The courtyard of Fort Blackstone was currently hosting a thermal event that defied meteorological laws.
To Mordecai's left, a spectral lawyer was shivering in a neon-blue orgasm of bureaucracy, clutching a notepad as if it were a holy scripture. To his right, a column of black and crimson fire roared into the sky, rewriting the personality of a Tsundere princess into something... far more efficient.
And then, the universe decided to remind Mordecai that he was still trapped in a badly written fantasy novel.
CRASH.
The heavy iron gates of the Fort—which Mordecai had acquired legally only ten minutes ago—were blasted open. Smoke billowed, debris flew, and a fanfare of trumpets (source unknown, likely magical speakers) blared a triumphant, heroic theme song.
Through the dust emerged the classic cocky adventurers you usually see dying in two episodes of an average fantasy anime.
Cassandra and Pyroetta (We're gonna still call her like that because it's cute) narrowed their eyes in annoyance.
Mordecai, on the other hand, sighed, hoping to end this "time loss" very fast.
He used [REVEAL MAGIC] to see who the enemies were, and an advertising banner appeared in front of him.
"The Azure Blades of Destiny, Devoted Nick and Lucy's most trusted group. Call us now to have a special discount on Dungeon Clears."
*facepalm* 'This is worse than expected.'
There were seven of them. The perfect number for a balanced raid party, and the perfect number to annoy a (fake) Necromancer who just wanted to organize his inventory.
Sir Aric (The Hero): Blonde, shiny armor, sword too big for his body.
Ignis (The Grand Wizard): Robes full of stars, beard long enough to trip over.
Theodea (The Healer): Useless, praying, wearing white robes that would get dirty instantly.
Dagger (The Rogue): Edgy, crouching, licking a knife (unsanitary).
Grog (The Tank): Massive shield, zero IQ.
Bash (The Off-Tank): Hammer, slightly more IQ than Grog.
Lute (The Bard): Playing a lute while standing in the back, doing absolutely nothing.
"STOP RIGHT THERE, VILE DENIZENS OF DARKNESS!" Sir Aric bellowed, pointing his sword at Mordecai. "We have tracked the source of evil to this very spot! Your reign of terror ends before it even begins!"
"Shall I incinerate them, My Lord?" Pyroetta asked, her voice filled by a yandere instinct to protect her beloved one.
"No. Stay. Wasting mana on these useless beings is inefficient." He replied.
Cassandra only adjusted her glasses, realizing that her Liege would've taken care of the situation alone.
Mordecai sat on his makeshift throne of stone debris, resting his chin on his hand. He didn't look terrified. He looked like a shift manager whose break had been interrupted by a customer complaint.
"My reign of terror began ten minutes ago," Mordecai noted dryly. "I haven't even had time to terrorize anyone yet. Technically, you are the ones breaking and entering."
"Silence, monster!" The Healer, Theodea, stepped forward. "We can sense the dark mana! We are here to cleanse this land!"
"And loot the treasury!" Dagger the Rogue added, ruining the mood instantly.
"Ignore him!" Sir Aric shouted, trying to regain the narrative flow. "Listen, villain! We will not allow you to advance your evil plot! We know how you villains work. You will monologue, summon minions, and then slowly ramp up your power. But we are smarter! We have read the strategy guides!"
He turned to the Grand Wizard. "IGNIS! NOW! USE THE ULTIMATE MOVE! SKIP THE PHASE 1 FIGHT!"
Mordecai raised an eyebrow. 'Oh? That is actually... clever. Someone gave them meta-advice. Usually, the heroes wait until they are nearly dead to use their strongest move. Using it immediately is logically sound.'
Ignis, the elderly wizard, stepped forward. His eyes glowed white. He began to float. The sky above the Fort darkened, swirling with cosmic energy. A spotlight from the heavens illuminated him. "Oh, Spirits of the Celestial Void... gather the tears of the dying stars... I call upon the ancient pact of the Ninth Circle..."
