SAL Stone Industries, a public sector business. “Welcome to the team. Or rather—family, I should say.”
Drowze shook that very same hand of the new hire who presented to him the current quarterly profit margins of the company decades later.
The dream of many is to make it big in the world. He had poured over the books, learned the theory, earned the degree, founded the business, tried, failed, and tried again, and now stood at the pinnacle of the corporate ladder. So when Drowze obtained it all, the thought slowly seeped in: ‘Is this really what I get in the end?’.
Wake up, hit snooze, eat a nutritionally-balanced breakfast, drive his extravagant car to the office, sit through shareholder meetings, interview potential cogs in the machine, phone CEOs as misanthropic as he was, drive back to his lavish mansion, eat the dinner prepared by his personal chef, sleep. Rinse and repeat.
“Our shareholders didn’t receive it well?”
The sun beamed in Drowze’s eyes as he sat in the rather-warm meeting room. After shifting in the chair and listening to his senior executive present the disastrous requirements of the man in charge of the nation, he couldn’t help but lean back and let his eyes drift. Being the chief executive officer of a shell manufacturer corporation for major military materiel, he had put up with the demands of the Supreme Leader, Atlas, countless times. Those damn bushy eyebrows, that slicked back hair, and that all-imposing smile. If he had to see them one more time…
Ah. So this is it.
Returning his gaze outside the window, Drowze rested his chin on a palm. “Backlash is something all companies have to face.”
The general public disapproved of the new policies overseen by Atlas as of late. Sending all of their tax to the Chordian armed forces obviously didn’t sit right with them, and as a result, businesses with direct ties to defense took a hit. His was no different.
“What should our next move be?” the executive asked, twirling a pen in her hand and looking at him straight in the eye as if knowing already. In the events that follow a downturn, that executive had always been present to watch the consequences unfold. Her guess would be simple.
20 percent of the company will lose their livelihoods, but to Drowze, it was just another Tuesday.
・
“It was very hard coming here today. I’ve tried, really tried to avoid this inevitable future, but the market has changed, and we will require change ourselves. SAL will require major extensive rework in its internal structure with no way around it. It’s the inevitable truth that all businesses have to face. This is not to say everyone has done meaningless work, in fact quite the contrary. Everyone here has tremendously contributed to the company and I am truly grateful for every single one of your ideas that shaped SAL Stone Industries. However, it is a shame that this will have to end and a shame I will have to say these next few words. I deeply regret to inform you that we will have to let you go. Your service here is terminated.” He sighed. The looks from the workers have, expectedly, grew hostile. “Let it be known that you have engraved yourself in our company’s history and forever be remembered as alumni here at SAL.”
“—Fuck you!”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Didn’t you say that we were family?!”
“You’re literally sitting on an ivory chair—get off of your high horse and say that again to our faces!”
Before any one of the workers could fight past the guards holding back the sudden mob, Drowze quickly disappeared into his quarters. As he took a load off onto his CEO chair, he loosened the collar to his suit. A quick glance at the thermostat showed that it was a couple degrees above his liking. No wonder that meeting took all of his energy away.
“Note that one on the calendar…” Looked like he needed to call a repairman for the air conditioning.
Eventually, the noise outside his room petered out, signaling that the guards had done their work. The public security authorities perform well and he knew better not to dismiss their expensive services. Any physical altercations resulted in imprisonment, plus, the ex-workers wouldn’t get far with their workplace grievances as their termination was effective immediately. Thus, the once capable employees of SAL had become no more than growing pains to the company.
Yet… It seemed the dash of doublespeak wasn’t enough to dampen the impact.
{{!?@@$@@
!!@}{“#}@#{!}!
{@%%)(@*$@(&$!!! )
What a nice email to be sent by an anonymous sender.
Waking up that next morning to such a profane message was to be expected, and yet the chill he received when he read that last line could freeze a flame.
That moment, the phone on his desk rang. Reluctantly, he picked up the receiver and held it against his ear. Even though the voice was heavily vocoded to the point where he hardly understood the speaker’s words, he knew they had said the exact same threats as the email.
“Look outside your window.”
And then the rain of glass showered his vision.
・・・・・
That freaking smile.
“Wahaha! So it seems the people were not too happy with your decision, eh? My sincere condolences.”
