shield struggling to hold back the damage, her eyes wide with panic.
"Sam!" he shouted.
"On it!" she replied as Wolfy suddenly materialized between Coop and the enemy.
The hellhound bit into one of the Peons, tearing into the drone's arm and wrenching its neck around, tearing the limb right off and sending yet more scalding coffee to the ground. Dark ethereal chains whipped out, latching onto three of the Peons at once and draining their energy as Sam used her power to hold the enemies back.
Coop scampered clear of the coffee, running back toward Pete, her fur singed as a burst of healing shot from Ollie's outstretched hand and struck the little ferret's body.
"I can't stop those things!" Coop said, fear in her eyes. "The specters!"
"I know," Pete said, aiming and firing a charged shot at one of the Peons approaching from the middle of the ground floor. "You're gonna have to just avoid them."
>> KILL REWARD: 100 Belch Bucks
Avoiding them, it turned out, wasn't going to be as easy as Pete suggested. That fact was driven home as two Supervisors suddenly appeared behind him, fingers extended as they berated Pete with psychic energy.
A spear of pain shot through his mind, carried by a string of mundane jargon spoken by the Supervisors.
"When we discussed deliverables, timelines, and ownership, the assumption was that you would engage with those concepts in a proactive manner. What I'm seeing, however, is a level of passivity that suggests you may not be fully leveraging your full potential."
Each word bit into Pete's mind, sending a spear of pain into his head as he staggered backward.
"Now, I'm not saying this is a failure. I wouldn't use that word. But I am saying that if this pattern continues, we may need to have a more structured conversation about performance alignment, resource allocation, and whether this role is the best use of everyone's time. Including yours."
The words were spoken softly, but every syllable was a knife stabbing into Pete's head and sending waves of pain cascading down his body. On instinct, he channeled all the money in his wallet to Coop, and his Insolvency debuff kicked in.
Still stumbling backward, he blinked away tears and focused on the Supervisors. They ceased their berating tirade and looked left and right, clearly searching for Pete, but unable to find him. Coop, meanwhile, had run out of range, but it looked like the specters weren't interested in her.
[Pete] Looks like the Supervisors only attack a single target, and they can't see me while I'm in stealth.
[Sam] Good for you, but we're running out of room here! Damned coffee is everywhere.
Pete kept moving, walking into clear space and assessing the scene. Almost the complete width of the floor was covered in scalding coffee, and there were more Peons approaching. Craig and his crew had taken out a bunch of drones but had been forced to retreat under attack from Supervisors and the rivers of coffee that spilled from enemies.
The more Peons they killed, the more perilous the battlefield became. Not killing the Peons wasn't an option; however, as they would continue to summon Supervisors in increasing numbers.
[Pete] Okay, everyone pull back and let's take them out with ranged attacks. Spread out so you can move out of the way when Supervisors appear.
He punctuated the point by firing three arrows in rapid succession, killing one of the Peons and wounding another as his crew began to retreat.
>> KILL REWARD: 100 Belch Bucks
Standing some distance to his right, Craig fired his rifle at a rapid rate, while Torgo lowered his staff and sent a concentrated burst of fire toward the enemy. The fire projectile shot through the lobby, hitting a distant enemy in the chest and spreading liquid fire throughout its body and onto the bodies of nearby enemies. Through the battle din, the sound of Torgo chuckling with laughter reached Pete's ears.
What followed was a frantic dance where anyone with ranged attacks peppered the enemy and kept moving, darting back and forth to avoid Supervisors when they appeared. Those with primarily melee abilities patrolled the area ahead of the ranged attackers, keeping the Peon's attention and constantly moving in an attempt to stay ahead of Supervisors and the large pools of hot coffee that emerged with every new death.
The System description of this enemy wasn't clear on the fact that the coffee, which was both thrown from the Peons and which burst from their bodies upon death, was hotter than hell, causing huge amounts of fire and scalding damage that quickly ate through any defenses. It also failed to mention that the coffee cooled very slowly, meaning that, in the thirty or so seconds the fight had been going, none of the coffee on the floor had cooled sufficiently for Pete and his crew to pass by unharmed.
Then there was the increased risk of slipping and falling prone, which, given the heat coming from the boiling liquid, was much riskier than simply losing one's footing. Pete understood all of this even in the thick of battle, but there was something even more perilous that meant they were rapidly running out of time. Two more guards had appeared by the security checkpoint, and they were making their way slowly through the floor toward where Pete and his companions were battling the Peons.
Suddenly, the warning Pete had been given by Liandra came into sharp focus, and Pete understood at that moment exactly why Overseer Greedwell had chosen this floor to add his little explosive surprise. Pete and his crew were effectively locked in place, hemmed in at the front of the lobby with a river of lethal coffee now between them and the middle of the floor. There were more than enough Peons and Supervisors to keep them busy, and with every new kill, the barrier keeping them in place was strengthened.
The guards would approach and deliver their explosive payload while Pete was locked in place. He wasn't exactly sure how big the explosions would be, but he had to believe that Greedwell wouldn't be taking any chances.
[Pete-Private-Sam] Guards incoming!
[Sam-Private-Pete] Yeah, I see them. I'll keep things under control here, and you take them out. Be quick too; we can't let them get any closer.
Pete notched an arrow and took aim, waiting for his charged shot ability to trigger.
[Pete-Private-Sam] On it.
Precious seconds passed, and Pete aimed for the guard walking on the right. The two guards were already at the halfway point of the lobby and moving at a steady pace.
The charged shot ability triggered, but before he fired, a Supervisor appeared by his side, muttering a psychic castigation as a shard of power cut into his head.