The Corporate Zones pulsed with blue light across the network map like wounds in the corrupted infrastructure. Takeshi watched through his fragmented Network Authority as three critical tunnels sealed simultaneously—west maintenance junction, north service hub, east emergency access. The Seikatsu strike force's red markers stuttered, their approach vectors collapsing from three to one.
"Zones established," Matsumoto confirmed through the monitoring stations. "Strike force is consolidating for single-vector assault. Estimated arrival: twelve minutes."
Twelve minutes. Takeshi tried to stand and his legs refused to cooperate. The triple activation had drained his MP to 8/100, leaving him barely conscious while system feedback carved white-hot lines through his skull. His status window was a mess of warnings and debuffs:
[DEBUFF: Cognitive Overload]
All mental abilities reduced by 60%
Duration: 14 minutes 22 seconds
[DEBUFF: Network Feedback]
Network Authority access severely limited
Duration: 19 minutes 47 seconds
[WARNING: Team abilities on cooldown]
Meeting Scheduler: 15 minutes
Form Processing: 15 minutes
Vanguard Combat Skills: 12 minutes
"We bought time," Kenji said, helping Takeshi to a sitting position against one of the monitoring stations. "But we're fighting with our hands tied until these cooldowns expire."
Yuna studied the holographic display, her analytical mind already working the problem. "The zones force them through the main approach where we have prepared positions. Black Company security has superior numbers at that chokepoint. If we can hold for five minutes until the zones collapse—"
"They're adapting." Hideo's voice cut through her tactical assessment. He was staring at his status window with the expression of someone reading very bad contract fine print. "Look at the network map. Their markers aren't converging on the main approach. They're spreading out."
Takeshi forced his fragmenting Network Authority to focus, pushing through the system feedback to access tactical data. The pain was immediate and excruciating, but he needed to see what Hideo had noticed.
The Seikatsu strike force's red markers weren't consolidating. They were dispersing across the sealed tunnels, probing for weaknesses in his Corporate Zones with the methodical precision of professionals who'd done this before.
"They're testing the zones," Matsumoto said, her tone shifting from confident to concerned. "Looking for structural vulnerabilities. Ishikawa knows corporate infrastructure—he spent three years as Black Company's top field operative before defecting. He's not going to charge blindly into our prepared killbox."
Kenji swore. "So sealing the tunnels bought us what? Five minutes of them analyzing our defenses instead of attacking through them?"
"It bought us information." Yuna pulled up detailed scans of the Corporate Zones' structural integrity. "Takeshi's zones are holding, but they're not perfect. The incomplete synchronization means they have weak points—places where the territorial claim is thin enough that a concentrated assault could breach."
Takeshi watched through his network vision as the strike force's markers shifted, converging on a specific point in the west maintenance junction. Not attacking. Analyzing. His 34% synchronized Network Authority could see them studying the zone's architecture, identifying the exact weak point where his hasty triple activation had created structural instability.
"They're going to breach the west zone," he said, his voice coming out rough. "Not through brute force. Through precision. They'll hit the weak point and collapse the entire structure."
"How long?" Matsumoto demanded.
Takeshi's Network Authority fed him calculations based on the strike force's current positioning and the zone's degradation rate. "Eight minutes. Maybe less if they have infrastructure specialists."
"Which they do," Hideo said grimly. "Seikatsu Consortium specializes in hostile corporate takeovers. They'll have brought experts in breaking territorial claims."
The holographic display updated, showing new tactical data that made Takeshi's fragmenting consciousness stumble. A fourth red marker had appeared on the network map—not with the main strike force, but approaching from a completely different vector.
A freight maintenance shaft. Deep underground. Outside the range of his three Corporate Zones.
"Contact!" one of the Black Company security forces shouted. "Movement detected in the freight system, bearing two-seven-zero, distance—"
The maintenance shaft exploded with activity. Takeshi's Network Authority—still struggling to process the sealed tunnels—suddenly flooded with data about an entire parallel infrastructure system he hadn't known existed. Freight corridors. Cargo tunnels. Maintenance access shafts that connected every major hub in the Tokyo subway network.
And Ishikawa Riku's strike force was using them.
"It was a feint," Kenji breathed. "The three approach vectors, the probing attacks on our zones—all of it was to make us focus on defending tunnels they never intended to use."
Matsumoto's tactical assessment came through with brutal clarity. "The freight system bypasses all three Corporate Zones. If they breach through that vector, they'll hit our defensive positions from behind while we're focused on the main approach. We're about to be surrounded."
Takeshi's MP bar showed 11/100. His abilities were still on cooldown for another thirteen minutes. And his Network Authority—the only advantage they had—was fragmenting under system feedback that got worse every time he accessed deep infrastructure data.