The overwhelming presence of the one who paid him a visit brought nerves to the hospital staff just as effectively as his public appearances and broadcasts. Supreme Leader Atlas lightened up the gray walls of the infirmary room, and Drowze couldn’t have felt any more drained of color. He didn’t ask for an apology from the man who struck a blow into his profits, let alone taking time out of his busy day for a surprise visit.
“Sir. This is no laughing matter. I am being targeted.” Drowze gestured to his bandaged arms and scalp. “These are stitches from the glass shards by that gunshot yesterday.”
“And those are the only worries you should have left!” Atlas patted his attendant on the shoulder which did little in breaking her imposing parade rest. “Enma here has already taken care of the culprit and any other potential treasonists willing to risk their futures as citizens. All that remains for you is to recover as fast as possible! Wahaha!”
But knowing his reputation, that attack wouldn’t be the last, and the culprits wouldn’t be limited to employees of SAL. “I can’t be too sure about that, sir.”
Atlas nodded and stretched his grin even further, as if knowing what he meant. “Then, I’ll leave Enma here in your care! She’s capable of great work and more than enough to silence the others for good.”
A young woman that recently graduated from the officer academy of Chordia and was promoted a rank within a month. Enma showed the greatest potential for growth and advancement after leading countless successful reconnaissance missions in Alkain territory, surveying and acquiring valuable topographic data. In spite of those accomplishments, her proper stance didn’t match with the sudden icy glare she shot towards Drowze.
“Let me just say this now. I despise those at the top who lost the ability to meet eye to eye with others.” she said without a drop of sympathy.
“Hey. Hey. Cut me some slack here. I’m injured, can’t you see? Can’t exactly do much to change my past like this.” Throwing his arms up only resulted in Enma narrowing her eyes.
“Would you like to be more injured than you already are?”
“Care to say that again, ice queen?”
“After your profit margins turn to dust, conglomerate boy.”
“—Wahaha! As expected of Enma to not mince her words and communicate effectively! Wahahaha!”
Resting his balled fists on his waist and leaning back, Atlas’s roaring laughter quickly shut the two up. Drowze could’ve sworn the bed frame rattled with each heave, and even Enma leaned her head away from him as if to keep her hearing intact. After a solid thirty seconds, Atlas’s laughs finally died down. The man cleared his throat and a pause later, a cold, calculating tone of a leader exuded from his voice.
“Drowze. It’s for the sake of getting you off the ground. Citizens of Chordia have the right to a long, fulfilling life—one with immunity and without the shackles of a nation’s natural trepidations. At least, that is my ultimate goal as Supreme Leader. If I can’t help out one citizen, then who am I to lead our fellow people?” Atlas turned to his left. “That goes for you too, First Lieutenant. With the path you are on right now, you should see yourself taking up further roles in the future. Roles that will impact millions of lives. Some may have differing opinions on matters, but challenging them is how we strengthen our own.”
Enma noticeably let out a slight huff as she closed her eyes. “Please excuse my unsightly behavior.”
Drowze felt that was directed towards the Supreme Leader and not himself, but he was fine with that. He knew that the gunshot wasn’t merely an attempt by a streetpunk. It was one of his workers who was unlucky to be in the layoff group—one caught in the crossfire of a decision that he knew would strip the livelihoods of many. One attempt was a byproduct of the bubbling rage that had stemmed from each layoff. And of course, it had finally come to bite him back.
・・・・・
A week back into the office after being discharged from the hospital, Drowze sighed, looking down from the 12th floor window at the horde of protestors surrounding the building entrance. A riot. Some unionization of former employees waving around ‘worker’s rights’ picket signs. The journalists were going to have a field day with this.
“Quite the commotion down there.” Enma beside him looked out indifferent to the commotion. Though the union was blocking off traffic with some bad apples throwing rocks that shattered property glass and generally causing a disturbance to the public, she appeared completely unaffected by the urgency of the situation.
“Not much we can do about that—” Drowze started, but she turned around to the exit.
“Worry not.” she said before disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing alongside the dozen or so employees on that floor.
There’s no way.
If somebody was crazy enough to send a bullet through his office’s window, surely one or two in that mob wouldn’t think twice to pull a gun on her. Even if it was her job, what means did she have to appease a frenzy crowd that filled an entire city block? The only thing she had—was the scabbard by her waist.
