Percy wanted to tell her.

One after another, he continued his work - eyes blackened and hands trembling after he had been thrashed by the other workers.

He wanted to tell the girl who worked alongside him about the CONSEQUENCES.

However, he could not do such a thing.

Standing behind them were the overseers.

Their role was to prevent such a thing.

For at the end of the night, she would find out herself.

During the evaluation.

'When I first came here... 6312... I was barely told anything.'

The man felt the urge to look over to the clock, yet stopped himself - for the existence of numbers other than the count in his head would distract him.

'6313... Perhaps if someone told me... perhaps... no... even if somebody told me... I didn't come to this place by my own choice. 6314. However... perhaps I wouldn't have had to endure as much.'

Would he make the quota?

This was all dependent upon how much time was left, however finding out such a thing was far too dangerous.

'The rules... the rules... 6315... haha... that man... Why does he toy with us by setting such rules?'

Percy could only wonder such a thing, looking around to see that the hands of the others around him continued to move.

'Well shit... I'm getting behind... this is why you don't say your numbers out loud... I'm losing.'

Glancing next to him, the man wondered if he should let out a sigh of relief - yet instead his expression filled with concern.

The woman was behind.

Far behind.

'6316... If I give her any hints besides what the Boss already told her... then I can't even imagine what punishment we will both have to endure. 6317. I can't help her... so at this point... I suppose I can only hope.'

One after another, bag after bag was produced, and at some point the pain in the chest of the man sedated.

Whether he was losing his sense of feeling due to exhaustion or whether he had inhaled some of the drugs himself, he did not know.

Yet he knew one thing for certain.

'I can only hope that she remembers her place.'

----

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The annoying buzzing of an alarm rang in the ears of the workers as the conveyor belt came to a stop.

It was the crack of dawn.

'12136. This... is my number.'

The night was over.

However Percy felt no sense of relief.

At that moment, the doors to the warehouse seemed to burst open, and walking through them with a strut was none other than the Boss.

"Good morning, everyone! I do hope you all were... successful in your endeavors. How wonderful for you all. Your primary shifts are over, and you shall now receive a time of resting and relaxation in order to recharge yourselves. However before that... it is time for the evaluation."

Stepping forward to stand before them, the man spoke with a confident voice.

It was not loud, yet it was controlling.

"Stand in line in the following order. You first. You second. You third. You fourth. You fifth. And you... sixth."

Percy found himself to be the fifth in line.

And sixth was none other than Amelia.

Each of the employees stood forward, forming a line in moments as Percy and Amelia both followed in step.

A suffocating tension filled the room, and even Amelia who desperately wanted to ask what was about to happen refrained from doing so.

For at that moment all eyes were focused on her.

"Everyone. We have not had a proper welcome ceremony in quite a while, but today is finally the day for one. Say hello to your new coworker Amelia. She will be joining you each night from this point on. Amelia. Will you please come up here and introduce yourself?"

"Eh? Ah... oh! Of... of course!"

As if ignoring the grueling hours of work which she had just performed, the woman skipped forward, plastering a fake smile on her expression as she spoke in a cheerful manner.

"My name is Amelia! I didn't particularly like my previous line of work... so I decided to give something else a try! It's wonderful to meet you all and I hope we can continue to work together from now on!"

Fake.

Percy knew from the slight motions with her hands, from the almost unrecognizable hesitation in her tone, from these small things he knew immediately that this girl was bluffing.

There was nothing enjoyable about this job.

There was no hoping to work together.

And without a doubt... there was nobody who came to this place of their own free will.

'Amelia... perhaps you aren't like me.'

Pity, regret, sorrow.

Percy was unable to understand how he should feel towards this newcomer.

Yet he knew one thing with certainty.

There would come a time where even that painted smile would be washed off her face.

"Excellent... Now then... Amelia. You may return to your place. I did not tell you for this first night... but we have a few RULES here that all employees are to follow. Please."

