Chapter 83: The Final Audit, 2

The Chosen Hero Nick remained on his knees within the stagnant, unscripted puddle of dungeon water that had materialized out of nowhere beneath his broken form. (To make the scene more dramatic, you know.)

His armor—once a radiant, marketing-approved testament to high-tier celestial craftsmanship—was now nothing more than a collection of heavily dented, mismatched iron trash, cracked down the center and heavily encrusted with wet masonry dust and mud.

Three meters to his left, his legendary [BLADE OF THE RIGHTEOUS ECHO] lay in a pathetic, non-functional heap of rusted goblin-landfill scrap, completely stripped of its holy frame-data and its suspension of disbelief.

Then, after realizing that he was completely f*cked, the Chosen-Cucked one looked up at Mordecai Von Ravenloft.

His eyes, heavily bloodshot and rimmed with thick grease-sweat, no longer contained a single frame of the heroic starlight that had previously sustained his live-stream metrics. Now, there was only the raw, hollow existential dread of an asset whose liquidation value was being calculated in real-time.

"Please..." Nick whimpered, his voice cracking violently into a ragged, asthmatic whisper that barely carried across the boss's room. He reached out with a trembling, mud-covered gauntlet, his fingers clawing at the cold air beneath the Dark Lord's high, structured collar. "I... I only asked her to accompany me one last time to my high school and university friends! It was just a localized marketing stunt! For the brand alignment! Forgive me, please!"

The pathetic, sniveling words bounced off the vaulted ceiling of the central boss chamber, sounding incredibly flat and discordant against the architecture's immense, quiet dignity.

Kaito looked down at him, and both of his awakened, deep violet irises glowed with the freezing, mathematical precision of an enterprise server blade running a mandatory system diagnostic.

There was no theatrical hatred left in his expression. There was no validation, no cinematic satisfaction, and no heroic anger. There was only the profound, bone-deep exhaustion of a senior project manager who had spent his entire morning dealing with an intern who refused to read the basic operations manual.

"It is not within my current scope of duties to determine your structural resolution, Nick," Mordecai replied, his deep, resonant bass-baritone voice carrying across the chamber with the absolute finality of a closing ledger.

He slowly brought his gloved hands together.

Clap. Clap.

Then, the massive, reinforced double doors of the final boss chamber flew open with a heavy, pressurized echo.

From the clean, drywall-lined corridor of the Executive Lounge, one after another, the entire primary alliance faction stepped across the carpeted threshold. They walked onto the cracked stone floor in a neat, horizontal line: Kaz, Kashime, Jin, Luna, Waterfall, Meg, Light, Dusk, Sunrise, Lucretia, the Bunny Girl, and Yeu, other than all the random and generic NPCs he had brought with him. Valeria, Nya, and Seraphina had disappeared into another room.

Moreover, every single entity he had traded, abandoned, or systematically manipulated for personal view-count growth was present.

Kaz was at the immediate center of the vanguard, his hands buried deep in his green tracksuit pockets, his posture drained of kinetic momentum, his eyes flat and neutral. At the same time, Kashime walked beside him, his heavy leather trench coat brushing the rubble, his revolver held loosely in his right hand—not aimed, but perfectly calibrated for a rapid-fire compliance sequence.

Jin held his tiny purple shadow puppy securely in his arms while Luna kept her leather-bound notebook open, her silver fountain pen held at the ready.

Nick stared at the advancing crowd, his lips parting in a desperate, frantic search for a single frame of human sympathy. He found absolutely nothing. Mordecai stepped back, allowing the horizontal line of adventurers a clear, unmediated line of sight to the kneeling fraud. The silver embroidery on his light-absorbing robes bled a slow, rhythmic violet fire that illuminated the entire voting grid.

"The collective staff will now execute their evaluation, Piollo," Mordecai announced, his deep voice filling the chamber with absolute administrative authority. "The final structure of your severance package depends entirely on their current operational feedback."

Nick's head snapped from left to right, his eyes darting frantically from face to face, desperately searching for a loophole, a historical favor, or a minor relationship parameter he could exploit. The silence of the Dolby Surround audio environment was suffocating. "W-w-what do you mean...?" He asked, his voice trembling.