The mana pressure was immense. The air crackled. It was the perfect anime setup. The music swelled. This spell was clearly designed to wipe out the entire castle in one hit.
Of course , everyone around kept looking at him without doing anything, because casting random spells is a totally free action.
"Prepare to die!" Ignis screamed, his mouth opening wide to enunciate the final, devastating syllable of a skill named [METEOR SWARM OF THE GODS].
Mordecai sighed. He checked his internal clock. "Cast time: 15 seconds. Vocal component: Mandatory. Mouth status: Gaping wide open. Target: Stationary." He shook his head. "It's just too easy. It's bad design."
He didn't summon a shield. He didn't prepare a counter-spell. He didn't even stand up. He simply pointed his index finger. A small, jagged, brownish bolt of mana coalesced at the tip. It didn't look magical. It looked... infected. It looked like a rusty nail given velocity.
"Skill: Tetanus Bolt].
Thwip.
The sound was pathetic. Like a wet paper towel hitting a bathroom wall. The bolt flew across the courtyard, ignoring Ignis's flashy, multi-layered magical shields because it was technically classified as a "Biological Hazard" and not a "Magic Attack." It struck the Grand Wizard directly in his uvula.
CLACK.
The sound of a jaw snapping shut echoed through the courtyard like a gunshot. Ignis's chant cut off instantly. "[METEOR SWAR—]... Mmmph?!"
The magical light around him fizzled and died like a blown fuse. The spotlight vanished. Gravity remembered he existed, and he dropped to the ground with a thud. Ignis clawed at his face, eyes bulging in panic. He tried to scream. He tried to finish the incantation. But his jaw was fused shut, locked tight as if welded by industrial steel.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: CRITICAL HIT!]
[TARGET: GRAND WIZARD IGNIS.]
[EFFECT APPLIED: 'LOCKJAW' (LEVEL 5).]
[DURATION: 30 MINUTES.]
[DEBUFF: SILENCE (MANDATORY). UNABLE TO CAST SPELLS WITH VOCAL COMPONENTS. SWALLOWING DIFFICULTY.]
Ignis fell to his knees, his hands clawing at his throat as he made muffled, panicked noises: "Mmmph! Mmmmngh!" The magical light that had surrounded him flickered out like a blown fuse, leaving the courtyard in a sudden, ringing silence.
Mordecai lowered his hand, casually blowing imaginary smoke from his fingertip. He looked down at the Grand Wizard with a gaze of pure, condescending pity.
"Did you honestly think I was going to wait for the beat to drop just to let you finish?" Mordecai asked, his voice echoing through the stunned courtyard. "Talking is NOT a free action here, buddy. Read the patch notes: monologues are no longer exempt from the turn order."
A shiver of pure terror ran down Sir Aric's spine. Their most powerful caster had been neutralized by... a magical bacterial infection.
"Mmmph! Mmmmngh!" The wizard writhed on the ground, tears streaming down his face as the Tetanus bacteria (magically accelerated) caused his neck muscles to spasm uncontrollably.
"Ignis?!" Sir Aric screamed. "Why did you stop casting?! Say the words! He just scratched you!!!"
"He can't," Mordecai explained, blowing imaginary smoke from his finger. "As I said, talking is NOT a free action here, lil bro. You tried to skip the cutscene, but you forgot to patch your antivirus. That is Tetanus. It's not magic. It's a bacterial infection."
The adventurers stared in horror. Their strongest nuke had been neutralized by... lockjaw.
"This worlds has a great flaw: there are no vaccines against tetanus." Without realizing, his voice dropped an octave and his eyes started to glow of an intense purple.
He had activated the [EDGELORD RIZZ] by mistake, charming the healer, who had dropped her staff and started looking at Mordecai with heart-shaped pupils and ragged breath,
"You... you cheat!" Dagger the Rogue hissed. He saw that the Wizard was down and decided to switch targets.
