I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 75: [74] The Paperwork of the Damned

"Me too, Red," I said, my voice sounding flat and hollow against the transparent walls of the skyscrapers towering above us. "Me too."

I stood there for a long moment, my hand still white-knuckled around the hilt of the "Edge of Reality." It felt heavier than it had a few seconds ago, as if the very air of this floor was trying to weigh me down with the sheer boredom of my previous existence. I looked at Mr. Henderson. He was exactly as I remembered: the same charcoal-grey suit with a slight shine on the elbows, the same smell of expensive cologne masking stale sweat, and that same habit of tapping his gold watch with a manicured fingernail.

"Ren," Kaelen growled, stepping up beside me. He didn’t look at Henderson; he was watching the transparent people—the ’Civilians’ of this floor—who had stopped their mindless walking to stare at us. Their eyes weren’t eyes; they were glowing blue LED screens displaying scrolling numbers. "Who is this man? He has no weapon, no armor, and his mana signature is... non-existent. But the Tower says he’s the objective."

"He’s my old boss, Kaelen," I muttered, not taking my eyes off the clipboard. "He’s the guy who told me I wasn’t ’team player material’ right before he fired me for pointing out that his brother-in-law was embezzling from the pension fund."

"So he’s a thief?" Red asked, her eyes brightening as she adjusted her grip on her daggers. "I can handle thieves. Should I just take his head now, or do we have to listen to him talk first?"

"Ren!" Mr. Henderson barked, ignoring Red completely. He stepped forward, his polished loafers clicking sharply on the glass pavement. "I’m talking to you! This is the Q3 performance review, and you’re already behind on your deliverables. Look at this mess!" He gestured vaguely at my team, at Kaelen’s black sword, and at the four-headed dog currently sniffing a transparent trash can. "What are these... assets? They aren’t in the budget. We talked about streamlining, Ren. Efficiency. Synergy."

"Efficiency?" Tybalt whispered, peering out from behind Lysandra’s cape. "Ren, why is he talking like that? Is he cursed? Does he need a muffin?"

"It’s not a curse, Ty," I said, a wave of old, familiar irritation bubbling up in my chest. "It’s middle management. It’s worse."

[System Notification: Audit Initialized.]

[Objective: Justify your Guild’s ’Resource Expenditure’ to the Auditor.]

[Warning: Failure to meet Q3 goals will result in immediate termination.]

"Ren," Lysandra said, her voice low and dangerous. She stepped forward, her silver shield catching the cold blue light of the office buildings. "The people. They’re moving."

The transparent people—the ones with the screen-eyes—had begun to close in. They weren’t running. They were walking with a slow, deliberate pace, pulling objects from their briefcases. I saw staplers that looked like hand-crossbows, pens that hummed with laser energy, and rolls of red tape that writhed like snakes.

[Target: Junior Associates (Level 22)]

"Okay," I said, finally snapping out of the shock. "This isn’t a conversation. It’s a raid. Red, take the rooftops! Kaelen, hold the center! Lysandra, protect the rear! Theo, whatever a ’Coder’ does, do it now!"

"I need a terminal!" Theo shouted, looking around frantically. He was still in his ’Code is Law’ t-shirt, looking small and defenseless without his silver power-suit. "I can’t just manifest code out of thin air, Ren! I’m Level 1!"

"Find one!" I yelled, dodging a flying stapler-bolt that hissed past my ear. It struck a glass pillar behind me, leaving a glowing ’REJECTED’ stamp seared into the surface.

The fight began with a chaotic burst of corporate violence.

Kaelen roared, his Abyssal Plating flaring as he swung the Prototype. He sliced through the first wave of Junior Associates, his blade passing through their transparent bodies like they were made of gelatin. But they didn’t bleed. They just flickered, their screen-eyes turning red.

"Ren, they’re regenerating!" Kaelen shouted, parrying a strike from a laser-pen. "My sword isn’t drinking them! There’s no soul to consume!"

"They’re constructs!" Cian yelled, waving his wand to create a barrier of force. "They’re fueled by the city’s power grid! You have to cut the connection!"

I looked down. Beneath the glass floor, I could see the pulsating blue lines of the ’rhythm’ from the previous floor. But here, they weren’t rhythmic. They were structured, like a circuit board.

"Theo! The floor!" I pointed down. "Can you read the circuits?"

Theo dropped to his knees, pressing his hands against the glass. His eyes widened behind his glasses. "It’s... it’s all logic gates. If-then statements. Ren, if I can tap into the local node, I can rewrite the ’Associate’ parameters!"

"Do it! Red, cover him!"

Red dropped from a glass balcony, her daggers carving a path through a group of associates who were trying to swarm the boy. "Getting real tired of these ’other-world’ gimmicks, Ren! Can’t we just fight some normal goblins for once?"