"In mundane words, it means that they will decide if you'll die or live. Easy," Mordecai said, his violet eyes glowing.

Nick shrieked. "IIIIIIH!"

Then, Kaz took a single, deliberate step forward, his boots squelching slightly in the stone dust.

"You know what?" Kaz said, his tone perfectly flat and devoid of any emotional acceleration. "I was actually fully prepared to leave you behind in the previous sector without filing a formal complaint. But then the system logged your real-time analytics. The fake bot followers. The premium pharmaceutical advertisements for your erectile dysfunction. The literal fact that you systematically used chemical cocktails to compromise a girl's cognitive processing so you could abuse her unconscious body for your thumbnail metrics." Kaz paused, looking down at his empty hands and then at Mordecai. "Terminate his contract. Liquidate him."

Kashime stepped forward immediately after him, his artificial eye whirring as it completed a rapid sweep of Nick's broken armor distribution. "I have processed a significant number of pathetic, low-tier entities during my career as a mercenary. But you? You don't even possess the data parameters to be a functioning antagonist. You are simply a mediocre, insecure middle-management non-entity who couldn't handle his own baseline insignificance." He looked down at Yeu, who gave a sharp, clinical nod from his side. "Liquidate him."

Jin tightened his grip on his shadow puppy, his single visible eye widening with a cold, unyielding intensity that completely bypassed his usual post-traumatic anxiety. "You're scum." He took a deep breath. "Liquidate him."

Luna stepped forward, her silver fountain pen hovering precisely over a fresh paragraph of italic script.

"From a purely operational and logistical perspective, your character sheet represents an absolute fiscal liability," Luna stated, her voice sharp and crystalline, completely free of any human warmth. "Your metrics are entirely negative. Your public relations value is a nonexistent parameter. Your emotional intelligence index is a negative decimal point. Moreover, your sexual harassment during our missions was disgusting." She executed a rapid, precise checkmark on the parchment. "Liquidate him."

Waterfall staggered forward, her blue hair completely tangled as she brandished her empty wine glass with a loud, drunken hiccup. "Y-you c-caused a-*hic*- a primeval water deity to waste an entire three hours of continuous observation time. *hic* My chronological value is statistically superior to your entire overarching plot arc." She let out a messy sob, wiping her nose with her sleeve. "Liquidate him."

Meg raised her wooden staff, the tip flickering with a brief, unstable red spark before she lowered it with an expression of profound boredom. "I originally intended to execute a high-impact five-hundred-pound concussive blast on your cranial geometry. But the budget requirements for that animation sequence exceed your current narrative value." She scoffed, looking away. "Liquidate him."

Light and Dusk stepped into the vanguard grid together, their heavy steel plates clinking in perfect synchronization.

"Your performance as a Chosen Hero represents a total compliance failure," Light declared, her visor clicking shut.

"And your performance as a male entity lacks any baseline structural integrity," Dusk added, her hands twitching against her greaves. "Liquidate him."

Sunrise murmured from the back of the line, her face pale as she checked the carpet lines near the threshold. "You are... a comprehensive operational deficit in general. Liquidate him."

Lucretia, attempting to step forward to deliver her critique, caught her long robes on a loose piece of concrete rubble, falling flat on her face before scrambling back up to adjust her glasses. "You... you caused a localized structural collapse that compromised the integrity of my wooden staff, and your department failed to file an incident report!" She rubbed her bruised knee with intense indignation. "Liquidate him."

The Bunny Girl casually raised her foot to scratch behind her velvet left ear once again, chewing on a stray piece of popcorn she had found in her collar. "I don't comprehend eighty percent of the corporate terminology being utilized in this chamber. But based on the current feedback loops, your character design appears to be thoroughly toxic. So..." She shrugged her shoulders. "Liquidate him."

Yeu, sitting impeccably straight on a plastic rolling armchair that a generic NPC mercenary had pushed forward for her, raised her second folded box of tomato juice like a mock toast. "Kashime has already processed the primary analytical parameters on my behalf. But I will add this: your physical layout is an absolute insult to the aesthetic rendering of this world." She took a slow, cold sip. "Liquidate him."

