They destroyed the next two pillars without incident, earning yet another two debuffs in the process.

  

  >> NEW DEBUFF: Cost–Benefit Analysis!

  All abilities that require Belch Bucks cost 5% more to trigger.

  

  >> NEW DEBUFF: Communication Expenditure!

  All uses of direct chat will incur a small fee.

  As they moved to the next pillar, Pete moved up next to Sam.

  "That thing with the chains," he said, "it's new, right?"

  She nodded. "Turns out I can control them. It's kind of like possession, I guess. I can feel the chains like they're my own arms, and I can make them do pretty much whatever I want."

  "That would be the 'binder' part of Woe Binder, I guess," Pete mused.

  Sam chuckled in response. "I originally thought that had more to do with binding Wolfy and other summoned creatures, but I think you're right. It takes a lot out of me, though. I have to concentrate the whole time I'm controlling the chains, and I think some of the damage they cause comes back at me."

  "Super useful though," Pete mused. "To be able to pin an enemy like that."

  "Yeah, I just have to remember not to take on anything too big. Damned car was hard enough to hold. I don't think I'd be able to pin anything bigger. Not without getting some more attribute points."

  They took aim and fired at the next pillar, sending chains, hellhound, and a charged arrow toward the concrete column as Ollie and the goblins added their efforts to the task. Ollie brushed aside the lingering chunks of concrete that clung to a dark stone statue that was revealed after the destruction of the pillar. The statue showed an outstretched hand holding several Belch Bucks coins in it.

  

  >> NEW BOON

  Performance Bonus: Each initial successful hit against an enemy deals a small amount of bonus damage.

  "This whole challenge doesn't make sense," Pete said, shaking his head. "All these minor boons and debuffs. They're not enough to seriously help or hurt us, so what's the point?"

  "Advertising," Craig offered. "There has been very little of it in the game to date, but now that we have reached the novice arena, advertisers are beginning to take advantage of it."

  "Seriously?" Pete asked. "Feels like it's been nothing but ads since this damned thing started."

  [Nero] Craig is quite correct. There are limits on the amount of advertising permitted during the preliminary phase of the contest, but now that players have entered the novice arena, those restrictions are lifted. You will find that advertisements, product placement, and even in-game commercials will become more prevalent as you continue.

  "That's ridiculous," Pete protested. "It's bad enough as it is. If it gets worse..."

  [Nero] It may be best to think of it as simply another challenge to overcome, Pete. For societies that are unaccustomed to this level of commerciality, facing the reality of Dominion advertising can be quite bracing.

  "Oh, I'm used to advertising," Pete insisted. "It's everywhere here on Earth. Any chance a company has to slap a patch on someone's shirt, or a bumper sticker, or stick the latest car into a cop show, or throw an actor on the news to push their brand of vodka, we'll do it. But this is another level. I mean, ads within ads? Death game shows and mountains of merchandise? From what I've heard, most people in the Dominion can't even afford most of this shit."

  "Quite the opposite in many cases," Craig said. "In the mines, many of us were paid in Tongsly Belch goods or those of partner companies. Those families who are heavily indebted are unable to gain money while their debts exist, so the Company pays them in basic food and clothing, often using damaged merchandise that is unable to be sold to customers with the means to buy. The vast majority of their income is simply deducted and applied to their debts."

  "Yeah, but I mean all the t-shirts and portraits and all that crap. I'm guessing most people can't afford to buy that shit."

  "We are encouraged to do precisely that," Grizzle said, a sorrowful expression coming across her face. "Even those of us that are in extreme debt are able to sacrifice some of what we have to earn Belch Bucks that can be used to purchase novelty items or to wager on the Dominion Ultrimax Contest. For every food item or item of clothing you trade for Belch Bucks, you are rewarded with more coin than each item is technically worth."

  "Wait," Sam said. "The poor get hand-me-downs instead of money, but they can trade them in for cash?"

  Grizzle nodded. "If you are willing to go without food for a meal or two, you can trade those food items for coin."

  "And you can use that to pay off your debt?" Pete asked.

  The goblin shook her head. "No. Money gained by trading resources can only be used to purchase other items or to wager on the contest."