"Ask the Tower!" I shouted, engaging an Associate who was trying to hit me with a roll of glowing red tape.

I used the "Edge of Reality." The silver line on my knife flared as it touched the tape. Unlike the previous floors, where I had to rely on physics, the knife now felt like it was slicing through the very code of the enemy. The red tape didn’t just break; it dissolved into strings of binary that evaporated in the air.

"Ren!" Mr. Henderson’s voice boomed over the sounds of combat. He was still standing there, untouched, tapping his clipboard. "You’re getting distracted again! Look at your KPIs! Your ’Team Morale’ is through the floor! Your ’Operational Costs’ are astronomical! You’re a liability, Ren! A failure!"

I felt a sharp sting in my chest. It wasn’t a physical wound. It was the Thought mana, channeled through the "Auditor." It was hitting every insecurity I’d ever had. The years wasted in a job I hated. The fear that I was just a fraud playing at being a hero. The guilt of knowing that my "future knowledge" had already cost people their lives.

"You’re nothing but a clerk with a stolen knife!" Henderson sneered.

"Ren, don’t listen to him!" Lysandra’s voice cut through the noise. She was holding the line against a dozen associates, her shield glowing with a brilliant gold light. "He’s just an Echo! He’s not real!"

"He feels real enough," I panted, struggling to breathe as the pressure of the audit increased. The air was becoming thick with floating ’Invoices’—glowing sheets of paper that drained my stamina whenever they touched my skin.

[Stamina: 12/25]

[Warning: Physical Audit in progress. Assets under-performing.]

"Ren, look out!"

A massive Associate—a ’Senior Manager’ level—burst through a glass wall. He was ten feet tall, wearing a pinstripe suit that looked like it was made of armor plating. In his hand, he held a giant, glowing fountain pen that looked like a spear.

[Target: Senior Manager (Level 28)]

He lunged. I was too slow. My Level 15 stats were being suppressed by the ’Audit’ debuff. I felt the cold energy of the pen-tip graze my shoulder, sending a jolt of ’Productivity’ mana through my arm that made my muscles lock up.

"Gah!" I fell to one knee, the knife slipping from my hand.

The Senior Manager raised the pen for a final thrust. "Termination approved," he droned.

WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!

Cerberus launched himself. The four-headed dog didn’t go for the manager’s throat. He went for the floor. One head bit into the glass, while the other three unleashed a coordinated roar of Space, Life, and Soul mana.

The glass floor shattered. Not the whole street, but the section beneath the Senior Manager.

The giant construct stumbled, falling through the hole into the foggy abyss below. A second later, there was a distant boom of electrical feedback.

"Nice one, boy!" Tybalt cheered, throwing a ’Mana-Bread’ roll to the dog. Cerberus caught it mid-air, wagging his tails.

"Ren, get up!" Red was back at my side, hauling me to my feet. "Theo’s in! He found the ’Wi-Fi’!"

I looked at Theo. He was hunched over a glowing panel that had risen from the sidewalk. His fingers were moving in a blur, and a green screen was reflected in his glasses. "I’m in the mainframe! I’m changing the ’Hostile’ tag to ’Internal Memo’!"

Suddenly, the Junior Associates stopped attacking. They lowered their staplers and pens. Their screen-eyes turned from red to a neutral green. They turned around and started walking back into their buildings, ignoring us completely.

The silence that followed was heavy. The only sound was the distant tick-tock of the city and the heavy breathing of my team.

Mr. Henderson stared at the panel Theo was hacking. His face twisted into a snarl of pure, corporate rage. "Unstructured data! Unauthorized access! This is a violation of the employee handbook, Ren! I’ll see you in HR! I’ll see you erased!"

He turned and bolted toward the largest building in the city—a towering spire of black glass that reached the purple clouds.

"He’s heading for the Boardroom," I said, wiping blood from my lip. I picked up my knife. The silver line was glowing a steady, defiant white.

"Are we going after him?" Tybalt asked, sounding like he already knew the answer and wasn’t happy about it. "Because I really think we should just find the exit and leave him to his clipboard."

"He is the exit, Ty," I said. "The Auditor holds the key to Floor 12. And honestly? I have some things I’ve been wanting to say to him for five years."

"Then let’s go," Kaelen said, sheathing his sword. "I want to see what ’HR’ looks like. It sounds like a place where I can break things."

We started walking toward the black spire. The city felt different now. The Junior Associates were still there, sitting at transparent desks inside the transparent buildings, typing on transparent keyboards. It was a world of absolute visibility, but it felt more hollow than any dungeon we’d cleared.

"Ren," Red said, falling into step beside me. She was unusually quiet. "Is this what your world was really like? Just... this? Clocks and paper and guys in suits?"