Nick looked at the collective horizontal line of faces. The last remaining frame of his shonen hope vanished from his logical horizon.

Mordecai then gave a single, slow nod of his structured collar.

"The staff feedback is unanimous, Nick," Mordecai announced, his deep bass voice vibrating through the stone floor channels. "Your contract with this narrative has undergone a comprehensive revocation. You are officially fired."

Nick's eyes widened to the maximum level, and his lips slightly apart, but before he could form a verbal response within his user interface, a massive, concussive explosion tore through the eastern structural masonry of the chamber.

A second three-foot-thick granite wall completely disintegrated in a pressurized cone of grey dust and gravel.

In that moment, Egel emerged from the smoke, her powerful, scar-lined frame covered in fresh lines of soot and minor abrasions, her blue eyes holding an absolute, unyielding focus. Walking right beside her, her frame restored to its normal, delicate proportions, was Regel. She was holding her silver serving spoon tightly, her red strands falling neatly over her forehead.

Nick's eyes instantly lit up, his mind desperately grasping at the classic 'vanguard rescue' trope.

"Egel! Regel!" Nick screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched, pathetic whine as he tried to push his broken armor up from the puddle. "You're alive! You came back for the final phase of the encounter! I knew it! I knew you'd come to help me—"

Egel didn't even allocate a single frame of her peripheral vision to his position. She looked at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated, and absolute corporate disgust—the look of a senior supervisor viewing a fraudulent expense report.

Regel, meanwhile, let out a small, timid squeak, immediately moving behind Kaito's towering dark figure and grabbing a handful of his obsidian cloak, hiding her face from the hero entirely.

Egel marched straight up to Mordecai, completely bypassing Nick's puddle without a word.

"Kaitoyama," Egel said, her deep voice steady.

Kaito looked down at her. Then, responding to an explicit administrative request from the Higher Realms live-stream audience for a high-impact narrative spite sequence, he slowly opened his dark sleeves.

Egel lunged forward, her powerful arms wrapping tightly around his neck, her face burying into his high collar. Kaito brought his right hand down, his legendary leather glove resting firmly and securely against her muscular hip, locking her against his torso in a flawless, high-fidelity embrace of absolute ownership, making Egel moan a little. (Villain Things)

In that moment, Nick's face turned from a ghastly white to a translucent, sickly shade of grey.

His jaw fell completely open, his cognitive parameters experiencing a total, unmitigated system error as his entire reality was violently restructured. The absolute realization that his primary vanguard asset—the muscle mommy who had carried his defensive metrics for three consecutive months—had just been comprehensively NTR'd by the antagonist tore through his remaining identity like an industrial saw.

"No..." Nick whispered, his fingers scraping uselessly against the wet stone. "No... not you..."

Mordecai looked down at the kneeling fraud over Egel's shoulder, a cold, clinical smile cutting through his handsome, AI-optimized jawline.

"These two assets are now the exclusive property of the Ravenloft Holdings logistics and defense divisions," Mordecai stated, his bass voice dripping with a freezing, elegant irony. "And their contracts are absolutely non-transferable," Mordecai said, while Egel kept nuzzling into his neck and caressing his jawline.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: USER NTR_LOVER69 HAS OFFICIALLY SUBBED TO RAVENLOFT HOLDINGS™ AND DONATED 100000 SOUL COINS TO LEAVE A CUSTOM MESSAGE]

[VIP USER: NTR_LOVER69: LET'S GOOOOO! LET'S FUCKING GO! GET CUCKED NICK!]

Nick opened his mouth to scream, but his resource pool was too depleted to generate an audio signal.

In that exact frame, from the deep shadows near the throne dais, an explosion of crimson fire erupted into the air.

BOOM.

Pyroas’s intense, un-scripted jealousy had just manifested as a localized thermodynamic flare, a high-heat column scorching the stone tiles right at her heels. But she forced her fists to clench, her teeth grinding together as she executed a series of deep, controlled breathing exercises to maintain her positioning. She knew it was part of the mandated script, but her internal parameters were red-lining.