Holding out his hand in an extravagant gesture, the man motioned for the girl to return to the line, which she did promptly.

Standing at attention, the girl held her breath as the man walked down the line, glaring into the eyes of each worker.

"The first rule... which I told you earlier. I stated that you are to ensure that you do not lose your place. Do you understand the meaning of this?"

Stopping himself before the woman, the man closed one eye as the other fell upon her.

"I... was able to figure out that much. You wanted us to count the Number of products as we produced them.", Amelia replied.

With a nod, the man seemed to slowly grin.

"That was the first rule. And if you recognized it... then you should know your own number. Correct?"

Twisting his head as his eyes seemed to pierce the woman, she straightened herself as her mind was filled with a series of thoughts.

'7623... this is the number that I obtained. But... I wasn't able to reach 10,000. Am I going to be punished?'

As the girl wondered this, the man pressed her with his words.

"Well? What was your Number?"

At which she was faced with a decision.

Should she tell the truth?

Should she lie?

Why was this man trying to find out her number?

If it was for purposes of taking inventory, then providing false information would likely be found out at some point.

Even if it was not, would there be any point in lying here?

If they didn’t bother to check if she was lying, then it shouldn’t matter whether or not she had met the quota. Otherwise, everyone would just lie and say they had produced enough.

And if they did check, then it would be found out eventually either way.

"7623."

This was the number with which she responded.

At which, the man immediately grinned.

His perfect white teeth bared themselves, free of any blemish or deformity, and an overwhelming joy seemed to come over him in that instant.

"How excellent.... to think that I would be dealing with a prodigy who would get it on their first attempt... this is truly unprecedented."

Stroking his chin with his hand, the man looked up and down the girl with approval.

"That is correct. That is the EXACT number in which you produced."

Whipping out a calculator, the man started to do some quick math as he began to pace once more.

"Rule Number 2. Those who cannot keep their place... or those who lie about their production in order to avoid punishment... will be punished in proportion to the lie in which they have told. For example."

Lifting the calculator up for all to see, there was a number displayed.

2377.

"If you had lied and stated that you produced 10,000... which you were expected to produce... then this is the difference in inventory which you would have introduced. In essence... this is the amount of nonexistent products which you would have claimed to produce."

"What would have happened if I had lied?", the girl asked while holding her breath.

"Oh... well... you will find out soon enough. After all... there are two reasons for punishment. The first... is by lying or by giving an inaccurate count. And the second... is by being below the quota. How unfortunate for you, young miss... after all... while you escaped the punishment for falsifying your numbers... the punishment still remains for being 2377 products below the required amount."

'She... didn't make it.'

Closing his eyes, Percy stopped his own tears from flooding forth, still trying to focus on his own number.

'I... am sorry.', he thought, not even able to look up to witness whatever horrid and fearful expression the girl must have displayed. 'I couldn't do anything to save you from this... and now you'll have to experience it yourself.'

"Amelia... while you are on the correct path when it comes to your honesty and your ability to properly count the items which you have produced... it seems that you are still in need of some redirection. However... worry not."

With a grim smile, the man turned his back on the woman as he chuckled to himself.

"I happen to be especially good at... redirecting my employees."

Walking away, the man seemed to hold up his hand as if to stop the others from taking action.

"However... I have not yet explained the rules fully. Therefore... I suppose I should do so, shouldn't I?"

Turning around to face the group once more, the man pointed towards Percy with a merciless finger.

"Number?"

"12136."

"Off by... 12. Your correct number was... 12148."

In that instant, the heart of Percy froze.

As if he were surrounded by ice, he could feel death approaching.

'It's only 12... it's only 12... nothing compared to her... but still.... 12.... 12... shit.'

Holding his forehead, the man found it hard to keep himself standing as his eyes became bloodshot.

