The Shinjuku Station West Exit looked like a military checkpoint had mated with a corporate office park and produced something profoundly dystopian.
Takeshi arrived at 0745, fifteen minutes early because old habits died hard even when the world ended. The station's massive glass facade—once a monument to Tokyo's architectural ambition—now bristled with Black Company surveillance equipment. Cameras tracked movement across the plaza. Holographic barriers shimmered at every entrance. Armed guards in crisp black suits processed employees through turnstiles that scanned status windows with the efficiency of airport security.
And at the center of it all, a massive holographic sign proclaimed in English and Japanese:
BLACK COMPANY DUNGEON ACCESS POINT
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
TRESPASSERS WILL BE TERMINATED
Takeshi joined the line of Corporate Drones waiting to enter, his briefcase feeling heavier than usual. His status window showed him fully recovered—stamina at 100/100, no debuffs, ready for whatever nightmare awaited in the Undercroft below. He'd spent the night reviewing dungeon survival guides that the Black Company had thoughtfully provided in his dormitory room, complete with mortality statistics broken down by class, level, and party composition.
The numbers weren't encouraging.
"You're the Corporate Drone."
Takeshi turned to find a man about his age studying him with the kind of analytical gaze usually reserved for spreadsheets or stock portfolios. He was tall, well-built, and carried himself with the confidence of someone who'd cleared more than a few dungeons. His status window floated beside him, visible only as a faint shimmer.
[KENJI TANIGUCHI - LEVEL 5]
Class: Vanguard
Corporate Rank: Senior Associate
"Takeshi Yamada," he said, extending a hand. "Level 2."
Kenji's handshake was firm, professional, and lasted exactly the appropriate length of time. "Kenji Taniguchi. I've cleared fifteen dungeons. This is my evaluation for the Management Track." His tone was neutral, but his eyes were calculating. "I assume you're the one with the unique skill that's got management so interested."
"Monopoly," Takeshi confirmed. "Though I'm still figuring out what it actually does."
"Aren't we all." Kenji's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Fair warning—I've been grinding toward this promotion for three months. I'm not planning to let a Level 2 with an untested skill cost me the position."
Takeshi appreciated the honesty, at least. "Fair enough. I'm not planning to die in a subway tunnel, so our interests might align more than you think."
"We'll see." Kenji gestured to two other figures waiting near the deployment zone entrance. "Come on. Might as well meet the rest of the team before Matsumoto-san briefs us."
The first was a woman in her late twenties with sharp features and sharper eyes. She wore her Corporate Drone uniform with the kind of precision that suggested she'd read the dress code manual cover to cover. Her briefcase was newer than Takeshi's, the leather still pristine.
[YUNA KOBAYASHI - LEVEL 3]
Class: Corporate Drone
Corporate Rank: Associate
"Yuna Kobayashi," she said, offering a slight bow instead of a handshake. "Former brand strategist at Mizuki Corporation. I've been analyzing the Black Company's operational structure since integration." She looked at Takeshi with open curiosity. "You're the one who cleared the tutorial in under six hours. Impressive efficiency metrics."
"Lucky timing," Takeshi said. "And desperation."
"Aren't those the same thing in our line of work?" Yuna's smile was wry. "I've cleared three dungeons so far. All with standard Corporate Drone abilities. I'm interested to see what a unique skill brings to the table."
The third member of their team was a stocky man with graying temples and the weathered look of someone who'd spent years reading fine print for a living. He studied Takeshi the way an insurance adjuster might study a suspicious claim.
[HIDEO SAKATA - LEVEL 4]
Class: Bureaucrat
Corporate Rank: Associate
"Hideo Sakata," he said without offering a hand. "Insurance adjuster. Ten years in the industry before the System arrived." He crossed his arms. "I've read the contract terms for the Management Track. The mortality rate is forty-five percent for this evaluation. That means two of us are statistically likely to die today. I'd prefer it not be me."
"That makes four of us," Takeshi said.
