Chapter 230: Big Boss, Huge Asshole
Josh was about to et the Boss. How stressful was that?! Not at all since it would obviously be a monkey just like the others. Still, he was curious if this one would be as flashy.
The leader brought him all the way to another Floor with the path opening automatically for him. The wall literally gave way as it opened to reveal a staircase. This AI system was very nice! But, it made no sense.
With such technology, why were they forcing monkeys to type all day?! It would be so much easier to ask the AI. But, Josh kept his doubts to himself as they reached a private office. The first thing josh noticed upon entering was the golden banana statues. Yes, gold bananas!
The place seed like a vast museum for the wealthy and insane. It was also the complete opposite of their work floor. Instead of the shitty lighting, there was a soft warm glow. Instead of the harsh ticking of the clock, there was soft jazz music playing in the background.
Josh could see a massive desk with a monkey sitting behind it in a comfy brown leather chair, unlike the shitty ones they had. The monkey wore a huge gold banana necklace, had glasses, and had colorful golden hair.
"Oh? Is he the one?" He judged Josh with an arrogant look.
"Yes, Sir!" The leader replied politely.
"Good. You can wait by the door." A few seconds later, it was just the two of them in the room.
"You know, people used to say that monkeys are not able to write anything good. But then I ca around and created a revolutionary writing technique that crushed all these misconceptions." He bragged before continuing.
"Now, I must say I am very impressed by your luck! You have done well this ti. The Literary Association loved it! Now, they want even more of it! Hehe. How great is that?!"
"Very great." Josh played along.
"Tomorrow, I will be going over there to accept my literary prize for it. As for you, since I'm in a good mood, you shall be rewarded with banana flavor for your als from now on."
"Sir, there is sothing I'm wondering about." Josh cautiously asked.
"Yes?"
"Will they be giving a prize too for doing the writing?" He made it sound as innocent as possible, not calling the man a cheat directly.
"How dare you! You lowly monkey! Don't get cocky, that was luck! I'm the one that ca up with the writing technique! That's it, no banana flavor for you, you blew it! Now, get out of my sight!" the boss shouted angrily.
Josh was almost tempted to try and murder him right here and now but he wasn't sure what that would provoke so he abstained. The leader slowly escorted him back to his cubicle, reminding him to keep his own position in mind.
Josh could only sigh. This Boss was evidently insane and an idiot, one with so power. But, Josh knew that there was an entity out there that he had to respect: the Literary Organization.
At tis, he wondered if straight up quitting the job would clear the mission. But he also thought that getting one good manuscript to the Literary Organization would do the trick. The only issue was that the Boss would be there to claim credit for his work.
Then there were his two minions: the supervisor and the leader. He would have to watch out not to arouse their suspicions. That's how Josh secretly worked on the sequel for his manuscript while conversing with the old man.
This little hole in the cubicle wall soon beca what the old man called his source of joy. He loved sharing, it made him feel less like a machine and more like a monkey. It made him rember the good old days.
They talked about this place, about life itself, and even about their favorite food. The old man sotis bragged about that one ti he tasted a real banana! But, as ti passed the old monkey began coughing.
Every ti, he would reassure Josh that everything was fine, but he was obviously getting old. Then one day, the supervisor ca while screaming: "Routine cubicle inspection!" But, there was nothing routinely about it.
He had been searching for an excuse to fire the old man. The older he got and the higher the possible legal consequences. What if he died from overwork? He wasn't as resilient as the youngsters.
They had tried getting rid of him on account of incompetence but when the only requirent was typing nonsense fast, even a half-dead old man could do it.
The supervisor soon found the hole and then ca termination. Later on, Josh learned that managent had threatened to fire both of them because of it. The old man had confessed and taken all of the bla. He had been worried about Josh...
This was unfair, so damn unfair! Josh had been the one that had made the hole. He knew it was all just a simulation, but it still left him feeling twisted in anger. But at that point, he already knew how to end it all.
He already had the second volu of the Tower Climb series. The only problem was actually getting it to his target, the Literary Association. He also had to explain and prove the intellectual property theft happening.
With the old man leaving, Josh reduced his CPM to the very minimum that wouldn't get him fired. One had to know that he had gone from the fastest on the entire Floor to the slowest. This naturally didn't go unnoticed as the leader soon appeared.
"I don't know what you are playing, but if this is a protest it's not the way to do it. Look I know you liked the old man, but he's already gone. Get over it. You losing your job won't accomplish anything." He sternly warned.
"Leader, that's not it. The tone of his voice helped to put in the zone. Whenever I'm in that state I can write extrely fast. It's just so sudden that it's really hard. I should be able to recover but it may take a long ti." Josh deplored.
The leader hadn't expected this at all. It sounded strange, but it was also true that Josh's speed was pretty damn frightening. It wasn't that far stretched to believe, so he nodded and left.
The next day there was a recorder on Josh's desk. Step one done….
Creator's Thought
The spirit of self-sacrifice is extrely noble...but also extrely dangerous. Giving leverage to soone over one's own life is unacceptable. Blackmailers tend to be morally corrupt and will screw you over. Had the old man put the bla on it would have turned out better. I was the 'lucky' typewriting genius.
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