The Company’s Ultimate Challenge

Thus concluded the Alien Factory scenario. Eric gently pressed her abdomen, still lingering with the faint sting of the wound inflicted by the alien's piercing limb.

She then turned her gaze to her arm, unraveling the cloth bindings to inspect the incision where she had extracted the chip. Thanks to the healing salve, the laceration was already knitting closed.

The scenario was riddled with peril; the clues imparted by NPCs could not be wholly trusted. Otherwise, cautiously circumventing the "earliest fallen" laboratory and merely awaiting rescue would amount to a death sentence.

Day 14 in the wireless escape game unfolded smoothly.

After two days of recuperation from the standard scenarios, Eric resolved to brave the supernatural scenario anew. In truth, having endured the Golden Tomb trial, she found the supernatural challenges somewhat more bearable—at the very least, the high points rendered the pain worthwhile.

As the fifteenth day dawned, she embarked upon her fourth supernatural mission; excluding two grim train massacre scenarios, this marked her third voluntary foray into the supernatural realm.

Stepping into the luminous portal, she found herself within a conference room.

Seated around the table sat a circle of individuals, each adorned with a lanyard bearing a badge. Casting her eyes downward, Eric confirmed the presence of her own badge, inscribed unmistakably with her name.

"…Very well! As all employees are present, allow me to introduce the criteria for the Best Employee Award! The evaluation period spans seven days, today being day one. On the evening of the seventh day, a gala will be held to announce the honorees, followed by commendations. Secondly, each of you will receive a task card daily; simply complete the assignments listed therein. Thirdly, bear in mind that withdrawal from the assessment mid-course will result in immediate dismissal. We encourage you all to participate enthusiastically in our corporate team-building activities—remember to foster camaraderie!"

From the podium, the NPC's words flowed effortlessly before he gestured grandly. "Now, please return to your workstations. Your task cards for today await you on your desks." With that, he exited with a casual swagger, hands clasped behind his back.

"Are they all players?" Justin inquired.

"Seems so," Scott surveyed the room gravely. "Thirty people—quite the sizable gathering for a supernatural scenario."

No one denied their identity as players.

Eric shared the impression: this scenario promised a daunting mortality rate.

Thirty participants was no small number, even for a standard scenario.

Yesterday's Alien Factory stint had spawned twenty-seven survivors inside the safe house; presumably an original total of thirty, accounting for three who perished en route. Upon opening the safe house door, yet another fell. Eric no longer traveled with the group, so she was unsure of their ongoing fates, yet suspected a grim toll—the aliens' lethality was extraordinary! Had it not been for her firearm, she too might have perished in the prior mission.

Now this scenario counted the same thirty souls… and recalling the NPC's mention of task cards, Eric could only dub them death warrants.

Scott rose abruptly. "No time to waste—let's proceed to our desks. I'm curious to see what these task cards entail."

The group filed out in single file. Outside lay the corridor; bathrooms flanked its left, while down the right corridor's end sat the office—precisely thirty desks, one per player. The fastest among them pounced on a nearby black task card, and a glance sufficed to drain the color from her face; hastily she replaced it and moved on to examine another card.

"No need to search futher; you can't choose desks. Both the desks and the cards bear names," Justin informed. "Find your station."

Eric swiftly located her desk adjacent to a window and stole a glance outside at the bustling thoroughfare—it appeared unnervingly normal.

Upon the desk rested a name badge inscribed "Eric," alongside a computer, a file folder, and the black task card. She lifted the card, noting in white letters "Day One Evaluation Task," with her name, "Eric," neatly printed in the lower right corner. Flipping it over, crimson letters inscribed a terse message:

"Deliver documents to the 18th floor via elevator at 18:00."

The simple phrase sent a chill racing down Eric's spine.

Opening the folder revealed but a single blank A4 sheet—clearly the "documents" she was to carry.

Was the peril in the elevator? On the eighteenth floor? Or lurking in both?

"For God's sake, my task is to escort a client to the morgue at 23:00! Is this client even alive or already dead?!" one player exclaimed.

"My assignment: clean a client's bathroom at 16:00. The address is provided," another shared.

One by one, players read aloud their tasks, none sounding mundane. Well, some seemed rather ordinary—such as bathroom cleaning—but preconceptions colored the group's thoughts with tales of horror and the supernatural, hearts gripped by unease even before they began.

Catherine spoke coolly, "Mine is to brew coffee in the break room, then deliver it to the manager's office at 10:00."

Eric glanced at the wall clock; it was presently 9:40 AM.

Among the thirty players, Catherine's task bore the earliest scheduled time. All eyes instinctively turned toward her, silently agreeing to observe her attempt firsthand as a gauge of the scenario's difficulty and inherent dangers.