"Does it?" Hideo's gaze was uncomfortably direct. "Because from where I'm standing, you're Level 2 with an unproven skill in a dungeon rated for 3-5. The Black Company doesn't waste resources on lost causes, which means they expect your unique skill to compensate for your level deficit. That makes you either invaluable or a liability, and I'm not sure which yet."
Takeshi met his stare. "I survived the tutorial running on fumes and corporate exhaustion. I'm still here. That should count for something."
"Should and does are different things." Hideo glanced at Kenji. "You're the highest level. What's your read on team composition?"
"Suboptimal," Kenji said bluntly. "I'm the only pure combat class. Yuna and Takeshi are support-oriented Corporate Drones. You're a Bureaucrat, which means your skills are probably administrative rather than offensive. Against a Level 6 boss, we're going to struggle."
"Unless we work together," Yuna interjected. "The Black Company is evaluating us individually, but that doesn't mean we can't cooperate. A rising tide lifts all boats."
"Or we all sink together," Hideo muttered.
Before anyone could respond, a commotion erupted at the checkpoint entrance. Takeshi turned to see three figures arguing with the guards—a warrior in mismatched armor, a mage in robes that had seen better days, and a rogue with enough knives strapped to her body to open a cutlery store.
"We're Level 12!" the warrior was shouting. "We've cleared dungeons from Ikebukuro to Odaiba! You're seriously telling us we can't enter because we're not employed?"
The guard's response was perfectly professional and utterly inflexible. "Black Company policy. All dungeon access points are restricted to authorized personnel. If you'd like to apply for employment, there's a recruitment center in Shibuya—"
"We don't want to work for your corporate death cult!" The mage's hands crackled with energy. "This is public infrastructure! You can't just monopolize—"
"Actually, we can." A new voice cut through the argument. Matsumoto Reiko stepped out from the deployment zone, her suit immaculate, her expression professionally pleasant. "The System recognizes territorial claims based on resource investment and infrastructure control. The Black Company has invested significant capital in securing and maintaining this dungeon access point. Therefore, we have exclusive rights to regulate entry."
"That's insane!" the rogue protested. "You're turning survival into a corporate asset!"
"We're establishing order in chaos," Matsumoto corrected. "The alternative is a free-for-all where the strong prey on the weak and resources are wasted through inefficient competition. The Black Company offers structure. Employment. Benefits. If you'd prefer to operate independently, you're free to seek dungeons in uncontrolled territory." Her smile sharpened. "Though I should mention that most of those have significantly higher mortality rates."
The three adventurers exchanged glances. The warrior's hand tightened on her sword hilt, but she didn't draw it. After a long moment, they turned and left, their curses audible even at a distance.
Matsumoto watched them go, then turned to Takeshi's team. "Good morning, Team Alpha-7. I trust you're all prepared for your evaluation?"
"As prepared as we can be," Kenji said.
"Excellent." Matsumoto gestured toward the deployment zone. "Follow me. We have much to discuss before you enter the Undercroft."
The briefing room was a converted ticket office that the Black Company had transformed into a high-tech command center. Holographic displays showed real-time dungeon maps. Surveillance feeds tracked other teams already operating in the Undercroft's upper levels. And on every surface, the Black Company logo gleamed in polished chrome.
Matsumoto pulled up a three-dimensional map of the dungeon. "The Shinjuku Station Undercroft consists of seven levels, each representing a deeper section of the subway system. Your objective is to reach Level 3, install monitoring equipment at designated locations, and defeat the mini-boss guarding the central platform."
"Mini-boss?" Yuna asked. "Not the main boss?"
"The main boss is Level 10 and resides on Level 7. That's beyond your current capabilities." Matsumoto highlighted three locations on the map. "These are your primary objectives. Each monitoring station must be installed and activated. This is mandatory. Your combat performance is secondary to successful installation."
Takeshi studied the map. The monitoring stations were spread across Level 3 in a pattern that looked suspiciously strategic. "These positions would give the Black Company surveillance coverage over the entire level."