  "Can you use it to buy better food, though?" Pete pressed. "So, you trade in a moldy piece of cheese for something better?"

  "No. Such funds can only be used to purchase frivolous items such as game merchandise. The items purchased can, however, be traded, and some are able to gain Belch Bucks, which can be applied against their loans."

  "The process is strictly governed, I'm afraid. There are a good number of laws and statutes that control which items or services can be purchased using funds gained in this manner. Technically, credits are earned when trading in basic food or clothing items. They are not truly Belch Bucks but credit marks that can be used to purchase certain goods. Thus, there are limits on what such credits can purchase."

  "Consumption is rewarded above all," Craig confirmed. "The more you purchase, the more benefit you gain. Ultimately, however, you are rewarded primarily for purchases, trades, and upgrades, not for paying off your debts. Thus, the cycle continues, and many Dominion citizens fall further and further into poverty while they sacrifice what little they have in order to purchase pointless items or wager on the game in the hope of winning sufficient coin to dig their way out of slavery.

  "Okay then," Sam said. "Why not just buy a bunch of crap and resell it, then use the money to steadily pay off your debt?"

  Craig smiled sadly. "Because the debt grows far quicker than our capacity to pay it off. Interest is applied to such an extent that, even if we were awarded a full wage, it would be insufficient in most cases to keep up with interest payments, let alone pay off the principal debt. Remember, debts are transferred from family member to family member upon death. So, it is possible to inherit an impossibly large debt when a relative dies without your having done anything to deserve it."

  "What about unions?" Pete asked, the word slipping from his mouth without him even realizing it.

  The stricken look on Craig's face spoke volumes, but Pete continued anyway. This was what Liandra had asked for, so now that he'd blurted it out, he figured he might as well press the point.

  "Don't you have some kind of worker representation you can use to get better wages, or at least get paid for your work instead of being given shitty leftovers?"

  The goblins turned to one another, eyes wide, mouths hanging open.

  [Nero] Pete, I would counsel against using such language. That word is illegal! Even to think it is forbidden, much less speak the word.

  "What?" Pete asked, feigning ignorance. "Union?"

  Craig and the others recoiled as though struck.

  [Nero] Please, Pete. You fail to understand the significance of that word. It is perhaps the most incendiary thing you could say. There is a grave history of war and terror associated with that word that you cannot hope to appreciate. More pressing still, uttering the word is punishable by death!

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  [Sam-Private-Pete] Okay, you said it. Maybe you should dial it back now. [Message Cost 100 Belch Bucks].

  Something stirred inside Pete, some impulse toward rebellion that rose from within; a need to push despite the obvious danger.

  "How can a word be forbidden?" Pete asked. "It's not like just by saying the word union that I'm committing treason or something."

  [Nero] It is precisely that, Pete! Mentioning that word is absolutely an act of treason according to Dominion law. By speaking it aloud, you have opened yourself up to severe consequences.

  Pete chuckled at that. "Severe consequences, huh? Like being thrown into a deathmatch-type game where everything is trying to kill me? Honestly, I've been threatened with death so many times now, the idea is starting to lose its meaning."

  [Sam-Private-Pete] What the hell are you doing? [Message Cost 100 Belch Bucks].

  [Pete-Private-Sam] I'm pushing. The System hasn't killed me yet, and my guess is I'm making the Company too much money for them to just end my run right now. [Message Cost 100 Belch Bucks].

  [Sam-Private-Pete] It's not your 'run'; it's your damned life, Pete! And it's not just you that could get the chop here. What about the rest of us? [Message Cost 100 Belch Bucks].

  "The people of the Dominion are getting routinely screwed by the Tonglsy Belch Company and all of these dumb rules and regulations," Pete went on. "The same thing has happened here on Earth. If you don't force a company to give its workers better conditions and better pay, the company won't do it. They'll just keep squeezing until there's nothing left. Profit above all, right? I know that unions aren't always that great, and they can cause problems too, but I'm just saying, if you had a union in place, you might be able to more effectively—

  [Nero] STOP SAYING THAT WORD!

  Ollie chuckled.

  

  >> WARNING: VERBAL FELONY COMMITTED!

  You have spoken a forbidden word and thus earned immediate punishment. Dominion citizens caught speaking treasonous words are to be summarily executed!