…But then he saw it all. A small figure emerged from the headquarter’s entrance which caused the protesters in the immediate vicinity to back away. Every single person was trained on the First Lieutenant, maintaining what little distance they can make. The next moment, she unbuckled the saber from its leather straps, drew out the thin blade, and pointed it towards the sky—then gasps filled the office floor. Every single protester of the union dropped to their knees in unison, as if kneeling down to a Queen.
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They lingered on the flagstones for a solid minute, likely Enma giving a warning speech in that time as when she sheathed back her sword into its scabbard, everyone hesitantly got to their feet and dispersed off the street. Even as Drowze watched people give scared or resentful looks at her behind her back, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Enma had quelled the obstinate former employees of SAL without shedding a drop of blood.
“That was… excellently done.” Drowze remarked after she made her way back to the window, like if she had merely gone to take a call.
“This is as far as the contract goes.”
“Huh? O—Oh right.” Though security wouldn’t be ramped up until a few days from now, the fact remained that he was back in the office. “Guess so. Thanks for helping out this week. Now I won’t have to see your face from this point on.”
Entering a parade rest and looking out into the capital, Enma lowered her gaze at the skyline. “Have your men ever thanked you for your contributions towards them?” she asked, catching him off guard.
“They have?”
Albeit for formality’s sake.
“Then you have thrown them away like expendable pawns.”
“Come on now. Who are you to judge the business decisions of a company? Just because you’re some commanding officer, doesn’t mean you can step past your boundaries as a bodyguard.”
“I’m no longer a bodyguard no?”
Drowze clicked his tongue.
“The fact that a union had formed is proof that we are living in unprecedented times. Even as we speak, every region is focusing on their own pursuits of what they deem important for the future. Chordia just so happens to be a nation who sees potential in industrial revolutions.” Enma stated. “That is why Supreme Leader Atlas took the risk in furthering Defense, even if it affected the lives of those closest to it. It was only natural to rebel against the oppressor.”
“And you are okay with being a pawn yourself?” Drowze asked, remaining undeterred.
“I strive for the safety of our people. Those who sit idly by and let others take the brunt force of the world are no better than the dirt they walk on. Chief Executive Drowze, I hope you realize the privilege you’ve gained and the many ways it can be used in the face of adversity.”
Those words were the first to embed the inequalities of the world in his mind—whether he wanted them in his mind or not—no matter how many times he had tried to vanquish them. Nothing changed the fact that he was experiencing those words first hand. Within the week at the hospital, no, mere hours after performing his massive layoff, SAL’s stocks had plummeted to unprecedented levels and the company was on the verge of bankruptcy. The cash bonuses, the equity, the properties, the cars, the lifestyle was all on the line.
That night after shutting the lights in his quarters, Drowze racked his brain just as much as he had when starting that first business. In order to carve paths, he cultivated a skill no other cog could develop.
Creativity.
・・・・・
“I can…”
Privilege. Influence. The top.
“I can be…”
So I could prove her wrong.
“An ambassador.”
It was perfect. Using his relationship with the Supreme Leader and perfected soft skills, he could take any position he could ever want. The talk with Enma broadened his thinking—his potential capital influence—across borders. Truly perfect. Mend relations with other nations while profiting even further than inside his office. He could be seen as an innovator. A hero, even.
I can…
“Haha... A vacation in Alkai sounds good to me.”
Live lavishly.
A tinge encroached on his neck and a few seconds later, a warmth seeped down his shoulder. The moment he looked to his shoulders was when the intense pain came.
“Ah—Aaaaaaah—aaaaaaauugh!” Drowze fell to the floor, cupping his hands over the source on his neck. Feelings of warmth seeped through his palms and fingers. Blood. The redness smeared his neck as he convulsed on the floor as the pain increasingly grew.
“What a pitiful sight.” A voice emanated from above. Footsteps on the hardwood led Drowze’s eyes to a sneering face. His assailant’s hair was slicked up with a few strands covering his eyes and his open jacket exposed his bare abs. Tapping a long, thin sword on his shoulder, the man leaned forward. “This is supposed to be one of your dainty high-class entrepreneurs?”
“Where’s… where’s Enma…” Drowze groaned. “Where is she… I still have investments to make… loans to give out…”
“Kehaha! Even on death's door you’re still thinking about that crap, huh? Then go ahead and capitalize on others in Heaven!”
Before the sword plunged in his neck, Drowze strained his vocal cords, flailing his arms up. “W—Wait! Don’t kill me please! Please I’m begging you! P—Perhaps we can make a deal?!” That eloquent speech pattern he picked up survived even in the most stressing situations.