'12... a mere 12... was it that time? When they beat me? Did something shift? Did my counting go wrong because of that? Did I start counting products that I wasn't producing? No... the opposite.'

'I was producing without even knowing it.'

These questions repeated in the mind of Percy, however such thoughts were meaningless.

The sentence had already been placed.

The remaining men seemed to let out sighs of relief, as if their very lives had been spared at that moment, and all tension left the room - with the exception of the two.

Closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, the man known as the boss flashed his teeth once more to the two.

"Unproductivity and dishonesty. These... are the two SINS that an employee shall never commit."

Sliding his hand across his bald head as if hair was present, the man known as the boss waved his hand as if to silence all others around him.

"At least... not under my watch."

Slouching down as his back curved in an irregular manner, the man continued his pacing as he spoke.

"Both of these things are critically important to any business. It should go without saying that a business without productivity is dead. Indeed... if nothing is produced, then profit cannot be made. If profit cannot be made, then expenses and salaries cannot be paid. This is simple to understand, even a child could do it. However this simple concept brings one particular requirement for any worker."

Fixing his collar, the man glared at Amelia with a disturbing look.

"If a worker is unable to bring in enough profit to pay for their own expenses to the company... then the company will be better off without that worker."

Raising a finger, the man continued as he spoke with pretension in his voice.

"Yet what the people do not understand is that salary is only one of the many expenses which go into the true cost of hiring an employee. Equipment for their use, the materials for products which they sell, insurance and benefits, all these extra costs are endured by the company for the sake of the employee. Therefore in order to provide their true value to the company... an employee must produce not only their own salary, but rather a sum much greater than such an amount."

Suddenly, the tone of the man lowered as he became serious in an instant.

"Which is why I dare say it is not only the responsibility of the employee... but it is the obligation of the employee to create as much profit as possible for the company which gives them everything they need to succeed."

Striding over to the conveyor belt which had stopped, the man inspected it with care.

The powder was no longer present on the belt, and the man quickly made his way over to the crates in which the bags had been loaded.

"That is why quotas are so important. A quota will tell the employees the threshold of production which they need to achieve in order to pay for the expense that is that employee. And yet... Some employees are simply lazy. Some do not even attempt to achieve their quotas. Others are incapable of doing so. And others still will only achieve their quotas, never going beyond them. And to all three of these people... there is only one word which can describe them."

Heading over to the front end of the conveyor belt, the man opened a hatch which revealed the container filled with the white powder that provided it for bagging and sealing.

On opening this hatch, a quick glance was all that was needed to see that there was clearly a large amount of the substance remaining - which indicated a simple fact.

The conveyor belt had not been moving fast enough.

"Useless."

Putting his hand to his receded forehead in disappointment, the man spoke as if about to spit.

"In Stronvardia... the war has forced technology to improve greatly. I dare to say that our technology is the best in the world... However, those scientists in the Forgestarian Empire have certainly been working hard on all sorts of insane things.... well, even so. Take a look at this conveyor belt. You may not have noticed it, but this belt adjusts its own speed depending on the rate of production. To put it simply... if each person here was able to meet their quota, then this container would be empty."

Pointing to the container, the man smiled in a creepy manner as he glanced over to Amelia.

"Now tell me. Does this look like it has been emptied?"

At a loss for words, the girl opened her mouth yet did not speak.

"No. The correct answer would be no. It is not empty. Which would mean that the productivity on this particular night was LESS than what was expected. Of course... this much is obvious. Yes... for a new worker who has never performed this work before, it is well within the realm of expectation that their productivity would be significantly below the others. However..."

At that moment, the man smiled.

A horrible and sinister smile, one which made Amelia want to squirm with discomfort.

Even so - she remained perfectly still, not so much as gulping as she was faced with this man.

"I believe that while it is only human to make mistakes... that mistakes must not be tolerated as acceptable. After all... even if one will make a mistake once... if the impression is given off that such a thing is allowable, then no effort will be made to correct these mistakes. Which leads me to my point. I have created a set of rules which all employees must follow."