Among the players were seasoned veterans of the supernatural scenarios such as Justin, Scott, and Catherine, alongside novices like Eric, newly initiated into this eerie domain. The elders displayed composed expressions, while the newcomers were visibly apprehensive.

"I'll head to the break room first," Catherine declared, as she set off toward the refreshment area. Most of the players trailed silently behind her, Eric included. After a few steps, she glanced back to retrieve the folder she carried, intending to stow it safely within the supermarket at the earliest opportunity. The harrowing memories of the glass walkway mission, where she had to deliver chicken wings, remained vivid—a grim reminder that any task denoted "delivery" necessitated vigilant safeguarding of one's item.

Catherine's time was limited; within twenty minutes she had to push open the manager's office door with a cup of coffee in hand.

The players accompanied her only to the threshold of the break room, none daring to follow inside. Catherine, well aware, had left the door ajar deliberately to dispel their concerns.

Eric tiptoed to the rear of the group, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Catherine's every movement.

Inside the break room, Catherine located the coffee machine, opened the cabinet to retrieve coffee beans, then proceeded to cleanse the cups—a seamless sequence unmarred by incident, which only heightened Eric's anxious anticipation.

An inviting aroma of coffee slowly filled the air. Bearing a tray with the freshly brewed beverage, Catherine smiled faintly at the onlookers. "Please, let me pass; time is pressing."

The players promptly stepped aside, clearing a path for her exit.

The manager's office proved easy to locate. Catherine found the cubicle marked "Manager's Office" and lightly knocked thrice.

"Come in," came the voice within.

The clock read 9:57 a.m. Eric watched as Catherine entered, the door closing behind her to envelop the cubicle in complete silence—no movement, no sound.

"Why hasn't she come out yet? Has something happened?"

"It's too quiet…"

Eric glanced again at the clock; ten minutes had elapsed since Catherine entered. If it were merely a coffee delivery, she would have emerged long ago.

Just as worry settled in, the door swung open.

Catherine reemerged, lips pale. "My task is complete." She withdrew the task card, revealing a crimson fingerprint smudged upon its surface.

"What did you encounter?" Scott inquired.

"Just ordinary illusions—I nearly spilled the coffee," Catherine replied. "There, I'm the first to face the unknown. Now, prepare for your own tasks."

"Catherine, could you describe what you experienced during the mission? I'm uneasy!" a player pleaded, eyeing her name badge earnestly.

"Yes, Catherine, please share more!" others chimed in.

Her countenance darkened. "The supernatural scenario's tricks are but such illusions to confuse. What more can I say? If you lack courage or resolve, best resign yourselves to the standard scenarios."

Her curt retort silenced the pestering voices, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Eric found Catherine's words profoundly sensible: reliance on others offered no true security. One's own hard-won insights were the only genuine compass, for borrowed strategies could never truly substitute personal experience.

She inspected her workstation anew—beside the window, her badge rested atop the desk alongside a computer, a file folder, and a black task card. Opening the drawer, Eric discovered a wallet. The computer functioned and even granted Internet access. Exploring online, she marveled at the scenario's meticulous design, so immersive it deceived her into believing it a genuine reality. Gazing out the window, the NPCs below mirrored living beings with uncanny fidelity.

"I intend to scout ahead," Justin announced. "If anyone else has outward-bound missions, we can venture together."

Several players nodded assent; Eric considered briefly before murmuring, "Count me in."

Some players had missions linked to this very building and elected to investigate it first. Though Eric's task also pertained to this structure, she deemed preliminary reconnaissance prudent. With six tasks awaiting, she wondered if failure entailed death—all the more reason to unite while numbers remained strong. As a newcomer, she dared not venture forth alone; cooperation now was paramount.

About a dozen resolved to descend together.

"Stairs or elevator?" Justin queried.

"Both are notorious haunted spots. Does anyone's mission involve either?" he pressed.

"I'm to take the elevator at 18:00 to the eighteenth floor to deliver documents," Eric volunteered.

A female player's voice trembled, "I have to use the stairs at 18:00, to visit the fourth-floor cafeteria to place a dinner order."

Justin produced his own task card and requested that others do likewise, confirming times and locations thrice over—vigilant against any scheming player dragging others unwittingly into their own perils.

Fortunately, no deceit surfaced; Eric nor Janet had spoken falsehoods.

"At this hour, the elevator and stairs should both be secure. We number eleven. Since we've agreed to travel together, cooperation is key. We'll proceed in order of proximity—the thirteenth floor stands here, so let's take the elevator first to the eighteenth floor, then descend via stairs to inspect the fourth-floor cafeteria," Justin laid out the plan. No objections arose.