My enemies multiple: there is Dwarven technology, here? No! I mustn't assume. An enemy can be made into a friend. --67.1 Second Post-Integration.
"Do you know what time it is?" SIMP asked him from out-of-the-blue as he finished his homework.
"No, I can't say I do know the time..." he spoke, not sure where SIMP was going. His eyes had grown heavy with fatigue. He wished SIMP would get to the point. When he was tired, he didn't like it when people went the indirect route with their verbalizations.
"I have been monitoring the Anti-Monster League social media page since you were rejected due to enrollment quota being met. Well, moments ago, I read an update: several members were removed recently for substance abuse violations while on the clock."
"Which means," he said, teasing the answer out of his tired mind. "That I can join the Anti-Monster League. Finally!"
That evening passed with all the enthuse of an elderly man's passing. Clark's imagination fired with possibility. If joining Qoon was a strategic decision, one he made with SIMP's blessing, but otherwise not something he was very glad over, then the League would balance it back out. He would know what he was doing in the League. Which was more than he could say with Qoon.
Because sleep was not forthcoming, SIMP had him go out to buy some sleepy tea. Though he didn't expect the tea to do much for him, it managed to knock him out flat into sleep.
The following morning, not having work, he went down first-thing in the morning to the nearest recruitment center.
Having reached the one-hundred and twentieth floor in the several months his team and he spent working, the nearest recruitment center was a few floors below, so he would need to leave early in order to beat the lines which were sure to be there.
He arrived before the recruitment center in a huff for breath. Despite SIMP having given to him a breadcrumb trail to follow, leisurely, they expected, he insisted on barrowing through the trail as fast as his legs could take him. Seeing there were no lines once he arrived, he felt silly for having pushed himself so much.
Inside the center, the single clerk manning the desk looked bored. They saw him approach but made no show of welcoming him other than standing a touch straighter. "Hi. How can I help you?" To say the clerk sounded bored was an understatement.
"I would like to join the Anti-Monster League, please." Clark spoke softly, not wanting his emotions to clog the process he waited so long for.
The clerk's nametag read Grinch. An appropriate name for someone who, by Clark's count, had already rolled their eyes twice. "Of course, you do..." Grinch then walked him through the requirements. Clark said he had his affairs in order and Grinch had him insert his System Link toggle into a designated receiver. "Employed four months and a good record. Required Imbued Level reached. Great..." Grinch eyed him closely, sadness in his eyes, perhaps for the lamentable necessity of needing to do his job instead of standing around. A sigh and a keyboard button later Grinch made a forced smile. "Congratulations... you are now part of the Anti-Monster Defense League. Or AMDL for short... whatever."
Although Grinch's smile was fake, his own was genuine as a cooling rain. Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for!
"Smile wider!" A flash. Grinch took his picture.
Unprepared for someone taking his picture -- as no one had ever done it before -- the flash caught him off guard. It resulted in his smile showing as lopsided. Like he was in mid-speech with someone off to his side before he smiled. No matter. A picture was a formality.
"Keep your identification card on you at all times. Find a Lynard, stick it in there. Got it?" Grinch handed him a small rectangular card.
"A lanyard?" he asked.
Again sighing, Grinch scuffled underneath his side of the counter. He tossed to him a small necklace made of synthetic fabrics bearing the Augustford brand and the words 'Anti-Monster Defense League' emblazoned boldly on its body. "See the little clear, pleastic-y pouch on the front? Stick your ID in that then stick the necklace over your neck. Yeah, there you go. Good Waster! Smart Waster!"
Clark did as Grinch told him. Which was much better than what he wanted to do to the clerk because of his hostile attitude. "Anything else?" Clark let some aggression into his voice. If he didn't, this clerk would think he was a doormat to walk over.
Grinch held his gaze. "Nah. You'll get a System notification when your first day is scheduled. For now, hand back."
"Wonderful. Thank you, sir."
[Accomplishment Unlocked: 'The Anti-Monster League:' A true man fights. That is all.]
Clark left the recruiting center. He took a deep intake of air and released, paying no heed to the Accomplishment. The air was heavy with cookery scents which made saliva drip from his mouth. "Heck yeah, beck yeah! That felt good!"