Kaito didn't turn his head to look at the flare, but a small translucent pop-up materialized in his left retina.

[WARNING: CLICHÉ NAUSEA PASSIVE DEBUFF ACTIVATED]

[EFFECT: PROTAGONIST-LEVEL HAREM JALOUSY DETECTED IN IMMEDIATE SECTOR. MANAGEMENT SATURATION DECREASED BY 15%.]

[SYSTEM NOTE: LMAO, CHILL OUT EDGELORD, WE'RE NOT IN A NTR DOUJIN]

'I got carried away, damn,' Kaito muttered internally, his violet eyes narrowing slightly as he held Egel's waist.

Then, Nick, psychologically destroyed, slowly rolled his head toward Princess Pyroetta, who was still loosely attached to that stone.

"Princess..." Nick wheezed, a thin line of blood and sweat dripping down his nose. "Princess... Pyroetta... I'm sorry... I failed... I couldn't save you..."

The princess slowly raised her head, and a smile spread across her face: the sharp, razor-thin grin of a senior executive closing an incredibly successful hostile takeover.

"Rescue... me?" Pyroetta asked, her voice dropping into a cool, smooth, and terrifyingly calculated register.

With a single, fluid movement of her shoulders, she stepped directly forward. The thick, standard-compliant ropes that Kaito had personally inspected fell away from her form, hitting the stone floor with a dry, hollow thud. Then, her entire visual model began to flicker with high-fidelity crimson energy, the room's red lighting concentrating around her skin like a high-end particle effect.

The mosquito's clothes dissolved entirely into a shower of digital sparks. Beneath the cosmetic layer, she was wearing the sharp, tailored, and high-durability uniform of Pyroas, the First Flame—the official Chief of Staff of Ravenloft Holdings.

"Did your limited cognitive processing genuinely believe that an elite administrative asset would allow herself to be salvaged by a narcissistic, low-tier influencer who buys fake bot followers and uses chemical additives to compromise girls in hotel rooms?" Pyroas hissed, her voice cutting through the Dolby Surround like a scalpel. "You are utterly pathetic, Nick. Your existence is a joke."

Nick's mouth remained wide open, his eyes staring blankly at the uniform lapels. He had completely run out of system capacity to process plot twists.

Pyroas adjusted her crimson hair, marching over to stand directly at Kaito's right flank, her posture rigid and professional.

"The employee voting sequence is officially complete, Mordecai," Pyroas announced, her voice sharp.

"I am aware," Kaito replied.

Scrik Scrik

In that moment, a Skeleton Janitor had arrived out of nowhere, cleaning the floor with his [SSSS Ordinary Mop].

Everyone looked at him, and once he realized that everyone's eyes were on him, he just gave a 👍 and continued cleaning, moving to the corners of the room.

"Don't mind him, just let him work and don't touch his spoons," Mordecai said to all the adventurers, his voice returning to normal for an instant.

This time, Jin didn't have a PTSD attack, luckily.

Then, our beloved Fake Necromancer slowly released Egel’s waist, stepping forward until he was standing exactly one meter above the kneeling fraud, and raised his left hand, his silver quill manifesting between his fingers like a conductor's baton. Egel had slowly stepped back from Kaito's torso, but her hands remained resting against his dark obsidian lapels.

"Before we proceed with the final execution of your severance package, Nick," Kaito said, his bass voice dropping an octave as his awakened violet eyes bored into the hero's soul. "The Higher Realms have requested a final, un-mediated communication window. Let's review their real-time performance feedback."

He flicked his wrist and a massive, three-dimensional holographic screen erupted in the air the puddle, displaying the live chat interface of the Higher Realms premium stream. The text was scrolling downward at high speed, thousands of blue frames illuminating the damp walls of the chamber.

Nick's bloodshot eyes forced themselves to read the scrolling text data:

[HIGHER REALMS LIVE CHAT]

Anon345: "Nick, you're so pathetic that not even your sword wants to be with you anymore. Your party's abandoned you, and you're about to lose the little dignity you have left. Break a leg, Nick."