"Correct." Matsumoto's expression was approving. "The monitoring equipment serves dual purposes. First, it provides tactical intelligence for future operations. Second, and more importantly, it establishes our legal claim to the dungeon itself."
"Legal claim?" Hideo leaned forward. "The System recognizes property law?"
"The System recognizes investment and infrastructure development." Matsumoto pulled up another display showing a complex web of regulations and precedents. "Territorial claims require three components: physical presence, resource investment, and monitoring capability. The Black Company has been installing surveillance equipment in every dungeon we access. Once we achieve sufficient coverage, we can file formal territorial claims with the System's administrative framework."
"You're trying to own the dungeons," Yuna said slowly.
"We're trying to establish order," Matsumoto corrected. "Uncontrolled dungeons lead to resource conflicts, inefficient exploitation, and unnecessary casualties. The Black Company's model provides structure, safety, and sustainable development. But that requires territorial control." She met each of their eyes in turn. "Your mission today contributes directly to that goal. Install the monitoring equipment. Survive. Return. Those are your objectives, in that order."
Takeshi felt something click in his mind. His Monopoly skill—the passive effect that gave him awareness of supply chains and market access. The Black Company wasn't just interested in what the skill could do. They were interested in what it represented.
Control over resources. Control over access. Control over the new world's economic infrastructure.
"The evaluation," he said. "You're not just testing our combat capability. You're testing whether we can execute strategic objectives under pressure."
"Very good, Yamada-san." Matsumoto's smile was genuine this time. "Combat prowess is valuable, but the Management Track requires more. Initiative. Strategic thinking. The ability to prioritize corporate objectives over personal survival." She pulled up their equipment loadout. "Each of you will carry one monitoring station. They're heavy—approximately fifteen kilograms each—and fragile. If they're damaged before installation, you fail the mission."
Kenji's jaw tightened. "You're sending us into a combat zone carrying fragile equipment that we can't afford to damage or drop."
"Welcome to corporate operations," Matsumoto said cheerfully. "Real-world assignments rarely offer ideal conditions. You'll need to protect your equipment while fighting monsters, navigating hostile terrain, and competing for a single promotion slot." She gestured to a table where four sleek black cases waited. "Your monitoring stations. Handle them carefully."
Takeshi approached the table and picked up one of the cases. The weight was immediately noticeable—not enough to cripple his mobility, but enough to make combat significantly more difficult. His stamina bar dropped from 100 to 92 just from holding it.
"This is going to make fighting interesting," Yuna muttered, hefting her own case.
"That's the point," Hideo said. "They want to see how we handle suboptimal conditions. It's a stress test."
Matsumoto pulled up a final display—a live feed of their status windows. "I'll be monitoring your progress from here. Your performance will be evaluated on multiple metrics: completion time, combat efficiency, equipment preservation, and strategic decision-making. The candidate with the highest overall score receives the Management Track position." She paused. "Questions?"
"What happens if more than two of us die?" Yuna asked.
"Then the survivors split the evaluation based on who contributed most to mission success." Matsumoto's tone was matter-of-fact. "The Black Company values results over sentiment. If you need to make difficult choices regarding team members, make them. We reward efficiency, not heroism."
The room fell silent. Takeshi looked at his three teammates—potential allies, potential competitors, potential corpses. The Black Company had just given them permission to sacrifice each other if it meant completing the mission.
"One more thing," Matsumoto said. "Yamada-san's unique skill is of particular interest to upper management. If his Monopoly ability activates during this mission, I'm authorized to adjust evaluation criteria accordingly." She met Takeshi's eyes. "No pressure, but you're being watched very closely."
Of course I am. Takeshi adjusted his grip on the equipment case. They want to see what Monopoly can do in a dungeon environment. I'm not just being evaluated. I'm being studied.
"Any other questions?" Matsumoto asked.
Silence.
"Then good luck, Team Alpha-7. Try not to die. It creates so much paperwork."