  Pete grinned. If that was the case, why hadn't the System already killed him? Why had he been allowed to say the word union over and over without consequence?

  "Union," he said, still smirking.

  

  >> WARNING: TREASONOUS ACTIONS UNDERTAKEN!

  You have repeated a treasonous act by uttering a forbidden word which—

  "What? You mean the word union?"

  

  >> WARNING: TREASONOUS ACTS REPEATED!

  Cease all treasonous acts immediately, or you will be disintegrated!

  "Bro, you're gonna give the System an aneurysm!" Ollie barked.

  [Nero] Please, Pete. For my sake, for the sake of your fellow players, please stop!

  [Sam-Private-Pete] You've proven your point, and you've done what Liandra asked. That's enough now. Let's just see what happens next. [Message Cost 100 Belch Bucks].

  Pete turned to face Sam. Some part of him wanted to keep pressing, wanted to show those listening and watching on the feeds that he wasn't scared of the System or the Company or anything else. The truth was, he was deathly afraid that they'd take out his insolence on his mother, but Pete wasn't about to show that weakness.

  He nodded, holding up both hands.

  "Fine. It was just a suggestion. Come on, let's head to the next pillar."

  

  >> PENALTY PENDING!

  Player, Vault Breaker, you have committed multiple treasonous acts, each of which is punishable by immediate disintegration. However, because you are not technically a Dominion citizen, you are subject to Ultrimax Contest strictures rather than the laws that govern the Dominion citizenry.

  As such, your punishment is to be determined by the incoming Overseer. You will be notified of this punishment shortly.

  Pete frowned. "New Overseer. Already?"

  "I guess they don't waste time," Ollie mused. "One out, next one in."

  Pete nodded. "Seems like my execution has been deferred at least."

  [Nero] A stroke of luck, indeed. Though postponement is not the same as dismissal, Pete. You are indeed lucky that you weren't executed on the spot, but that is not to say that this new Overseer won't deliver an identical judgment.

  "Won't happen," Pete said, shaking his head and feeling a certainty rising from within.

  "Why do you say that?" Craig asked, panic still evident across his face.

  "Because I'm the money maker!" Pete said, thrusting his hands out wide and looking up at the ceiling as though the new Overseer was positioned up there somewhere. "Because they printed a butt-load of merch with my face all over it and we're the hot ticket for the novice arena at the moment. In this part of the world at least. Look."

  He pulled his communications device from his inventory and navigated to the Ultrifeed application, pressing the button to broadcast the details to the whole party.

  

  >> FOLLOWERS: 5.5 Million

  >> VIEWS: 2.1 Billion

  >> LIKES: 10.3 Million

  >> SPONSOR BOOKMARKS: 350

  >> ACTIVE SPONSORS: 3

  "We've only been in this contest for a couple of days, and I'm guessing these are pretty impressive numbers for a novice player, right, Nero?"

  [Nero] Well, yes, that is correct. As I have mentioned previously, often the System will pick a few entertaining players early on in the game and will make them the focus of special attention. The System has clearly chosen you and your party for this dubious privilege.

  "Which makes us more likely to get killed," Pete said. "But it also means a bunch of attention. So, if we don't get killed, then the System will do everything it can to keep us playing, because that will mean more views, more merchandise, and more profit, which is the only thing the fucking Tongsly Belch Corporation cares about, right?"

  [Nero] The matter is not nearly as simple as you put it, Pete. However, I concede the validity of your argument, to some extent at least.

  "Right. So, the System isn't gonna kill me for saying some forbidden word because that would be completely unsatisfying to everyone watching the feeds. If I'm gonna die, it will need to be as part of the game."

  "But the System could just kill you in the game then, like it killed Coop," Sam said.

  Pete shook his head. "No. That wasn't the System. That was Greedwell."

  "But the System allowed Greedwell to use overpowered weapons," Sam insisted. "The System allowed the Overseer to create impossible odds that we were never going to be able to overcome unless Coop sacrificed herself."

  

  >> TOTAL DEPRECIATION: 27.5%

  >> TIME TO CLEAR LEVEL: 1 hr 55 mins

  "No point arguing about this shit," Ollie said, moving to the next concrete column. "We should keep going with the pillars."