“A deal? Kehahaha!” He leaned back and hollered. “If that’s not the most perfect thing for a CEO to say, then I don’t know what is!”
“You’re here to get revenge right?! May I interest you in some dolyen—a lifetime’s worth—”
The sword’s tip dug into Drowze’s skin.
“Your company just downsized, mate. And I’m not interested in money. ”
He’s not in it for monetary gain? Is he not one of my former employees? Then what can I offer? Anything… Anything to survive another second… “I’ll… make it worth your while. I… have connections… I can offer you a path to the high positions in society…” I'm out of my mind.
“Drowze, was it?” The assailant knelt down, pausing before speaking. “You were babbling about being an ambassador just now. You got balls for even thinking of something like that.”
Did I just get his attention? In that moment, Drowze gained a good understanding of his attacker’s character. It was enough confidence that he spoke his next line with vigor. “That wasn’t… entirely a lie. I could care less about diplomatic relations. I’ll maintain my lavish lifestyle or die trying.”
“Kehaha! And? What was your plan exactly to convince the Daimyo to open their borders? Hell, to live with a single percent of what you have now?”
Blood had reached the assailant’s boots and Drowze’s vision began to waver. His head was too clouded to think of a clever response. “I’ll… think of a way…”
“You’re gonna die in a ditch before ever stepping foot in Reine.” He stood back up, sheathing his sword. “So I’d say that counts as a successful assassination.”
“Wha…” Words caught in Drowze’s throat. Assassination? This assailant was some sort of hitman and he had just been granted mercy? There was no time to process it all. His vision, losing its color, focused on the man’s face one last time. “Just… Just who the hell are you?”
“Someone who wants to watch those at the edge of society’s cage. Kehaha! Watching a CEO hit rock bottom trying to survive in rags will be hilarious!”
・・・・・
If I had done what she said, then I wouldn’t have sat through two irritating laughs… and still be reading books by my pool.
“So this is what Enma meant.” Drowze sighed, watching a baseball roll to his feet.
The slums were the last place he likened to a comfortable residence. Graffitied walls, clothes drying from thin roofs, advertised banners on parchment paper, plastic utensils and furniture, kids playing with stray dogs and cats, run down motorcycles, wet sludgy walkways, and the trash, oh the trash. He considered the roof over his head to be trash but it served as protection against the elements. The word ‘sanitation’ lost all its meaning. Plumbing. Running water. Electricity. The given necessities he thought were human rights were now a luxury.
“So you used to be a CEO, eh? How’s life treating you?”
A jest from his left. The plastic chair already ached his bottom, and now he had to deal with the contempt of a local. Though he had met this man one week prior and had received help in surviving in his new environment, Drowze didn’t feel the need to bond any further with him.
“You seem happy even though your life circumstances and future are as opaque as a dirty window.”
“A window is a window, whether or not you can see through it.” The local responded, then pointed to his feet. “You gonna throw me that ball back?”
Drowze begrudgingly reached for the ball and tossed it to him. Not wanting to be disturbed further, he slid back into the chair, closing his eyes to let the sun wash over him. But not a second later, he felt a thump on his thighs. Cracking an eyelid, the same baseball rested on his lap. He peered to his left to see the man smile and gesture to himself.
A sigh.
Bills to pay, groceries to buy, laundry to wash—the once CEO didn’t think that he would use his valuable time to play catch with a total stranger.
After a couple of back and forths tossing the baseball, the local finally spoke. “Ya know, they say these slums grew fast ‘cause of the expulsion of polluting industries.”
“Are you trying to make me feel remorse?”
“Nah, I was going to say we get stuff like this baseball to enjoy our time with. All the stuff we ever need: food, clothing, shelter, entertainment, it’s all free thanks to the guys next door.”
“Keh. You’re living on trash, you know that?”
That hitman was right. Conditions here were not even close to one percent of the life he lived prior, but Drowze refused to sink into despair. It took a great deal of effort to learn the methods of washing oneself with a pan and finding people who generously gave out food. For the night, he had found himself a torn blanket which he used as a makeshift hammock. The next day, he saw that same local cooking food and offered to trade with an armament shell. Apparently their shape and material make for shatter resistant bowls.