"Most of it," I said. "I spent eight hours a day sitting in a little box made of fabric, looking at a screen that showed me numbers. I did that for five years."

"That sounds worse than the Iron Hold," Red whispered. "At least in prison, you know you’re in a cage. You were in a cage you paid for."

"That’s exactly what it was, Red," I said.

We reached the base of the spire. The doors were made of solid, non-transparent obsidian. Above them, a sign glowed in cold white neon: [THE CENTRAL COMMITTEE - HUMAN RESOURCES DIVISION].

"Theo, can you open it?" I asked.

Theo shook his head. "This is a closed circuit. I need to be inside to bypass the encryption. But Ren... look at the rankings again."

I swiped the screen.

[Rank 1: Zero (Level 21) - Status: Internal Access.]

[Rank 2: Ren (Level 20) - Status: External Access.]

"The Tower still thinks he’s Rank 1," I muttered. "Even though I wished his gear away."

"It’s because he has the ’Knowledge’ stat," Cian explained. "The Tower doesn’t just rank you on power. It ranks you on how much of the ’Truth’ you hold. Theo knows the code. That makes him dangerous even in a t-shirt."

"I’m not dangerous," Theo said, looking down at his hands. "I’m just a kid who played a game too well. But Ren... Zero is still in there. The part of me that wants to win. If we go into that Boardroom, I don’t know if I can help you fight him."

"We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, Theo," I said.

I looked at the obsidian doors. I didn’t wait for a key. I raised my hand and knocked.

"Mr. Henderson! The Guild is here for the meeting!"

The doors swung open.

Inside was a lobby that looked like it had been designed by a minimalist god. White marble floors, high ceilings, and a single, long desk manned by a woman with hair pulled back so tight it looked painful.

"The Guild of Eclipse?" she asked, not looking up from her screen. "You’re five minutes early. Please have a seat in the waiting area. There are magazines and lukewarm water available."

"We aren’t here to wait," Lysandra said, stepping forward.

"The Auditor will see you now," the woman droned. "Elevator 4. Top floor."

We walked to the elevator. It was a glass box that shot upward the moment the doors closed. I watched the city shrink below us. The higher we went, the more the transparent buildings looked like a circuit board.

Ding.

The doors opened.

The Boardroom was a vast, circular room with a floor made of starlight. In the center was a massive table made of white wood. Sitting around the table were twelve figures in suits—The Board of Directors. Their faces were blurry, as if the Tower hadn’t quite finished rendering them.

At the head of the table sat Mr. Henderson. And standing behind him, holding a silver spear that looked like a jagged bolt of lightning, was the Shadow-Ren.

"Welcome to the final review," the Shadow said, smiling with my own mouth.

"Ren," the Shadow-Ren continued, walking around the table. He pointed his knife at Kaelen, then Lysandra, then Mia. "You brought your ’Family.’ How sentimental. But the Board has reached a decision. Your Guild is redundant. You are being restructured."

"Restructured?" Tybalt asked.

"It means they’re going to kill us and use our mana to power the next floor," Cian whispered.

"Exactly," Henderson said, standing up. He looked at me with a cold, predatory smile. "Ren, you never understood the most basic rule of business. You don’t own the story. You’re just an expense. And today, we’re balancing the books."

He raised his clipboard.

[Final Audit Phase: The Liquidation.]

[Objective: Defeat the Board of Directors.]

[Warning: Narrative Dissolution in progress.]

The Board members stood up. Their suits began to tear, revealing bodies made of black ink and blue wires. They weren’t people anymore. They were the very ’Regrets’ the Fox had warned us about.

One of them shifted into a shape I recognized. A tall man in a captain’s uniform. Lysandra’s father.

Another shifted into three young girls with braided hair. Kaelen’s sisters.

"No," Kaelen whispered, his sword hand trembling.

"It’s an illusion, Kaelen!" I shouted. "Don’t look at them!"

"It’s not an illusion," the Shadow-Ren said, stepping into the center of the room. "It’s the truth you tried to forget. Kaelen, tell me... do they look like they forgive you?"

The three girls turned toward Kaelen. Their eyes were empty voids. "Why didn’t you come home, big brother?" they whispered in unison.

Kaelen fell to his knees, his black claymore clattering to the starlight floor.

"I... I tried," he choked out.

"Kaelen, get up!" I yelled, but the pressure in the room was immense. The Thought mana was crushing us.

Lysandra was staring at the man in the captain’s uniform. He was looking at her with a face of pure, cold disappointment. "You betrayed the crown for a baker, Lysandra? Is this the honor I taught you?"

Lysandra’s shield arm dropped. The golden light of her aura flickered and died.

We were losing. Not to swords, but to the weight of our own pasts.

"Ren," the Shadow-Ren said, walking toward me. "What about you? You want to see yours?"

The Shadow waved his hand.