He looked past Mordecai, his eyes landing on the column of fire that was just fading away. Standing there was Pyroas. She wore the outfit of a dark executive: a form-fitting dress of obsidian fabric with crimson trim that looked like flowing magma. Her hair was loose, a cascade of deep red. No more twintails. Just bangs. She didn't look angry. She looked efficient.
Dagger licked his lips. "Hey, baby. Forget the skeleton guy. Why don't you come with the winning team? I can show you my—"
Pyroas turned her head. She didn't scream "BAKA!" She didn't blush. She simply adjusted her glasses (which she had conjured purely for aesthetic professionalism, just for the moment) and opened a notebook made of black flame.
"Target identification: Unit 'Rogue'. Behavior: Unsolicited Sexual Harassment in a Workplace Environment. Value: Negative." Her voice was smooth, deep, and terrifyingly calm. She raised one hand, her fingers poised to snap. "You are speaking without a prior appointment," she stated. "The penalty is Instant Dismissal."
[SKILL ACTIVATED: ADMINISTRATIVE FLARE - INSTANT DISMISSAL]
SNAP.
There was no fireball. No travel time. No explosion. One second, Dagger was standing there, leering. The next second, a precise, cylindrical beam of white-hot plasma descended from the heavens directly onto his coordinates.
FOOM.
The sound was like a heavy book slamming shut in a quiet library. When the light cleared, there was no Dagger. There was no ash. There were no boots. There was just a perfectly circular, sterilized scorch mark on the cobblestones.
"TONY!" The Bard screamed.
"Murder!" Sir Aric yelled.
"OBJECTION!" Cassandra Lex floated forward, furiously scribbling on her spectral pad. "That was not murder! That was Sanitation! Furthermore, your Rogue violated Article 4 of the Harassment Policy! My client, Secretary Pyroas, was well within her rights to terminate his employment... and his life functions!"
"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN!?!?!?" Sir Aric shouted.
Cassandra's eyes glowed with manic glee. "Breaking and Entering! Property Damage! Noise Pollution! Attempted Casting of a Class-10 Spell without a Permit! I have enough evidence here to sue your great-grandchildren into debt slavery!"
Sir Aric looked at the writhing Wizard, the vaporized Rogue, and the screaming Banshee. "Enough!" he roared, raising his sword. "Tanks! Charge! Healer, buff us! We will brute force this!"
The two Tanks, Grog and Bash, roared and charged forward. The Bard started playing a fast-paced battle anthem. They were fast. They were strong. They were Level 50+.
The healer wasn't listening at all. She was looking at the most beautiful edgy thing she ever witnessed in her entire bad writing life.
Mordecai didn't flinch. He watched them come. "System," he thought. "Display Corporate Skill Tree."
[SKILL TREE: CORPORATE OVERLORD ACCESSED.]
"Let's see how they handle the dreaded 'Friday Afternoon Slump'," Mordecai muttered. He raised his hand, palm facing the charging heroes.
[Passive Skill: Corporate Lethargy Field].
The effect was instantaneous. The air in the courtyard didn't change color, but it changed density.
The vibrant battle aura turned into a shade of fluorescent-light grey. The adrenaline pumping through the adventurers' veins turned into molasses. It felt like 4:55 PM on a Friday. It felt like the moment after a heavy lunch when you realize you still have three hours of data entry to do and the air conditioning is broken.
Grog, the massive tank, slowed down. His roar of "FOR GLORY!" turned into a yawn. "Ugh..." Grog muttered, lowering his shield. It felt incredibly heavy. "Man... I'm really tired. Why are we running? Can't we just... raid them next week?"
"Yeah..." Bash agreed, stopping completely. He leaned on his hammer. "My back hurts. And I'm not really feeling the vibe right now. Is it overtime? Are we getting paid overtime for this?"
The Bard's song slowed down, turning from a heavy metal anthem into a slow, sad elevator tune. The Healer, now debuffed and without the [CHARMED] status, sat down on a rock, rubbing her temples. "I have a headache," she complained.