It just so happened one of the warehouse suppliers of SAL was located on the border between Chordia and Alkai, so Drowze was able to get his hands on his own products to barter with—meaning the trash that his industry tossed aside was consequently being used by these people.
“You say that, but you seem to have acclimated to life here quite well already, Mr. CEO.”
“...Don’t call me that.”
“Bwahaha! Fine with me.” The local lifted himself from the chair and walked over to rummage through a nearby pile of knick-knacks. Out he pulled a bat with scuff marks all over its body. “Let’s have some real fun, shall we?” He struck the ball, sending it hurtling towards Drowze which he barely received by the skin of his teeth. “How do you like that? Now you take the bat.”
“Oh?” Drowze didn’t take it and instead raised an eyebrow. “I was half expecting you to begin a real game of baseball. Do you not know people that enjoy playing the sport?”
The confused look from the local told him otherwise. No, on the contrary, Drowze had watched this man play catch with countless people over the course of his stay. His silence must’ve been for a different reason.
“Are you people aware of baseball?”
“...What is that?”
That confirmed it. These people growing up in the slums must’ve been cut off from the outside world alongside its cultural developments. Drowze grinned. Limitation breeds creativity. Making use of one’s connections is tantamount for a business’s success.
“Let me show you a glimpse into a better life.”
・・・・・
“—Batter up!”
“Out!”
“That pitch was barely inside! You gotta stay in there!”
“That’s the ticket!”
Fa-chunk!
The makeshift playing field of thrown out plates and dug-out lines quickly became the center of attention in the slum’s main hub. People flocked from high-rises just to catch a good view of the new craze. After explaining the basics of runs, innings, plates, batting, and fielding to the men closest to the local, they and the many onlookers became consumed by the game.
“What the hell. This is intense.” he said watching the ball shatter the only remaining window of a far-off building.
Really, Drowze considered baseball to be the least extreme out of all the major sports, but he nodded in agreement.
“Honestly, thanks Mr. CEO… I wouldn’t have come up with this baseball thing, rules and all. The guys haven’t had this kind of fun in forever.”
“I told you not to call me that.” He glared at him, only for the local to chuckle back. Hearing that thanks made memories of Enma’s words, but more importantly, the early days of his business to resurface. In the face of every startup high-risk of failure, every accomplishment alongside his few comrades felt like crossing milestones; a time where they gave genuine thanks to each other. He returned his gaze back down to the game.
“...Do you guys want more than just this? To strive for better?”
He had once read a meta-analysis on the narcissism of CEOs in a renowned journal. The author claimed, based on the countless articles in the same vein, that all the grandiosity and inflated self-view was the result of the system’s encouragement of such behavior. It was only natural to adopt his tendencies in a field so competitive like business. All the pronoun usage, the oversized signatures, and private asset usage—it was all in order to make it big in the system.
“What kind of question is that?” The local responded. “Right after showing us a piece of your world, it’s hard not to take up your offer, no?”
“All I’m saying… is that you don’t have to settle for less. You are aware of the capital of Alkai, and the riches and fortunes they possess, correct?”
From their view from the high-rise, it appeared all of the innings had finished as all of the men huddled together, cheering and hugging each other.
“Everyone does.”
“And does everyone want to—”
“Yeah, sometimes.” The local grimaced as if he had been suppressing that truth. “I haven’t told you this, but these guys have a history of fights with others ransacking whatever necessities they could get their hands on. It was only after they tried it on me that I threw enough hands, they started crawling back to me for my sunny-side ups.” They were rather built, this local especially. “‘It’s never too late.’ The motto of the slums. And they took it to heart. Playing catch with fraying baseballs, shooting rusty chained hoops, kicking deflated soccer balls into nets with more rips than the clothes they wear, it’s all for the sake of changing for the better.”
“...That very reason is why they think of better days?”
The local nodded.
“Surely then you can’t distract yourself with measly baseball games until the day of your death. Surely… you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs?” Drowze faced that local with the same body language as he learned to face executives. “Your men’s efforts will be worth its weight in gold.”
The invisible servitude of the business—no, to the nation that has allowed such businesses to thrive. Rags to riches, riches to rags. The days of entrepreneurship, self-made wealth, and financial freedom have ceased.
“CEOs, always grinding and looking towards more, huh?”
“Our endeavors…” Drowze sighed. It was time to drop the doublespeak. “Let’s just get this over with.”
So why did he want to live on—and take back his future?