The entrance to the Shinjuku Station Undercroft was a massive escalator descending into darkness. Takeshi stood at the top with his three teammates, equipment case in one hand and briefcase in the other, staring into the abyss that had once been a subway platform.
The System had transformed it into something else entirely.
Blue-green bioluminescent fungi grew along the walls, casting everything in an eerie underwater glow. The escalator steps had been replaced by rough stone that descended at a steep angle. And from below, Takeshi could hear sounds that definitely didn't belong in a subway station—chittering, scraping, and something that might have been breathing.
His status window updated:
[ENTERING DUNGEON: SHINJUKU STATION UNDERCROFT]
Recommended Level: 3-5
Party Size: 4/4
Estimated Completion Time: 6-8 hours
Current Mortality Rate: 45%
Warning: Death is permanent. The Black Company is not responsible for employee casualties incurred during mandatory assignments.
"Well," Kenji said, adjusting his grip on his sword and equipment case. "At least they're honest about the mortality rate."
"Small mercies," Hideo muttered.
Yuna looked at Takeshi. "You survived the tutorial with creative problem-solving. Any insights before we descend into hell?"
Takeshi thought about Nakamura-san. About the fire extinguisher and the electrical outlet. About how he'd won not through strength but through exploiting every available resource.
"Don't fight fair," he said. "Use everything. The environment. Each other. The Black Company's equipment. Whatever it takes to survive and complete the mission."
"Even if that means sacrificing teammates?" Hideo asked pointedly.
Takeshi met his gaze. "I didn't say that. But Matsumoto-san made it clear the Company won't penalize us for difficult choices. That means we need to establish our own rules before we're forced to make those decisions under pressure."
"What kind of rules?" Yuna asked.
"Simple ones." Takeshi looked at each of them in turn. "We share information. We cover each other's weaknesses. We don't sabotage each other for individual advantage. And if someone's about to die, we make a group decision about whether saving them is worth the risk to mission completion."
"That's cold," Kenji said.
"That's survival." Takeshi shifted his equipment case. "The Black Company is testing whether we can execute strategic objectives under impossible conditions. They want us to turn on each other. They want to see who's ruthless enough to sacrifice teammates for corporate goals. But here's the thing—if we work together, we're more likely to all survive. And if we all survive, they can't use our failures against us."
Hideo's expression shifted from suspicion to grudging respect. "You're proposing we game the evaluation by refusing to play by their rules."
"I'm proposing we exceed their expectations by accomplishing what they think is impossible." Takeshi started down the escalator. "They expect two of us to die. Let's prove them wrong."
Behind him, he heard Yuna laugh—a sharp, surprised sound. "You know what? I like this plan. Let's make the Black Company regret underestimating us."
"I'm in," Kenji said. "But if this goes sideways, I'm blaming you."
"Noted." Takeshi descended into the darkness, his briefcase in one hand and fifteen kilograms of corporate objectives in the other. "Now let's go install some surveillance equipment and not die."
The Undercroft swallowed them whole.
And somewhere far above, in a command center filled with holographic displays and corporate ambition, Matsumoto Reiko watched their status windows descend into the dungeon's first level.
Her tablet chimed with a notification from upper management:
ALERT: EXECUTIVE INTEREST IN EMPLOYEE #47291 (YAMADA, T.)
MONOPOLY SKILL ACTIVATION PROBABILITY: 67%
AUTHORIZATION: INCREASE SURVEILLANCE PRIORITY
STANDING ORDERS: PRESERVE SUBJECT IF POSSIBLE. SKILL DATA TAKES PRECEDENCE OVER STANDARD EVALUATION METRICS.
Matsumoto smiled and flagged Takeshi's feed for real-time monitoring.
"Let's see what you can do," she murmured.
In the Undercroft below, Takeshi felt the weight of corporate expectations settle on his shoulders like a physical thing.
He'd spent eight years being watched, evaluated, and judged by people who viewed him as a resource to be exploited.
This was just more of the same.
Except now, if he failed, he didn't just lose his job.
He lost his life.
The darkness ahead suddenly seemed very, very deep.