Slumrat Rising

The Reward For "Good" Work



The Reward For "Good" Work

The Reward For "Good" Work

Another day, another sensation of phantom screaming. Maybe it was the air vents? He should take a look, no need to bother the building manager.

The little “bonus” jobs didn’t show on the System. They seemed to glide alongside the assigned missions, neither subtracting from them nor adding to them. You just got the cheery little *DING* and the Mission Complete! sign when you did your normal job. It always lifted his mood, if only for a moment. Nobody ever mentioned what might happen if you were to look in the crates. Truth suspected it might cause you to fail your mission. He didn’t like imagining the consequences of that.

Still, he was making steady progress to Level 2. The Nine Worm Path seethed through his muscles, winding around arteries and slinking along tendons. Truth could feel himself getting stronger, both physically and magically. The System agreed.

Cultivation Mission: Complete! Progress to Level 2- 30%

Reward: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Cultivation Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Speedy Completion: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Physical Development: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Cultivation Mission: Complete! Progress to Level 2- 40%

Reward: 20% Discount on Level 1 a Cultivation Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Speedy Completion: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Physical Development: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Cultivation Mission: Complete! Progress to Level 2- 50%

Reward: 20% Discount on Level 1 Cultivation Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Speedy Completion: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Bonus Reward For Physical Development: 20% Discount on a Level 1 Supplement.

Special Bonus For Reaching 50% Cultivation Progress in Less Than Eight Months- One Free Level 1 Supplement, One Physique Enhancing Tonic

The discounts didn’t expire, and they stacked up to 100% on any one supplement. Including the very expensive incense that a whole family could use to cultivate. The sibs were cruising through Level 0, and Harmony was going to be Level 1 well before his SAT. Which was coming up quickly. Truth wasn’t worried, Harmony was going to crush it. He had decided to skip college- just too late for him to get into a good school and keep up with the work. However, he did have aspirations for laboratory management, so he doubled down on the business studies electives.

The Physique enhancing tonic was a real revelation- he had never heard about a tonic that could improve someone’s physique. Cultivation yes, physique no. He summoned the system faerie for an explanation, and got a lousy one.

“I won’t tell you.”

“What?!”

“You are asking like a little bitch. I don’t want to work for a little bitch.”

“Are you… entirely clear on your job?” Truth asked.

“More than you. A mage commands, not pleads.” She hovered, glowering. Truth stared back for a long minute.

“FUCKING EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT THIS INSTANT YOU MISERABLE LITTLE SHIT OR I WILL SKIN YOU AND USE YOU FOR A CONDOM!” Truth bellowed in his mind.

The sprite smiled broadly, then did a really feeble pantomime of being terrified. Then got back to her usual office lady persona.

“You didn’t ask about them, they don’t come up in your regular line of work, and honestly? You don’t need it. Your physique is already excellent and still improving daily. For you, the tonic is a minor, incremental improvement. The biggest thing it will do for you is… maybe help with your looks, some? Like… three percent improvement?”

“There is a literal “Get Prettier” tonic in the Treasure Pavilion, and you didn’t see a reason to mention it?”

“No. If you are that worried about your looks, cultivate more. All our models are Level Three. Hint hint. Also, there is a reason it’s a reward for hitting a major milestone quickly- did you look at the price in the store?”

“Uh, no. How much?”

“Twenty-five thousand credits per dose.”

Truth just blinked.

“I’m sorry, you said-”

“Twenty-five thousand credits per dose. For a meh improvement to your physique, a debatable improvement to your looks, and a very attractive souvenir bottle. In your case, the bottle may be the best thing about it. Very nice cut glass. Might liven up this place, show a little swank.” The Faerie sounded like she was trying to be encouraging, which was hurtful.

“Can I just get the credits?”

“No. Absolutely no negotiation on mission rewards. At all, for anything, or anyone, ever.” She did a deadpan cutesy face, then acted like it never happened.

“What if I yelled?”

“Excellent idea! Try it.”

“GIVE ME THE CASH, IMP!”

“No. This is actual company policy and not something you can change by yelling.” She smiled sunnily. Truth sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples.

“How about giving the tonic to Harmony or one of the other siblings?”

“That would be fine, particularly for Harmony. It will really help set him up for his breakthrough. It is intended for a Level 1 person, but if he drinks it slowly over a few hours one evening, the benefits should be immense.” The sprite agreed.

“Thanks, I guess.” Truth sounded a bit lost.

“Get fucked.”

Truth paused. “You have barely fulfilled your duties. Pray I do not take you to task for your… tone.”

“Better. “Insolence” would have been a stronger word choice than “tone,” but it’s an improvement regardless. Keep working on the ominous voice.” The faerie hovered around for a moment in silence. “So… can I go, or do I have to keep pretending to be a humanoid with emotions you could name and recognize?”

Truth buried his face in his hands and willed the sprite away.

“Alright Truth, in your case this is purely a formality but- as a brand new Corporal, before we can send you out with a team, you have to pass a spelled arms certification. I would tell you what the test requires, but it seems kind of pointless.” Sergeant Murthey managed to look bored, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

The range had been set up with multiple stations he had to switch between, each with its own talisman or fetish. Truth looked at the station in front of him. It was an Army standard issue needler. Good enough penetration through armor, good range, low stopping power but an insane amount of ammunition and incredibly low cosmic energy usage. Functional, sort of, for a Level 0 or a brand new Level 1 without a spell. It only really shone when combined with… ah.

