"Gar!.. Edgar!!... EDGARR!!"
KNOCK!! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!!
"EDGAR!! You bastard, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!"
Ughh, damn those sheep bastards... Ugh, so loud. My skull felt like it was being cleaved in two. What time was it? Did I forget to give Brett his pocket money again? Bleary-eyed and half-dead from mental exhaustion, I dragged myself from the cramped mattress, crawling across the cold floor toward the rattling doorknob.
"EDGARR!! OPEN THIS DO—"
I yanked the door open. Fuck, who is this guy again? I stared blankly as strings of furious saliva scattered all over the doorframe just from him screaming my name. Seriously, where was the basic manners we all supposedly learned back in school?
"Yeah, yeah. What is it?" I rasped, rubbing my eyes. "Can you see what time it is? Everyone is still asleep. I might get a noise complaint from the neighbors, you see?"
"FUCK ME, WHAT FUCKING NEIGHBOURS?!" He roared, his chest heaving. "Did you completely forget my assignment at 5:45 a.m. yesterday?!"
Shit. Now his spit was scattering across my face too, not just the door. How utterly barbaric.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered, gripping the doorknob to slam it back in his face. But the exact moment I started to pull the door shut, a brutal, lightning-fast memory flash shot through my brain.
HOLY SHITT!!
He was Tayley.
My beloved Tayley.
That fucking TAYLEYYY!!
"I'm sorry, there was a... slight problem last night. Just wait a second," I blurted out. Before he could scream again, I slammed the heavy door hard in his face.
I spun around and sprinted into the bathroom. I grabbed the spare toothbrush, frantically scrubbing my teeth, before scooping freezing water into both hands to wash my face. Fuck the soap. There were plenty of ancient humans back in the day who lived their entire lives without knowing what soap was, and they still ended up alive, kicking, and thriving with wives and kids.
I burst out of the bathroom and scanned the floor for yesterday's discarded clothes and trousers. Yeah, I slept completely naked. So what? Are you worried about me showing off my gracious PP to Tayley? Mind your own business, bitch. Who the fuck cares about being naked at a time like this? There is no ancien—
"FUCK, EDGAR! Come out right now or I'll make sure you're dead by this morning!"
Whoa, whoa. Hang in there, buddy. I didn't even get a chance to finish my internal sentence. Matches shouting with a roar that didn't lose out to Tayley's, I yelled back:
"DONE IT, BITCH! COMING OUT!!"
I put on the white shirt and black trousers and yanked the door open, facing a visibly trembling Tayley.
"Do you even know what time it is?" he hissed, his face a terrifying shade of red.
"Ughh... six?" I offered weakly.
"SIX? IT IS SIX-FUCKING-THIRTY, YOU FUCKER! I've been shouting and knocking out here for almost an hour! Now we don't have time. We need to hurry to the Captain's room right this instant, or else the rest of the employees will be looking at our corpses by midday!"
His face was panicked, completely devoid of its usual smugness.
"O-ok, let's go now. Lead the way," I urged, stepping out into the corridor. But the moment I pulled the heavy metal door to close it, he let out another ear-splitting screech.
"WEAR YOUR FUCKING SHOES, GODDAMNIT!!"
"Ahh, fuck! Wait a sec! I'll be back in a flash!"
What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I keep forgetting? Fuck! I dove back into the room, jammed my bare feet into the polished black leather shoes, and bolted back out.
From that moment on, we were running at absolute top speed. The one thing I hadn't realized from my unconscious transport yesterday was just how absurdly far the dormitory was from the Captain's office. There were so many twists, sharp turns, and identical concrete hallways. If I calculated it based on sheer distance, it was easily no less than two kilometers.
And please, don't ask me exactly how I measured the distance. It was pure feeling. FEELINGS, you bitch!
By the time we sprinted down the final hallway, my fresh executive shirt was completely soaked through with sweat, clinging to my back. I desperately hoped I didn't smell too foul, considering I literally hadn't taken a proper bath in two days. Please, armpit God, let me have your blessing today.
We finally skidded to a halt in front of a massive door embossed with bold, capitalized letters: CAPTAIN'S ROOM. The digital clock on the wall read 07:28 a.m. Well, I guess that was my absolute best. Waking up, brushing my teeth, and running a two-kilometer labyrinth had taken exactly twenty-eight minutes. Even if the legendary Usain Bolt saw this, he would be incredibly proud of me. Kehh.
Tayley stepped forward, sweating buckets. With a visibly trembling hand, he knocked on the reinforced plate and wheezed into the intercom.
Knock! Knock!
"Captain... Tayley here with Mr. Edgar. May I come in?"
"Come inside, you two," a voice crackled back. At a single glance from the tone, you could tell he was well past fifty, his voice carrying the heavy, raspy weight of old age. What was an old man doing here as a Captain anyway? He should be planning his retirement.
Shshsss...
The hydraulic door made a heavy, pressurized hiss as it slid open. The moment the threshold cleared, the full posture and face of the Captain came into view.
Nailed it. My guess was completely right. With a head of pure white hair paired with deep, weathered wrinkles etched all across his face, anyone could easily tell he was long past his prime. Huhu, I knew it. I really do have a golden talent for betting. Should I place a bet tonight? I could feel it in my bones—today was my lucky day. Huhu...