Weirdisaac: "If I had to choose between you and watching paint dry, I'd be sitting in front of a wall."

4da$: "Even Larry can't clean up your mistakes."

voobwig: "He charms with fake tales,

boots squeak louder than his lies—

…the “scent” gives him away.

Piollo is a master of overpromising, underdelivering, and overstaying his welcome—leaving behind a trail of weak excuses, awkward silences, and air quality concerns that no performance review can politely ignore"

chlorine_water: "I've written an entire book on how ridiculous you are. I’ve only tuned in to the last couple of broadcasts, but I can already tell you are just such a loser.

The sheer amount of miasma oozing off of your very name shakes me to my core.

That very aura of degeneracy is equivalent to the stench of a discord mod, except I don’t even have to be around you to experience it. In this way, you eclipse even such discord mods, something I’m sure you are proud of. You are a Neanderthal, muppet, a troglodyte and an ignoramus of the highest order. You are so dim witted you probably can’t even read half the words if typed out, so why do I even bother? It’s simple. The very presence of your existence has done irreparable damage to my psyche, it enraged me to my very core. Despite the fact that you probably can’t even register the degree of my hatred for you, the extent of my burning wrath necessitates an outlet, lest it burst forth in a scream of pure caustic agony.

You, Nick, are a terrible curse upon any and all who know of you. The world, nay, the universe would benefit greatly from the removal of your existence. Even then, the taint of your presence would linger for eons, causing harm to all who are unfortunate enough to tread where you have. My words alone simply cannot contain the depths of my disgust, revulsion, and loathing.

As such, I must borrow the words of a man far better at expression than I, a true master of the art of insulting. Quoting from Shakespeare; ‘A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch.’”

MicroShock: EHHHH. WHAT'S UP FART. You're so useless Larry is higher than you on the pecking chain.

Sallad: "Pio boy literally has had two swords fail on him. At this point, he should stop trying to play with swords and go be a rehabilitated eunuch; he’s halfway there already."

DracoLazarus: "Numb of skull, dumb of ass, limp of dick, a hollow, puffed-up man who let the air that filled him beyond reason out with every flatulence until he finally fell flat.

So long, Piollo. Your screen time, like your ego, has let out its final squeak."

Kaz_Simp: "You bought followers in a fantasy world without a regional Wi-Fi infrastructure. That is a truly specialized, historical category of stupid."

NTR_Lover69: "Your only remaining active subscriber is the primeval freshwater fish that Waterfall tried to drown in Sector 2. And based on the current frame-data, even the fish is actively reconsidering its investment alignment.

Larry_Simp_01: "Nick, your account isn't even worth a standard-tier response token. The skeletal janitor has significantly more narrative value than your entire character arc. And he doesn't even possess an audio dialogue track."

Vesta_Enjoyer: "Your legendary armor squeaks louder than your professional dignity during a compliance review."

GoonerLord99: "Piollo."

Cassandra_Staff: "Poopy-boy."

OSHA_Inspector: "Fart Hero of the Sun Realm."

Larry_Simp_01: "Larry sends his professional regards. 👍"

Nick read every single line of text data. The color completely drained from his lips, his skin turning the dull, solid grey of wet cement, and the final remnants of his shonen pride crumbled into the puddle.

Large, uncinematic tears began to flow freely from his eyes, mixing with the mud on his cheeks as he let out a broken, ragged sob. He had finally realized that he couldn't be saved.

"I... I should have taken your girlfriend back in Tokyo! Nick screamed, his voice escalating into a vicious, desperate, and utterly pathetic roar of raw malice. "I should have broken her before that truck hit us—!"

In that moment, the room went completely dead silent.

Kaito didn't even reply.

He took a single, efficient step forward, closed his right hand into a solid, ungloved fist, and delivered a swift, mathematically optimized punch directly into the center of Nick's nasal geometry. This mechanical suggestion had been transmitted from behind the scenes by subscriber dibbs57.

CRACK.

The heavy, metallic sound of the physical impact echoed through the 7.1 Dolby Surround channels with absolute clarity.