The Boardroom dissolved.

I was standing in a small, dark apartment. The only light came from a computer monitor. I saw a version of myself sitting in a chair, staring at the screen. He looked older. Greyer. He was alone. There were no friends. No dog. No bakery.

"This is the ending you’re headed for," the Shadow whispered. "Even if you win, you’re just a guy who escaped into a book because he couldn’t handle the real world. You’re a coward, Ren."

I looked at the version of me in the chair. He looked so tired. So empty.

"Maybe," I whispered.

The Shadow smiled, raising his knife for the killing blow.

But then, I heard a sound.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was the sound of a broom hitting a wall.

And the smell of burnt flour.

I looked down. In my hand, I wasn’t holding a knife. I was holding a piece of Tybalt’s mana-bread.

"I’m a coward?" I said, looking up at the Shadow.

I took a bite of the bread. The taste was sharp, real, and full of the memories of the last few months. The smell of the ocean. The sound of Red’s laughter. The feeling of Kaelen’s hand on my shoulder.

"Cowards don’t make friends like mine," I said.

I stood up. The dark apartment shattered like cheap glass. I was back in the Boardroom.

"Kaelen! Lysandra!" I roared, my voice echoing through the starlight. "They aren’t your regrets! They’re your reasons! You fight so that no one else has to feel that way again! Look at Mia! Look at Tybalt!"

Mia was standing in the corner, her hands glowing as she held back the black ink of the Board members. Tybalt was frantically throwing ’Sourdough Shields’ to keep the guards away.

"We aren’t our pasts!" I yelled. "We’re the Guild of Eclipse! And we’re currently over-budget on kicking your ass!"

Kaelen looked up. His eyes snapped from the void-eyed girls to me. The purple glow in his skin returned, brighter than I’d ever seen it. "You’re right, Ren. My sisters... they would have hated me for giving up."

He grabbed his sword and stood up.

Lysandra slammed her shield into the floor, a wave of gold light washing away the image of her father. "Honor isn’t a crown, Father. It’s a choice. And I choose them!"

The Boardroom erupted into chaos. Kaelen was a whirlwind of black steel, his claymore cleaving through the ink-bodies of the directors. Lysandra was a beacon, her light turning the ’Invoices’ and ’Red Tape’ into harmless ash.

I turned to the Shadow-Ren.

"My turn," I said.

The Shadow snarled, lunging at me. "You’re just a clerk!"

"I was a clerk," I said, parrying his strike with the Edge of Reality. "Now, I’m the guy who’s going to fire you."

I stepped inside his guard. I didn’t stab him. I grabbed his clipboard—the manifestation of the Tower’s audit.

"Audit failed," I said.

I slammed the obsidian shard into the clipboard.

KRA-KOOM.

The clipboard exploded in a shower of sparks and paper. The Shadow-Ren let out a shriek as his body began to dissolve into black ink.

"This... isn’t... the... script!" he screamed.

"I know," I said. "I’m editing it."

The Shadow vanished.

Mr. Henderson fell backward over his chair, staring at us with wide, terrified eyes. "You... you can’t do this! The Committee... the Emperor..."

"The Committee is dismissed, Henderson," I said, pointing my knife at his chest. "Give us the key."

Henderson fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a golden key-card. I snatched it from him.

[Floor 11 Cleared!]

[Tower Level 25 Reached!]

[System Announcement: Rank 1 and Rank 2 have converged.]

[New Leaderboard Status: Ren & Theo (Shared Rank 1).]

The Boardroom began to shimmer, turning into a golden portal.

"Ren," Theo said, walking over to me. He looked at the golden key-card. "You did it. You actually stood up to your boss."

"It only took me five years and a magical tower," I laughed, though I was shaking.

We walked toward the portal. But as we reached the threshold, I saw someone standing in the shadows of the doorway.

It wasn’t Henderson. Or a shadow.

It was Jace. She was leaning against the wall, her white armor covered in black ink. She looked at me and gave a tired thumbs-up.

"Nice work, Ren," she said. "Gondar would have been proud. But listen... Floor 12 isn’t like this. The ’Regrets’ are over. Now comes the ’Longing.’"

"What’s the difference?" Red asked.

"Regrets are what you did," Jace said, stepping into the light. "Longing is what you’re willing to do to get what you want."

She pointed to the portal. "Floor 12 is called ’The Garden of Lost Hopes.’ And Ren... I saw your dog there. The real one."

I froze. "Cerberus is right here."

"Not the four-headed one," Jace said, her voice dropping. "The one from the farm. The three-legged one. He’s waiting for you at the gate."

I looked down at the hound at my feet. Cerberus tilted his heads, looking confused.

"Let’s go," I said, my heart hammering.

We stepped into the portal.

The glass city vanished. The audit was over.

But the real test was just beginning.