But my internal celebration died the moment I looked lower. To my absolute horror, his muscles were incredibly firm and packed tight, looking exactly like a legendary Navy SEAL from the old-school USA military records. Holy crap. I could instantly tell that my fragile body wouldn't even endure taking a single hit from that grandpa.
"Welcome to my room," the old man said, his eyes locking onto us like a hawk tracking prey. "And did you happen to forget what I asked of you yesterday, Tayley? What time do you think it is right now?"
"I don't... I mean, I know, Sir," Tayley stammered.
"What time were you supposed to report here?"
"It was seven, Sir."
"And?"
"I apologize, Sir."
"You fucked up my thirty minutes," the Captain said slowly. He spoke so quietly, so softly, that the words almost didn't feel real.
"Pardon?" Tayley whispered.
"YOU. FUCKED. UP. MY. TIME."
A horrifying, predatory glare snapped into the old man's eyes, boring straight into both of us. The air in the room instantly plummeted.
"Now you pick," the Captain continued, raising two thick, calloused fingers. He clearly insisted on us choosing between the options. "Run this entire building complex for 30 laps, or I leave your corpses to the scientists in the research facility next door."
"We pick the first one, Sir!" Tayley squeaked out instantly.
"Now."
"Pardon?" Tayley blinked.
The fuck, Tayley! Why are you asking that sacred word again?! He means us to run right now, you bastard!
"NOW YOU RUN THIS INSTANT, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!" The old man's roar literally shook the dust from the ceiling.
With that terrifying shout echoing behind us, we scrambled out of the room, bursting through the doorway and sprinting down the concrete hallway toward the outer perimeter. And so, the countdown began.
Thirty laps. On my own two feet. This was a building complex so massive that people normally took an automated transport shuttle just to move to the adjacent sector. JUST MY LUCK.
I took back every single word I said earlier. This wasn't my lucky day. IT WAS MY FUCKED-UP DAY!!!
By the time both of us finally dragged our dying bodies across the finish line of the thirtieth lap, the digital clock read 12:30 p.m. It was officially time for the facility employees to take their midday break.
Limping and gasping for air, we dragged ourselves back to the Captain's room. But to add a final layer to my suffering... the old man wasn't even there.
"Hey, Tayley..." I wheezed, collapsing against the concrete wall. "I might actually die the moment I close my eyes. Please carry my corpse out of here and give me a fine, dignified funeral."
"Hey... I am not in the mood to respond to your jokes right now," Tayley panted, slumped on the floor beside me. "I'm tired as hell. I'm a support staff member, not a frontliner like you."
"What did you just say? A frontliner?" I squinted at him through the sweat stinging my eyes. "Is this department a cleaning crew? I mean, the kind that works with a mop and a broom, right?"
"Hehh... I guess you really know absolutely nothing, huh?" Tayley let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle. "You'll learn it all by yourself in the near future. Please, ask me no more. I don't have a single ounce of strength left to answer your simple questions, let alone explain the lore of this place to you."
"Huuftt. Well, with our sweat completely soaking through our shirts, we're practically drowning. Why don't we go back to the dormitory and clean ourselves up? The captain shouldn't be back from his break for at least another thirty minutes anyway."
"Heh. You go by yourself," Tayley muttered, closing his eyes. "If you leave, I'll be the one carrying your corpse to the scientists myself."
"For fuck's sake... just how long do we have to wait here? I'm so fucking thirsty."
As we waited outside the heavy door, a group of imposing figures began walking down the corridor, surrounding the Captain. They were eating vigorously from rations and talking loudly.
"Hey, Capt," joked a man with an absolutely monstrous build, easily towering around three meters tall. "Aren't you being a bit too harsh on the new recruit? Why not give the kid a chance to adapt first?"
"No can do. The recruit needs to learn the hierarchy first, so that he behaves himself in the near future," replied a woman walking beside him. Shockingly, she was built around the exact same giant, three-meter height as the first guy.
The Captain walked calmly in the center. "This is my way—both to teach him the vital importance of order and to establish the chain of command at the same time."
"Hohoho, so wise of you, Captain! Why don't you just let me handle him?" sneered a terrifying-looking man whose face was completely covered in jagged scars. He actually ran his tongue along the flat edge of a gleaming dagger while speaking. "I guarantee you, after a few sessions with me, he will become an incredibly submissive and strong little cadet."
"Heh, impossible," interrupted a small girl with her hair tied up in two traditional bongs, looking like a descendant of an ancient Chinese clan. "You might as well just ask him to commit suicide right now. There isn't a single soul in this department who doesn't know you kill every single recruit who fails to meet your psychotic standards."
"Enough," the Captain commanded, his voice cutting through their banter like a knife. "Just eat your meals. After this, report directly to my office. I want to assign each of you the new orders handed down from above."
"Copy that, Sir!" All five individuals answered sharply, their voices snapping in unison.
Meanwhile, our best boy Edgar was still standing against the wall, sweat dripping from every inch of his body. He desperately wanted to lay his profoundly exhausted frame down on the cool floor, but Tayley kept kicking his leg to deny him, refusing to let him even sit down in the hallway.
After about thirty agonizing minutes of waiting, the Captain finally approached the door. But he wasn't alone. He was flanked by the five distinct figures, each of them radiating a heavy, unique, and terrifying aura.
The Captain stopped in front of us, his gaze cold. "Now. Did you finish your task?"