Nick's head snapped backward, his broken armor clinking violently against the stone as he collapsed flat onto his back in the puddle, dark crimson blood instantly erupting from his nostrils and staining his pristine blond hair.

"Oh, sorry, this one was completely personal, Nick," He said, cleaning his hand.

"Y-You... I'll kill you....!" Nick tried to say.

Mordecai stood directly over the bleeding, broken non-entity, looking down at him with his twin violet eyes glowing like two dying stars. Then he slowly raised his right palm, the air in his immediate vicinity warping and vibrating as a dense, ancient purple mana pool pulsed from his skin.

"I’ll see you in the capital, Piollo," Kaito whispered, his voice dangerously low.

The system interface immediately entered an absolute panic state, blue holographic error text flashing across everyone's field of vision with intense volatility.

[CRITICAL SKILL ACTIVATION: ALDMAX'S DEMONIC DISMISSAL]

[SKILL CATEGORY: FORBIDDEN META-ART INHERITED DIRECTLY FROM ALDMAX, THE ORIGINAL DIRECTOR.]

[MANA COST: 40% OF TOTAL MULTI-TIER MANA POOL.]

[WARNING: THIS ADMINISTRATIVE ACTION CANNOT BE REVERSED OR PATCHED BY BALANCING HOTFIXES. TARGET WILL BE COMPREHENSIVELY REMOVED FROM THE CURRENT TIMELINE MATRIX.]

Kaito closed his eyes for exactly one frame, his internal calculations aligning with the ancient code parameters. When his irises snapped open, the violet light was blinding, illuminating the entire ruined boss room.

Every single adventurer stood still, knowing that Mordecai wouldn't hurt them. Egel was breathing heavily, her hand occasionally touching her waist where Moredacai's hands were.

'Do I really have to say this cringeworthy line?' Mordecai thought, while the magic words appeared right in front of his retinas.

"By the operational authority vested in my position by the system..." Kaito chanted, his bass-baritone voice resonating through the stone channels like a structural tremor. "By the raw data inherited from the one who walked the path before my onboarding... by the collective will of every single asset you have systematically exploited and abandoned..."

He extended his palm down toward Nick's bleeding face.

"Nick... your contract with this world has reached its definitive termination," Kaito announced, his voice carrying the weight of an executioner's block dropping into place. "Your narrative access is revoked. Your story is over."

The compressed violet fire exploded outward from his hand.

Nick opened his mouth to execute a final shonen scream, but the immense acoustic density of the meta-spell completely swallowed the sound. His physical character model began to fragment into tiny, low-resolution pixels, dissolving frame by frame from the toes upward, as if he were being violently backspaced out of a text editor document.

Before the violet light could consume his cranial parameters completely, a lean, skeletal figure stepped into the center of the particle effect.

Larry.

The legendary janitor bent down over the dissolving hero. He raised his ancient, bone fingers—still encased in his pristine yellow rubber gloves—and gently executed a twice-repeated patting gesture directly on Nick's messy blond hair.

Pat. Pat.

Then Larry stood perfectly straight, faced the higher realms' live-stream camera viewport, and slowly raised his right thumb into the air.

👍 [Legendary Thumbs-up]

The last thing Nick saw were the bone fingers, the rubber gloves, and the final thumbs-up mechanic.

And then... his file allocation reached zero. There was absolutely nothing left.

In that moment, the blinding violet light died down, leaving nothing but a faint smell of burnt ozone and lavender floor wax in the center of the damp puddle. The Chosen Hero was officially and entirely removed from the sector's active database.

In that moment, Egel looked up into Mordecai's sharp, handsome face, and a provocative, predatory smirk cutting through her cheeks.

"We’ll continue our combat engagement in the bedroom sector, Kaitoyama," Egel rumbled, her voice holding a deep, playful martial arts resonance.

Kaito didn't alter his facial expression or blush like an idiot harem main character. He reached down, removed her fingers from his lapel with clinical efficiency, and ignored her completely as he checked his ledger.

Pyroas, however, did not ignore the parameters of the exchange.

Instantly, a third, significantly louder explosion of crimson fire erupted from beneath her high-heeled uniform boots, scorching a four-foot circle of masonry into fine black ash. Her hair bristled with heat, her teeth grinding together so hard that a tiny spark escaped her lips.