  They did as Ollie suggested, destroying the next pillar in the line and revealing a stone statue that showed a cross symbol with two small coins off to one side.

  

  >> NEW DEBUFF: Service Charge!

  All healing costs 5% more to trigger.

  "So much for the advertising theory," Sam said as they all moved to the next pillar. "Seems like it's just more debuffs."

  "Well, on to the next one, anyway," Ollie said, twirling his maul around in one hand. "I've got a good feeling about this one."

  As they prepared to attack, Sam moved up close to Pete, whispering out of the corner of her mouth.

  "What the hell was that about, back before?"

  He drew an arrow and prepared to shoot. "You know. I was doing what I was told to do."

  "Yes, but you just kept pushing. Like you have a death wish or something."

  "I don't have a death wish. I just...I guess I wanted to call the System's bluff. I'm so sick of getting pushed around, shoved from one insane situation to the next. I guess...I just wanted to show them that we can't just be treated like shit all the time."

  It felt like a pathetic kind of rebellion to Pete, but it was something at least. Some way to punch back, to punish the System and the Corporation for what they'd done to Coop and Sam, and Pete's mother, and everyone else for that matter. Pete knew that it probably wouldn't make any difference in the long run. In fact, pushing the whole union idea further than he needed to would likely get him and his crew killed as soon as the System could work out a thrilling enough way to make it happen.

  "I just wanted to hit back," he said. "Just once."

  "I get it," Sam replied, twisting the fingers of her hands and wrapping skull chains around the pillar as Wolfy barked and charged, scraping his teeth against the concrete with Ollie popping his area of effect damage ability nearby. "Just remember that it's not just you that gets hit when shit goes down. Coop is gone, but we're still here. It doesn't make sense to let her sacrifice mean nothing."

  Pete fired, sending a shard of light and power from his bow into the center point of the pillar. Stone shattered, breaking apart the moment the arrow struck. As was his custom, Ollie followed up with a huge swing of his maul, clearing away the lingering chunks of concrete to reveal something unexpected.

  Instead of a black stone statue or a holographic advertisement, an image of two bright yellow dice hung in the air at the center of where the pillar had stood.

  

  >> MYSTERY BOX MANIA MINI GAME!

  That's right, folks, all this pillar bashing is getting a little boring, so we're throwing a little spice into the dish with the first Mystery Box mini-game of the contest! The rules are simple. Each player chooses a box and decides whether they want to open it or lose a finger. It's as simple as that!

  For those without fingers, we'll take a tentacle, a node, a puff of vapor, or whatever spare appendage that's available. As long as it's not terminal, we're game.

  The audience laughed and cheered, clearly already knowing the rules of the game and delighted at being allowed to watch it unfold before their eyes.

  

  >> And what kind of delights can we expect to find in a box? It could be an enraged alligator or a cantankerous houseplant! It might be a bowl filled with marbles or a cat turd wrapped in aluminum foil! Perhaps it's a piece of advanced armor or a potent weapon? It could be a powerful relic or an elevator key, who knows!

  There's only one way to find out, so let's get playing Mystery Box Mania!

  Applause suddenly came from all around them as rows of holographic seating appeared on all sides, populated with hundreds of aliens all waving, clapping, or thrusting foam weapons in the air. As with the race, the aliens all wore a baffling array of t-shirts boasting different cartoon images of Pete and his party. Some even wore black t-shirts with an image of Coop with her eyes closed and RIP written in block letters above the ferret.

  A squat, toad-like figure rose through a hole in the floor, one hand upheld as he reached ground level just in front of Pete. The figure stood only a little taller than Craig, but its bulk was prodigious, composed of a large belly and a massive, wide head with bulbous eyes bugging out above a broad mouth. The toad-thing was dressed in a three-piece tweed suit complete with a tie and pocket square with a golden handkerchief.

  Despite his meticulous dress, the toad was slick with sweat that ran in rivulets down from his bald brow and swelled at the armpits and chest. The figure grinned broadly, holding a microphone in one hand as the surrounding crowd continued to roar and cheer in delight.

  "Greetings!" the toad said, ignoring Pete and the others as he addressed the crowd.