Truth looked over at Sargent Murthey. “Think I got it, Sarge.” The Sergeant just snorted, shook his head and waved Truth to his starting position. The range was cleared, the bell chimed, and Truth blurred into motion.

Load Shockwave!

Shockwave Loaded. Mission Critical Spell. No Charge.

The needler was up and he was forming the spell form before the target had even snapped into position. Two needles thudded into the mannequin’s skull. The needles now carried the Shockwave spell with them, turning what would have been a likely fatal injury into “pumpkin off an overpass, open casket was never an option.” The same thing happened for the next four targets, then the bell chimed again and it was off to the next station.

A Gwaii and Gwaii Firebolter CXM. Looked scary as hell, but, in Truth’s opinion, was actually less effective than the needler as the talisman tended to break down after a few dozen activations. You really had to pick your shots. Oh well.

Load Hunter’s Mark!

Hunter’s Mark Loaded. Mission Critical Spell. No Charge.

A tiny ball of cosmic rays spun into existence in front of Truth. The first target popped up, and the ball connected with it almost instantly, splashing out into a little web of energy over what the scorecard would refer to as “Center Mass.” The energy would last barely a second, but that was long enough. Truth triggered the talisman. The firebolt came screaming out like a poker from the Devil’s hearth and smashed directly into the Hunter’s Mark.

Truth faintly despised Hunter’s Mark, as it was notoriously fragile, short lived, and those who relied upon it generally had early deaths. However, there was a place for everything. In Truth’s opinion, turning a low-ammo weapon like the Firebolter into a target seeking munition was exactly that place.

Each new weapon had its own “best” spell to accompany it. Sometimes, given the circumstances, that spell might change. For example, in a hostage situation, when equipped with a fetish that shot meter-diameter circular saw blades spinning at ungodly speeds down range, the “Enlarge” spell had to be swapped on the fly for the “Shrink” spell.

Everyone could learn spells, if they could afford them, or were given them as part of your job. One spell per level. Hundreds of hours to master it, as it became almost synonymous with your identity. Jenny the Cleaner, who worked as a night shift janitor in the hospital. Tommy the Iceman, who kept the fish market cold year round.

Not if you worked for Starbrite. In Starbrite, you had the System. With the System, you had whatever spell you needed, right when you needed it. With the System, you weren’t just a human. You were a demigod.

Sergeant Murthey looked at the timer, and calmly flung his clipboard into the corner hard enough to break it into two pieces. “Alright Corporal Medici. You’re ready.”

“For what, Sarge? I heard something about jobs that paid better but we’re on salary. And I don’t know of anyone who gets to pick what job they want to do when they work for someone else.”

“All true, just not the complete story. You know the deal by now, right? Our PMC gets hired out by individual departments to do jobs too serious for mall cops but not so serious that they have to call in- '' Sergeant Murthey seemed about to say something, then his eyes went blank, came back into focus and he continued smoothly “the regular Army. So far, you have been doing a lot of “Standing Around'' duty. Well. This is more of the other stuff.

Murthey waved at a map of the world. “A department hires us to go somewhere. Usually somewhere not very nice. We do a job there. Convoy, asset recovery, whatever.”

Truth nodded along, like this made a lick of goddamn sense.

“Alright, so pretty much what I’ve been doing so far, but I would be traveling for the job. Not seeing the part where I pick and choose anything.”

“THAT part comes from the phrase “A department hires us.” As in, Starbrite PMC is an independent company from the main conglomerate. A wholly owned subsidiary, but, still, separate.

“Alright?”

“Boy, are you slow? We can turn down jobs! Our local branch of the PMC has quotas to meet, so we can’t be too picky, but, because you are now an NCO, there is a small list of jobs you can choose from. As long as you are meeting your quota, you and your team can pick what you like. The departments know it too. So they bid, offering credits out of their budget and, to keep expenses down, pay some of our expenses in cultivation materials.”

Murthey grinned. Truth grinned too.

“Don’t be afraid to say no to a job, by the way. Sometimes they get cute, try and scrape by without a big enough team or paying a danger premium. Don’t let them get away with it!”

“Yes Sarge!”

“Oh and Truth? A little bird tells me that your brother is about to take his SAT.”

“Yep. Harmony. I’m not too worried, he’s been working hard.”

“That’s great. But what you probably don’t know is that you can help him.”

“Huh? How? I was told there was no way to eeeh… nudge test results.”

“There ain’t. But if he passes, you can exchange your credits to help get him on the track he wants to be on. Say, for example, he wanted to go into finance. But he doesn't have an MBA, isn't a chartered accountant or anything like that. Starbrite will funnel him into doing the books at a shipping company or something. BUT. You could spend some credits, a TON of credits, and bump him into the lending track in one of the financing departments. A much better paying job, higher tier, better long term prospects.”

“Holly shit! Why aren’t people talking about this more?!”

“One, it’s really, REALLY expensive. Two, you can only do it in the period between when they pass the SAT and when they get assigned to a department. So, basically, the year they are doing their national service.” Murthey’s grin was predatory. “Here’s the job list.”

Truth looked it over.

“Security for a scry segment in Kofi. They want a five person detail, mostly working in the city for a couple of weeks. Sounds like a nice easy one to start with.”

A week later, at the Kofi International Business Hotel-

Truth held down the screaming actress as acidic spirits swept over the ruins of the hotel lobby. The production coordinator wasn’t dead yet, poor bastard, and his sobs of agony were hard to ignore. Truth saw a flicker, a shimmer in the light. How the fuck did they get so close?!”

“Camo! Camo! Pop dust then High-Ex and give ‘em hell!”


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