Kaito slowly turned his head to look at his Chief of Staff.

"Pyroas," Mordecai said, his tone flat. "The script."

Pyroas exhaled a long plume of white steam, her chest heaving as she forced her crimson aura back into the constraints of her uniform.

"I am aware of my contract compliance boundaries, Mordecai," Pyroas hissed through her teeth, her fingers tensing against her administrative clipboard. "...I know the script."

The system interface suddenly emitted a loud, triumphant, and high-volume chime that filled the Dolby Surround channels with orchestral energy.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: REVENGE QUEST COMPLETE!]

[PRIMARY TARGET: CHOSEN HERO NICK — EXCISED ENTIRELY FROM ACTIVE NARRATIVE FILE]

[REWARD ALLOCATION: +500.000 EXP, NEW AMINISTRATIVE TITLE UNLOCKED: 'THE AUDITOR OF FATE']

[CURRENT OVERARCHING OBJECTIVE UPDATED]

[NEXT OBJECTIVE: CONQUER YOUR FIRST PRIMARY CAPITAL CITY]

[TARGET SECTOR: OAKHAVEN, THE CAPITAL OF DARKNESS]

[USER KENZU SUGGESTED TO OPEN A LIVE STREAM TO EXPOSE NICK'S DISMISSAL, SECRETS, AND FAILURES. IT WOULD BE THE PERFECT CHANCE TO ANNOUNCE ALDMAX'S RETURN AND PROOF OF HIS VICTORY OVER THE HERO. IT COULD ALSO SERVE TRIPLE DUTY AS A RECRUITING ANNOUNCEMENT FOR RAVENLOFT HOLDINGS.]

Kaito read the blue holographic text blocks, a faint, calculated smile touching his lips as he closed his status menu. 'Oh, that is such a brilliant idea... But I was thinking about something much worse,'

Then, he turned his torso around to face the massive crowd of adventurers standing near the PVC doors.

Kaz, Kashime, Jin, Luna, Waterfall, Meg, Light, Dusk, Sunrise, Lucretia, the Bunny Girl, and Yeu. Along with Egel, Regel, and Pyroas. Every single high-tier asset and generic NPC in the sector was aligned in front of his dais.

The entire crowd, observing the complete and utter liquidation of the server's hero, simultaneously sank into a deep, submissive martial-arts bow of absolute loyalty to the new management.

Kaito immediately raised his hand, his bass voice cutting through their movement.

"There is absolutely no requirement for physical submission within this corporate framework," Mordecai announced, his voice smooth and welcoming. "Your onboarding documentation packages are currently being managed in the corridor. Proceed down the hallway, turn to your far right, and request the application forms from Brenda. Once the paperwork is formatted, we will proceed with our collective march toward the primary capital."

The adventurers stood perfectly still for one frame, processing the sheer, comfortable simplicity of the directive.

Then, the entire chamber erupted into a massive, deafening, and synchronized roar of absolute joy.

"HORRAYYY!" the crowd shouted in chorus, their weapons raised into the air as they began to enthusiastically chat about their new retirement plans, healthcare coverage, and the breakroom's sparkling water parameters.

Kaito watched them move toward the exit door, a tired, thoroughly satisfied smile settling onto his handsome face.

The entire alliance faction was marching out to execute its next phase of expansion. They were completely oblivious to the fact that they hadn't completed a heroic raid encounter; they had been systematically conquered and placed on the payroll of the narrative's primary villain.

"NORMAL RESTROOMS! FINALLY!" Kaz exclaimed in pure joy while walking.

Meanwhile, Kaito adjusted the silver cuffs of his obsidian robes, preparing to step off the central dais and follow his new staff toward the logistical corridor.

"Mordecai-sama," a sharp, icy voice called out from the threshold.

He stopped, his cloak rustling softly as he turned his head to check the perimeter.

Luna, the dark elf, was standing near the potted ficus tree. Her leather-bound notebook was still tucked securely under her arm, but her silver fountain pen was capped. She wasn't documenting anymore. She was staring directly into his twin violet irises with no fear, her sharp, elegant face holding a strange, deep clarity that no longer contained a single frame of purely professional calculation.