With the wave of his hand, the man motioned for Percy and Amelia to follow him.

"You two. Walk with me. I will be taking you to the lower level for some... extra instruction."

----

Four armed men tagged along, as if to remind Amelia and Percy that escape was not an option.

The other four men who had been working were allowed to return to the outside world, given the time to rest up while they could before the day shift would begin.

For this was not a place where human rights were considered.

Such things as limitations on work hours were not enforced, and something such as a union or political support could not reach this place which existed in the dark underbelly of society.

"Productivity is indeed important... critically so. Which is why I have ordered a contraption to ensure that my workers... remain as productive as possible."

As the group descended the stairs, the man seemed to speak with joy in his tone as he chuckled.

"Punishment is something which I believe is necessary for growth. You see... There are some who will say that rewards are a more proper method of motivation over punishment, however I don't believe that in the slightest. Rewards will only motivate specific people in very specific ways, and are extremely difficult to use on a general scale."

On reaching the entrance to a room on the floor below, the man opened the doors with a grand motion.

"Punishment, on the other hand, applies to everyone."

Entering the room, a large object was hidden behind a curtain, at which the man snapped his fingers.

One of the guards immediately rushed over to where a rope was, gripping it as he prepared to reveal it.

'Ah... there it is...', Percy thought, his mind filled with fear as he recalled his experiences with that thing.

'Shit... I can't believe I'm down here again... all because of... 12 mere bags… and extra ones at that.'

"As I stated before... Stronvardian technology is truly outstanding. However... while we are without a doubt the best in the world... There are certain more devious contraptions that the wretched scientists of the Forgestarian Empire have been working on. And this is one of them."

As the boss spoke, the guard pulled the rope to reveal the contraption.

It was a chair.

Atop the chair was a mushroom shaped helmet with all sorts of wires and connections, making it clear that it was some sort of psychological device.

"While lack of productivity is an obvious evil...", the man continued. "There is a less obvious evil which can root itself within a company, destroying it from within. Regardless of how productive the workers are... if corruption and rebellion spreads around, then the owner will be undermined and usurped by his own employees. Which brings me to the second sin. The sin of... dishonesty."

Walking behind the chair, the man began to inspect the device with a smile, ensuring that it was prepared for use.

"No matter how successful the business is... disloyalty and inability to properly record profits and expenses can cause the downfall of a company. Which is why it is so crucially important that you all remember just how many items you have produced. Inventory must be taken... minutes must be counted... payments must be calculated... and sales must be recorded. However if there is a mistake in the recording of these things... then the company will endure a great loss. And if there is dishonesty among the ones recording them... then the losses will increase exponentially."

At that moment, Percy felt two hands grab around his neck.

"W-wait... no... no... not again... please... please, boss!!! I... I admit... I made a mistake! A mistake!!! I got distracted and made an honest mistake in the counting!!! I-"

"Honest or not... a mistake is a mistake."

The man began to beg as he struggled, yet the two who grabbed him did so with an iron grip, forcing him onto the chair as they lowered the mushroom shaped helmet onto his head.

"WAIT!!! PLEASE!!! I WON'T MAKE SUCH A MISTAKE AGAIN!!"

Shouting and flailing, Amelia could do nothing more than watch as this man descended further into a pathetic state.

However, at that moment, the switch was turned on.

The machine made a horrible whirring sound, and the man fell limp in an instant.

His eyes closed, and his mouth fell open as he began to drool in an unconscious state.

It was just a moment, yet the man who had been screaming in terror had been silenced like that.

"Ah... that's right. I haven't explained this, but because he was 12 off in his counting... he will endure 12 seconds."

Glancing to his watch as he spoke, the man kept his finger on the switch, not taking his eye off it for even a second.