Sir Aric, the Hero, tried to fight it. "What are you doing?! Wake up! It's a debuff! Fight through it!" He raised his sword, preparing to shout his signature move. "[BRAVE SHOUT OF THE...]"
Mordecai snapped his fingers again.
[Skill: Executive Order]. [RULE: "NO SHOUTING OR VERBAL SKILL ACTIVATION WITHIN COMPANY GROUNDS."]
A red symbol—a crossed-out megaphone—appeared in the sky above the courtyard. Aric's mouth opened, but when he tried to scream, an invisible hand clamped over his throat. "[BRAVE SH—]... Glah?!"
He choked. Red numbers appeared over his head: [-100 HP] [SILENCED]. He grabbed his throat, eyes watering. "You..." he wheezed, his voice reduced to a whisper. "You cheat..."
"It's not cheating," Mordecai said, walking slowly down the steps. The Lethargy Field didn't affect him; in fact, he thrived in it. He stopped in front of the kneeling Hero. "It's Policy. You violated the noise ordinance. The penalty is silence."
He looked at the defeated group. The Wizard was rolling on the floor with lockjaw. The Rogue was dust. The Tanks were asleep on their feet. The Healer was taking a nap. The Hero was choking on his own words.
"Pathetic," Mordecai stated. "You came here with flash and noise, expecting the world to bend to your narrative. But you forgot one thing." He raised his hands, and the shadows around him coalesced into stacks of spectral paper. Thousands of forms. Tax returns. Liability waivers. Non-disclosure agreements.
[Skill: Paperwork Avalanche].
"Bury them," he commanded.
The papers surged forward like a white tsunami.
"NO!" Aric tried to slash at them, but his sword just got stuck in a thick binder labeled '2023 Audit Reports'.
The adventurers screamed—not in pain, but in boredom and confusion—as they were engulfed. The paper was heavy. It wrapped around their limbs, binding them with red tape. "Sign here!" the papers whispered in a thousand dry voices. "Initial here! Date this! You missed a field! Resubmit in triplicate!"
Within seconds, the "Azure Blades of Destiny" were buried under a mountain of bureaucracy. Only their heads stuck out, looking terrified and exhausted.
Mordecai stood over Sir Aric. The Hero looked up, defiant tears in his eyes. "You... you won't get away with this! We are free spirits! We will never serve you!"
Mordecai smiled. It was a cold, corporate smile. "Oh, Aric. That's the beautiful thing about the free market." He reached out, his hand glowing with golden chains.
[Skill: Hostile Takeover].
"I am acquiring your assets," Mordecai declared. "Your party is insolvent. I am initiating a restructuring."
A golden contract materialized in the air. "I offer you a choice. Option A: You remain buried here, and Larry the Skeleton uses you for spoon-polishing practice until you starve. Option B: You sign this contract."
"What... what is the contract?" Aric whispered, trembling.
"Unpaid Internship," Mordecai said. "You will clean the moat. The Wizard will act as a magical battery for the lights. The Healer will tend to the poison ivy garden. And the Bard... well, the Bard can play elevator music in the lobby."
Aric looked at the Lockjawed Wizard. He looked at the scorched spot where Dagger used to be. He looked at Pyroas, who was checking her watch impatiently. He slumped. "I... I sign."
[HOSTILE TAKEOVER SUCCESSFUL.]
[NEW ASSETS ACQUIRED: 6 INTERNS.] [MORALE: CRITICALLY LOW.] [PRODUCTIVITY: EXPECTED TO BE ADEQUATE.]
Mordecai turned around, his cape flourishing. "Pyroetta, get them uniforms. Something embarrassing. Cassandra, process their intake forms. Make sure they waive their rights to breaks."
"Yes, Boss!" Pyroas said, her eyes shining. "At once, my Liege! Oh, the clauses! The sub-clauses!" Cassandra moaned happily.
Mordecai walked back to his throne. "Finally," he thought. "Some peace and quiet."
But, as usual, the System had other plans. Just as the interns were being dragged away, a new notification pinged.
[WARNING: NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHING.]