"May I... submit a final, un-scripted inquiry regarding your management background?" Luna asked, her purple eyes remaining fixed on his face.

Mordecai didn't offer a verbal response. But he didn't turn his back on her position either. He stood there in the quiet shadows of the room, his violet eyes glowing softly as the frame froze into place, curious about what she was about to say.

In that moment, the narrative horizon reached its absolute cliffhanger boundary.

—

—[SCENE POST-CREDITS: LOGISTICAL AFTERMATH]—

The massive boss chamber returned to total, unmediated stillness.

The alliance staff had fully evacuated the sector to complete their mandatory onboarding files with Brenda. Princess Pyroas had marched down to the legal offices to ensure the contract parameters for the capital expansion were properly drafted. The brilliant violet fires had faded, leaving only the dim, energy-saving ambient light tubes to illuminate the masonry blocks.

Only Larry remained in the center of the ruined room.

He looked at the pulverized granite blocks, the broken metal lockers, and the dark puddle where the Chosen Hero's file had been permanently closed. His empty socket-eyes scanned the immense layout with a deep, silent sense of professional satisfaction regarding the upcoming cleanup shift.

Then, he looked directly at the higher realms' live-stream camera viewport. (He always registered its spatial orientation parameters.)

He adjusted his apron. He tightened his [SSSSSSSSSSSS Ordinary Yellow Rubber Gloves] and gripped his mop.

Scrik. Scrik. Scrik.

The clean, rhythmic sound of the mop clearing the stone dust filled the empty chamber as he continued his work.

He stopped for a single frame, faced the lens, and raised his white bone thumb into the air once more.

👍

[HIGHER REALMS LIVE CHAT - POST CREDITS]

NTR_Lover69: "EGEL COLDLY DECLARED 'WE WILL CONTINUE THE ENGAGEMENT IN THE BEDROOM' AND MY BOY KAITO JUST MANUALLY REMOVED HER FINGERS AND IGNORED THE MONOLOGUE LIKE A REAL SENIOR EXEC! THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE HIGHEST SPECIMEN OF TSUNDERE MANAGEMENT IN THE ECOSYSTEM! 10/10 REVENUE GENERATION!"

Larry_Simp_01: "Larry executing the double head-pat (*Pat Pat*) on Nick's face right before his character model is backspaced out of the server database, and then giving that pristine thumbs-up 👍 directly to our retinas! HE IS THE UNARGUEABLE PROTAGONIST OF THIS LIGHT NOVEL FR!"

Kaz_Simp: "Kaz voting 'Liquidate him' without a single frame of hesitation because of the fake bot followers parameter. He understands the platform metrics better than the hero ever did. Long live our new project manager!

Luna_Fan_01: "Luna stopping at the PVC door to submit an un-scripted inquiry with that deep look in her crimson eyes... AND THE CHAPTER IMMEDIATELY TRANSLATES INTO A CLIFFHANGER! WHAT EXACTLY IS SHE STRATEGIZING?! MY COMPLIANCE ANXIOUSNESS IS RED-LINING!"

Jin_Defense_Squad: "Jin held his shadow puppy and looked directly at the boss without experiencing a psychological breakdown frame-rate error. Our boy has officially upgraded his emotional resilience metrics! The unionization of his shadow army was a necessary sacrifice!"

Pyroas_Simp: "Pyroas literally executing two distinct thermodynamic explosions out of raw, unfiltered jealousy but forcing her frame to comply because 'it’s the mandated script' is the most relatable asset behavior this quarter. She needs a premium bonus payout immediately."

SystemAdmin: "Nick wasn't just deleted; his entire narrative contract was permanently terminated via [Demonic Dismissal]. There is no backup file. There is no redemption arc in the next volume. He is officially a Level 1 beggar in the capital logs. Absolute cosmic balance achieved."

Larry_Simp_01: "Scrik. Scrik. Scrik. 👍 The broom remains undefeated, colleagues. See you all in Oakhaven for the corporate city takeover!"