Riko jogged forward, coffee cup in both hands like it was a live grenade, following the flickering red arrows that blinked overhead.
Each corridor looked the same: dark glass walls, molten floor tiles that pulsed underfoot, floating banners reading things like:
" WE VALUE YOUR ETERNAL SUFFERING "
"WRATH DIVISION: WHERE PASSION MEETS PROFIT"
"TODAY IS HELLDAY. TOMORROW IS HELL TOO."
He passed a cube farm where spiked, horned demons tapped furiously at keyboards.
Each wore a business headset and a smile that didn't reach their void-black eyes.
Riko's footsteps echoed. No one looked up.
Except for one intern—a pale, four-armed goblin in a Hell Corp hoodie—who screamed into a headset, "I TOLD YOU WE DO NOT ACCEPT GOAT BLOOD WITHOUT A RECEIPT," before slamming a phone down and bursting into tears.
Another demon zipped past on a levitating office chair, leaving behind a trail of scorched carpet and profanity.
The hallway split into three.
Riko stopped. Looked around.
The red arrow had glitched out, now blinking
ERROR: TOO STUPID TO NAVIGATE.
"Great," he muttered. "Doom maze with Starbucks rules."
To his left, an elevator opened and a geyser of screaming spiders poured out.
He politely closed it without stepping in.
To the right, a sign read:
EXECUTIVE ACCESS – ONLY SOUL-APPROVED PERSONNEL BEYOND THIS POINT ABSOLUTELY NO INTERNS WITHOUT A SUMMONED ESCORT.
Riko, still in boxers, squinted at it. "Well… I do have coffee."
He moved forward.
A pair of infernal security guards—eight feet tall, wearing mirrored sunglasses and suits made of stitched shadow—stepped into his path.
"Authorization?" one rumbled.
Riko held up the cup.
The guards stared.
The coffee hissed and bit the lid.
"...Proceed," they said in perfect unison, and stepped aside.
Riko kept walking, faster now, ignoring the whispers creeping along the walls, the paintings that blinked at him, the hallway plant that tried to snatch his leg.
The executive wing looked more like a nightclub crossed with a cult temple.
The floor was obsidian glass etched with glowing sigils. Digital fire displays floated in midair, showing performance charts and "Employee of the Quarter" pictures—all featuring demons mid-rampage.
At the far end was a massive obsidian door, twice the size of a semi-truck.
It had no handle, only a red circle etched with an icon of 'coffee'.
Riko approached. The circle pulsed once. Twice. Then—
ding
The door opened.
And inside, the temperature dropped ten degrees.
The door slid open with the soft, ominous hiss of something ancient inhaling.
Riko stepped inside.
The executive office was massive—like an entire cathedral remodeled by a warlock with a branding degree.
Lava ran in grooves along the edges of the floor like recessed lighting.
Holograms floated in midair, displaying infernal profit margins, war statistics, and espresso bean efficiency metrics.
A massive desk shaped like a demon skull dominated the far wall. But no one sat behind it.
Instead, on the left side of the room, a copy machine was violently vomiting fire.
"...Okay," Riko said, holding his coffee tighter. "So the executive isn't in, but the office equipment is possessed. Neat."
The coffee twitched in his hand.
Somewhere, a clock chimed thirteen times.
A glowing pop-up appeared in midair right in front of his face:
SIDE TASK DETECTED: UNAUTHORIZED INFERNAL ENTITY INTERFERING WITH WORKPLACE EQUIPMENT. ACCEPT TASK TO PREVENT INTERNAL SABOTAGE?[YES] [NO]
"God, fine." Riko tapped YES just to make it go away.
He immediately felt something shift.
Like a circuit in his bones flipped on.
His skin prickled. Every hair on his arm stood up like he'd been dunked in demon espresso.
[CONGRATULATIONS. POWER GRANTED: SARCASM-BASED REALITY WARPING – LVL 1]
You may now weaponize disdain.
"What the f—"
The copier screamed, spewing toner and eldritch smoke.
It grew spider legs and launched itself off the ground, shrieking.
Riko dodged on instinct and stumbled sideways. "I just wanted to deliver coffee, why is this happening to me—"
The demon copier screeched again and lunged.
Riko, unthinking, yelled, "OH PLEASE. YOU'RE A COPY MACHINE."
And something ignited.
A ripple of raw sarcasm surged out from him like a wave.
The air crackled.
The copy machine paused mid-leap… and exploded, vaporized by sheer condescension.
Bits of plastic and glowing demon circuitry rained down like confetti.
Riko stood in stunned silence.
Far above, hidden in an obsidian viewing gallery, a security feed projected Riko's image onto several infernal monitors.
Rows of demons in suits stared in silence.
"…Did that intern just vaporize a Class-2 demonic appliance using passive-aggressive energy?" one whispered.
Another adjusted his glasses. "I think we're going to need to promote him."