Classless Ascension

The scene that appeared in front of Josh was quite strange yet familiar. It was a gray office with lots of similarly gray and dull cubicles. There were shitty neons that made the atmosphere gloomy and a weirdly loud clock that stabbed into one's mind.

Tick!

Tack!

Tick!

Tack!

On a wall, there were large banners that seemed way too blatant: "Gotta earn money at all cost.", "Remember, we own you!" and even "Work till you drop."

But what made this even more peculiar was the fact that at every working station, there were monkeys. They slaved away, working their asses off on old-school, black typewriters. The typing sound would come and go as if a passing tide.

What kind of surreal scene was this? But most importantly, what kind of mission was this?! Was it a kill mission like the System had been doing in the past? But, if it weren't, it would set him for failure. For now, he needed more information.

That's when a rainbow-colored monkey with a supervisor badge approached him. "You must be the new hire! I see you are 5 minutes early. Here we come 15 minutes in advance, don't be late next time! Kidding, you won't be leaving. Alright, follow me!"

The monkey's voice felt oddly enthusiastic yet arrogant. This attitude, along with its weird hair color, made this very strange. Soon enough, Josh was led to a small cubicle that felt oppressing. In it, there were pictures of a random monkey looking happy.

"Oh, don't mind these old things. This idiot killed himself. You wouldn't believe all the paperwork this asshole made me do by offing himself on the clock! Can you believe it, on the clock!" The supervisor complained.

Josh already disliked this man, eh monkey. He could only cross his fingers that this would turn into an assassination mission at some point.

"Alright, your job is simple. Whenever the screen in from of you is glowing green, you need to be typing. That's it."

"Why?" Josh asked, completely lost.

"SHUT UP! You don't get to talk back! You're just a basic monkey! I'll be lenient since it's your first day, but next time you're fired!" The supervisor screamed, his hair rising in anger as he left stomping.

What kind of shitshow was this? Was getting fired equivalent to failing the mission? That's when the screen began glowing green. What was he even supposed to type?

Oh, this would do: <Hello world!>

He nodded in satisfaction, proud of himself. But that's when another monkey came over, about to lose his shit. "You! Why are you so slow?! Increase the goddamn pace, or you're fired! Don't think, just type!"

This one had a leader badge. He was looking as colorful as the supervisor, with streaks of lightning-like purple in his blue fur. But then he noticed that Josh was the 'new hire': "Oh, you're the new guy. You gotta type faster, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" Josh answered vigorously.

"I like your energy. Good thing the previous guy is gone. He was one lazy piece of shit." The leader nodded in satisfaction. Was he really disparaging a dead guy?! Was management all like that here?

Josh had no idea what was happening but he kept typing whatever he could think off. Cooking recipes, weather forecasts, memorials, song lyrics, whatever! He felt like this was extraordinarily retarded, but he had been told just to write, and so he did.

The typing was so loud, but even then, the clock kept constantly ticking even louder, as if a cruel reminder of the slow passage of time. It felt as if they were in a time bubble with everything feeling longer than it was.

After 11 minutes that felt like an eternity, the light finally dimmed as the sound of typing rescinded. It was time to gather information! Josh subtly popped his head over to his cubicle neighbor, a brown tired-looking old monkey.

"Hey man, can you tell me what we are doing here? They didn't tell me anything at all!" Josh implored.

With a tired chuckle, he answered: "We type. Every 11 minutes, we can take a 1-minute break. This repeats for 11 hours. Then we will have a one-hour break to sleep. Afterward, we will start over again."

What kind of unreal schedule was this?! How were they all accepting this?! But there was something more pressing. "Yes, but what am I supposed to type exactly?"

"Anything. Just type. It doesn't even have to make sense." The old monkey shrugged.

"Why?!"

"As long as we keep typing long enough, we will eventually write a best-seller by randomly hitting keys. It will just require patience and lots of monkeys." He explained.

Josh wanted to point out the absurdity of it, but the break was already over. It was time to resume the nonsensical mindless task of hitting keys at random. Could the mission objective be to present a complete manuscript?

The more time passed, the more Josh was getting annoyed by the clock's rhythmic sound, and the lights were even flickering by now! He kept tapping his foot in annoyance, his face eventually twisting in a mask of frustration.

If only that damn clock didn't exist, he could focus on…wait. Why did he have to focus? He didn't care about this at all! So what if he typed only bullshit? That's when he realized that there was something very wrong with this place.

Besides the obvious, it seemed like the entire room had the effect of making people lose their minds. Ah! That wasn't all. All these monkeys were acting like this was normal, giving the illusion that one should keep pushing tirelessly.

This was most probably a test of mental fortitude. He wasn't sure what it involved precisely, but he had some inkling. He could either act within the system's rules and produce a decent manuscript or find a way to somehow turn everything on its head.

He kept relentlessly typing until the 1-hour break finally came. Josh excitedly went toward his coworker. He had so many things he wanted to ask him! But what welcomed him was the sight of a sleeping monkey having a nightmare, twitching.

"Don't worry, honey. I'll be fine. It's just typing! I'll be fine, and you'll live well!" He mumbled in his sleep. What kind of backstory did this monkey have?

Josh came to a halt. For him, it was a mission, but for them, it was their reality. He slowly approached the old man slumped on his chair, delicately picked the blanket that had fallen on the ground, and carefully covered him.

He had to rest well for now, for Josh would be asking him so many questions soon. He had already decided he would prepare for both clear alternatives…