"I punish those who are dishonest by the amount of dishonesty they show. A simple mistake like this will not lead to a great punishment... but even so... 12 seconds in this may still seem like an eternity. However as for you... well... while you were not dishonest... you were unable to meet your quota by 2377. Well... to put it simply... this is quite unfortunate for you, as you will have to endure in there for that amount of seconds. However fear not. Your body and your ability to work will not be harmed."

Flipping the switch off, the whirring stopped.

The helmet was lifted off Percy, who opened his eyes with a dead expression.

Drool continued to fall from his mouth, and the man made a frantic attempt to move forward, stumbling onto the ground as tears filled his eyes.

"Ahhh...."

This was the only utterance he could let out as the men immediately grabbed him, at which he began to flail about frantically.

"No... no no no no no NO!!!!"

The man began to scream, however the men paid no attention as if such an occurrence were normal.

At that moment, Amelia realized something.

Whatever this machine was, it was dangerous.

It was not something that a human should be put under.

Yet... here she was.

'12 seconds... did that to him?'

'And yet... I have to endure... over 40 minutes?'

Fear could not describe the overwhelming rush of torment that entered the veins of the woman, who could do nothing to resist these men as they grabbed her.

'No... no... I... I don't want to... please... stop this...'

These thoughts were all that could come to her mind as the man smiled, holding back a laugh as he watched the girl be placed onto the machine.

The helmet was lowered, connecting to her mind as she felt the electrical impulses, and then with one final statement, the words of the man echoed inside her head.

"It is only your mind that will be broken."

----

Those who did not meet their quota would be punished at a rate of one second per item below quota.

Those who ceased to work after reaching their quotas would be punished at a rate of one second per second of ceased work.

The one with the lowest amount of production would be asked the amount they produced, and if they answered correctly they would be spared of the punishment for dishonesty.

If the person who answered first answered correctly, they would not be punished for dishonesty, however the next person would then be asked for their production amount.

This would repeat until someone answered incorrectly.

Anyone who did not meet the quota would be punished.

If all people met their quota, then nobody would be punished for this reason.

Yet even if every person met their quota, one person would always be punished for dishonesty.

The only situation in which nobody would be punished for dishonesty would be the situation where all people were able to answer with exact precision the number of bags they produced.

And for the one being punished due to dishonesty, they would be punished with one second for each item of difference between actual production and stated production.

If one were to produce 1000 and claim they produced 2000, this would become 1000 seconds of punishment.

This was the devilish system that was devised by the store owner, in order to promote his two precepts.

Honesty and Productivity.

Forced to compete with one another so as to let the lower producers answer first and potentially make a mistake, the employees were encouraged to produce as much as possible.

Yet even more so than production, keeping track of one's production took precedence.

For the inability to answer correctly would always lead to punishment.

Something such as distracting others would never be tolerated, as the others would gang up on anyone who made an attempt to do such a thing.

Yet even so, the hatred was present.

Forcing people to work together to achieve the same goal, yet at the same time pitting them against one another in competition - this was the wretched system that this man had devised in order to maximize production.

And it worked perfectly.

For there was no greater incentive than pure and utter terror.

Years before, two men had met in a dark alleyway, their clothes hidden from the light of the sun as they talked around a corner, each leaning onto a wall without facing the other.

"Are you sure you can handle all this? After all... if word gets out about the brainwashing and abuse that you're performing here, then even we won't be able to help you."

"Brainwashing? Abuse? Such words hurt me. I wouldn't say such things. No... rather than that... I would simply refer to it as... redirecting their priorities."

"The machine will be delivered to the warehouse tonight. Take good care of it. It was quite expensive. Ah, but with the shipments we've been sending you... you won't have a problem paying us back, right?"

"Of course not. Just leave it to me."

Stepping off, the men both parted, heading their separate paths.

Yet the bald one made one final statement before he disappeared into the darkness.

"As always, it was a pleasure doing business with you… Mr. Stirling."

----