[ENTITY: 'NIEL THE HIGH ELF' + 2 ELITE GUILDS.]
[NOTE: THE CRINGE IS ABOUT TO INCREASE EXPONENTIALLY.]
[VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: THE HIGHER REALMS ASKED FOR A BLONDE ELF WITH BIG TITS AND A NTR MOMENT]
Mordecai closed his eyes. "I hate this world," he whispered. But he was smiling. Because for the first time, he had the staff to handle it.
Then, the classic golden window appeared in front of him, this time with a new text.
[TRANSMISSION: INTERDIMENSIONAL FEEDBACK CHANNEL]
[SOURCE: THE HIGHER REALMS ENTERTAINMENT COMMITTEE]
[CLASSIFICATION: VIEWER RATINGS / SUGGESTIONS]
[NOTE: THESE IDIOTS DON'T KNOW HOW YOUR STORY WORKS, THEY JUST WATCH AND COMMENT]
GOD_OF_EDGE69: Bro, who wrote the Necromancer's moveset? It's broken. TETANUS? PAPERWORK? That's not fantasy, it's an HR nightmare. Please fix. Too OP. Also, the tsundere turning into a secretary gave me chills (not the good kind). 3/10 because there's not enough fanservice.
REAL_MILF_HUNTER_3000: OK but the healer with the heart eyes? When's the NTR scene we requested? We want to see the drama, the betrayal, the suffering! Instead this guy is holding job interviews with his enemies. Where's the TENSION? Where's the SEXY? The fire secretary is hot but she doesn't DO anything hot, she just snaps and vaporizes people. BORING.
LORE_MASTER_777: Interesting subversion of classic isekai tropes. The meta-narrative is well-handled, even if the tone oscillates between satire and seriousness. I appreciate the internal consistency of the 'Corporate Skill Tree', though I wonder: does Tetanus Bolt work on non-humans? Do skeletons have bacteria? And the Lethargy Field, is it mana-based or psychological? RATING: 8/10, following for worldbuilding.
HORNY_MAIN: WHERE. ARE. THE. WAIFUS. SEXY. SCENE. WE WANT. TO SEE. THE HEALER. IN. DISTRESS. AND THE BARD? THE BARD IS USELESS. KILL HIM BRUTALLY. OR MAKE HIM GAY WITH A RANDOM SUMMONED SKELETON. SOMETHING. RATING: 1/10 NOTHING TO JERK OFF TO. [RESPONSE FROM SYSTEM: "User 'HORNY_MAIN' has been temporarily banned from the Higher Realms for violation of Rule #4: 'No gooners in the chat.'"]
CHAOS_GREMLIN: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THE ROGUE LICKING THE KNIFE. HE DIES. POOF. BYE TONY. THE BARD PLAYING ELEVATOR MUSIC. I WANT TO SEE THE BARD DOING SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENTS IN THE FORT. 'PLEASE DO NOT RUN ON THE WALLS' AND THEN A DRAGON FALLS. 10/10 I WANT MORE
ANIME_TROPE_CRITIC: Wait wait wait. They used the FINAL MOVE IMMEDIATELY? That's breaking narrative convention! Brilliant! And then they get punished with a BACTERIAL INFECTION. This author understands game design better than 90% of light novelists. But the note about the 'blonde elf with big tits'? Too honest. Too meta. You broke my suspension of disbelief. But in a funny way. RATING: 7/10.
PLOT_ARMOR_DESTROYER: You killed Dagger in one hit. WITHOUT A FIGHT. WITHOUT DRAMA. Just 'FOOM' and done. This is the kind of expectation subversion I love. No respect for disposable characters. I want to see the next group. I want to see the 'exponential cringe'. I want to see Niel the High Elf cry because he forgot to fill out the form for permission to exist.
NTR_Lover69: FUCK YEAH! NTR! NTR IS LOVE, NTR IS LIFE! YEAHHHHH! FUCK!!! 10/10! NICK IS GONNA GET CUCKED! CAN'T WAIT!