"I am happy for you. I know you've had your heart set on this for a good while. It must've been hard to wait that extra month after you already had the minimum time to join, so I am pleased there weren't any further delays." SIMP told him.
"I'm happy too. And it was hard. But what could I do? Throw a fit, maybe, but what would that do if there weren't any spaces free?"
"Fair, Clark. Though in this case, I would say throwing a fit would be fine, assuming that Grinch fellow had turned you away without specifying why."
"Whoa! You're agreeing with how I throw my weight around as your Champion?! Is that legal?!" Clark laughed and SIMP shared in his humor.
Then, another System notification: [Anti-Monster Defense League Specialty Department Joined: One-of-three slots remaining].
Clark went to a nearby food cart selling chicken teriyakis. He ordered four skewers and a drink, then paid with his Culinary Credits.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
"So, what do you think my final Specialty Department should be?" he asked SIMP between mouthfuls.
"Whatever you want it to be. Though I am sure you would like it to be whatever department offers the most pay, I assume?" SIMP replied.
"I guess so. I don't know what my land grand bill will be next month... probably three-hundred Standard Credits if I had to wager. Do you think it will continue to go up?"
"To a point. It would depend on the size of your grand and how much your earnings amount to per year. I think you should go with whatever department will bring you the widest set of skills or something which is more relevant than the next department is to corporate's wider retail strategy. Qoon will provide a pay bump eventually, so between that and your core work as a Climber, your income should, soon, be able to easily take care of whatever your land grant amounts to, leaving you free to take whatever third specialty."
Clark considered his paths. What department would he want to dedicate himself to? He already knew he hated the mainstream departments. Produce sucked, as did anything to do with Center Store as it was just stocking the shelves. Meat and seafood made him too smelly for him to care. And the Front End? He hated bagging with a passion. Ditto on the 'helping customers all day at the service lane.' He doubted he was going to pick the Front End, then... which meant, how many more departments were there?
His answer was 'many.' There were many departments left for him to consider. Home, outdoors, carts, Curbside and Instant Fulfillment...
He wanted to talk out the pros and cons of every department with SIMP. But SIMP was busy with cracking the dwarven pod -- which they swore they were close to doing! -- and Class up and coming, he didn't have such a luxury.
It was the final class of the evening when he went in later that night. Because it was the last class everyone was either in a pleasant mood or a sour.
Pleasant, because it was the final session in a terribly long section. Sour because alongside the final course also came the final test. A test which would determine whether or not they would pass. One test, the whole grade. Needless to say, everyone who weren't on the elite end of the class were on edge.
"Order, order!" Mrs. Bull shouted. "I know it is the last course, but that only means we have much to do!"
The class settled down. Mrs. Bull handed out their tests. When he received his, Clark felt the exam was thicker than he remembered the instructor saying it would be... "You may start on my whistle." A terse whistle then sounded and with it a clutter of pages flew open as students took pencil to page, some answering the first question down through while others read the whole test over.
Of the two approaches, Clark took the former and answered questions as they appeared on the test without first having read through the whole exam. Although there had been optional study sessions throughout the course, he hadn't the time to attend with his work and Champion obligations. Thus, he did not believe reading the test through would've been anything but a waste of time.
Question number One: 'Read the following passage. Then describe what is happening in clear language.'
The passage in question was only a short paragraph: "Johnathon and Mark are out for a joyride. While driving, they pick up some friends and go see a movie. After the movie, one of their friends say that the film, 'blew chunks.' What happened?"
Easy! Clark thought... "Friends went out to see a movie. One of them did not like the movie, hence the reference to 'chunks,' like vomit. So bad, that the friend puked. This is an instance of slang..." and on he wrote.
He next described what a 'joyride' meant. As well as the specifics of 'blowing chunks.'
The whole exam was much the same. Lots of questions asking for an exact breakdown, other questions just asking him to reply to one part of a passage with a unique response.
Question number twenty-nine: "In the following passage, identify and define all six vocabulary words from class."
Question number thirty-four: "In the passage below, provide an original re-write which eliminates unnecessary language."
And on the exam went. Fifty questions in total.
"There, done!" Clark finished writing the final response and put down his pencil.
For a moment, he stared at the booklet. "All done. I've done it." He couldn't believe it. He had finished his first final. Moreover, he thought he had done well on it, too!
Pencil down, he picked up his booklet and handed it into the teacher. "I've done them all. Here is the booklet, ma'am. Thank you for the class."
Mrs. Bull smiled. "My pleasure, Clark. It was nice to have you in class. You've made great improvements in your reading and writing abilities. Take care."
He nodded, smiled, and went out the door.
Free, he composed a message to Hera and Theo: "Done with my exam. Free?"
He expected them to say 'no, they weren't free.' To his surprise, moments later, each said they were, and so, they agreed to meet at a burger place. Normally, Clark wouldn't have wanted to eat out so often, but considering his exam, he thought a small splurge was fine. By now, Clark had a good handle on his financials. Eating out to celebrate wouldn't break the bank.
"Done already?" Hera said. "That was shorter than I thought. You were only there for... what, not even a couple of hours?"
"Just about two hours, yeah. Do you think I didn't spend long enough on each question?" The notion of him not having done as well as he thought unnerved him. Maybe he tanked the exam? Crap...
"I dunno. I never put much stock on exams," Theo joined in, as he put his menu down and looked to him. "I've liked more field exam stuff. Not the book learning."
Hera rolled her eyes. "Of course you would like 'field exercises.' Little thief."
"Thief?" Clark was surprised. Theo didn't seem like the stealing type, though he did live his life in the adjacent lane.
"I'm not a thief! I've only been training with my guy--"
"Who specializes in thieving!" Hera was insistent on this point. "Which means you are learning how to steal! Which is a sin!"
"It's only a 'sin,' Hera, when I actually commit theft! Or is 'action' something irrelevant in your theology?"
The two went on concerning theological dogma for some time. Growing bored of their back-and-forth, Clark had to interrupt and re-set the course. By now, their food had come, and he was growing tired of it growing cold. "Theo, your actions are your own. I trust you won't be doing anything to endanger yourself or the group."
"Darn straight, buddy!" Theo replied, glaring at Hera. "Besides, these skills are things I need to learn if I want to find my clan's sigil stones. Not like they are going to be among the law-abiding!"
"And that is fine!" Hera almost yelled. "For you are only taking back what once belonged to you. However, these skills, these lawless skills, are immoral by nature. The very act of knowing them makes it more likely for you to use the skills, which would be a sin!"
"We both understand, Hera. Now, please!"
Hera clasped her hands together then broke off. "Very well. I am hungry, anyway."
The group eat their meal in silence. Frankly, he didn't mind the quiet. He knew, though, it was only silent because the group was fractured.
"Theo. Will the skills you're learning be useful in the battling of monsters?"
"You bet they will be!" Theo's dish, a plate of chili fries, was on his mouth as much as it was inside of him. "I'm going to be able to sneak up on even the deadliest creature and merc them in its throat -- just wait!"
"Very good. That will be useful for us, you know. Hera," he directed his attention elsewhere. "How has your day gone?"
"Better than I thought. My conversations with historical and religious groups have picked up. Today was a hard meeting with an organization representing a group which does both -- historical conservation but with a religious bent in mind. They were against joining my church's movement -- at first. They did not like the violent implications of how my church uncovered Augustford's misdeeds. Now, they have softened." Hera's eating was much calmer, cleaner, and frankly, more dignified than Theo's eating, and his own, for that matter. But she also got the steak, which was cleaner by definition.
"Why have they softened?"
"Not as much violence lately. When the wall behind that corporate altar shattered, they feared more destructive acts, and more vigilantism. Because such violence hasn't yet come to pass, they have decided we are not psychopaths after all. This is a good thing to keep in mind, Clark. That alliances are not formed on the basis of mindless violence."
Clark thought over all his work mates told him. Despite their friction, he liked spending time with them and grinned. He took a big bite of his burger and was happy.
Did A Co-Worker Ever Take a SUPER Long Time Off?