"Options?" Yuna asked, her Meeting Scheduler still locked in cooldown but her analytical mind working overtime.
"We consolidate," Kenji said immediately. "Pull back to the Core chamber, abandon the outer perimeter, create a single defensive position we can actually hold."
"That means abandoning the monitoring stations," Hideo pointed out. "The equipment we installed. The territorial claim that justified this entire mission. If we pull back, we lose our 'Exceptional' evaluation and probably our Management Track positions."
"Better than losing our lives," Kenji countered.
"Is it?" Yuna's question hung in the air. "We came here to prove we could handle strategic operations under pressure. Abandoning our objective the moment things get difficult doesn't exactly demonstrate management potential."
Matsumoto's voice cut through their debate. "Takeshi, I need a tactical assessment. Your Network Authority is the only thing giving us real-time intelligence. Can you map the freight system well enough to predict their approach vectors?"
Takeshi tried to access the freight network data and immediately regretted it. The system feedback hit like a sledgehammer, his 34% synchronized Network Authority struggling to process infrastructure it hadn't fully integrated yet. His vision split between physical reality and network maps that refused to stabilize, showing him fragmentary glimpses of tunnels and shafts that twisted through impossible geometries.
[WARNING: Network Authority synchronization unstable]
Accessing unmapped infrastructure exceeds current integration level
Cognitive damage risk: CRITICAL
"I can see it," he gasped, fighting through the pain. "The freight system. It's massive. Parallel to the passenger network but completely separate. If they capture this node, they'll have access to every major hub in Tokyo through routes our territorial claims don't cover."
The implications crystallized with terrifying clarity. The monitoring stations, the Corporate Zones, his entire Network Authority—all of it focused on the passenger subway system. But the freight network was a shadow infrastructure that his incomplete synchronization had missed entirely.
"How many approach vectors?" Matsumoto demanded.
Takeshi pushed deeper into the network data, his MP dropping to 8/100 as the system feedback drained his resources. "Four. No—five. The freight system has multiple access points to this platform. They could hit us from any direction."
"Then we can't defend the perimeter," Kenji said flatly. "We spread our forces across five approach vectors, we guarantee defeat. We need to consolidate at the Core chamber and create a single chokepoint."
"Which surrenders the monitoring stations and our territorial claim," Yuna argued. "Everything we fought for."
"Everything means nothing if we're dead," Hideo said, his Bureaucrat pragmatism cutting through the tactical debate. "Matsumoto-san, what are the contractual implications of mission abandonment?"
Matsumoto's response was brutally honest. "Mission failure invalidates your Management Track candidacy. You'll revert to standard employee status with its associated mortality rates. But you'll be alive to try again."
"Unless the Seikatsu Consortium kills us during the retreat," Kenji added. "They're not going to let us walk away from a strategic asset like the Network Authority. If we pull back, they'll pursue."
Takeshi forced himself to focus through the system feedback, his fragmenting Network Authority showing him the strike force's positions. Fifteen minutes until breach. His abilities on cooldown for another twelve. His MP regenerating at an agonizingly slow rate—currently 14/100.
But there was something else. A possibility his Monopoly skill was highlighting through the network data. The freight maintenance system had a central control node. A terminal that managed access to the entire parallel infrastructure. If he could reach it, manually override the system without using his active abilities—
"I have a plan," he said. "But it's terrible."
"All our plans are terrible," Yuna said. "What makes this one special?"
Takeshi pulled up the freight system's architecture, fighting through the pain to show his team the central control terminal. "The freight network has a master override. Physical controls, not System-based. If I can reach it and manually seal the access points, we cut off their fourth approach vector."
"You can barely stand," Kenji pointed out. "And your abilities are on cooldown. How are you going to navigate hostile tunnels in your current state?"
"Carefully." Takeshi checked his status window. MP at 17/100 and slowly climbing. "My Network Authority is still functional for basic infrastructure navigation. I won't have my Monopoly skill's active components, but I can access the control terminal directly."
"While Ishikawa Riku's strike force is actively using those same tunnels," Hideo said. "You'll be walking into an active combat zone with no defensive abilities and minimal MP."
"Which is why you're going to create the killbox at the Core chamber," Takeshi said. "Matsumoto, pull back all forces. Abandon the monitoring stations. Consolidate everything at the Core chamber's entrance and turn it into a chokepoint. When I seal the freight system, Ishikawa will have only one approach vector—directly into your prepared position."
Matsumoto was silent for three seconds that felt like hours. "You're asking me to sacrifice our primary objective and bet everything on you successfully infiltrating hostile territory while your abilities are on cooldown."
"Yes."
"It's insane."
"Yes."
"I'm authorizing it." Matsumoto's tactical assessment came through with the cold precision of someone making a decision she knew might get them all killed. "All forces, fall back to the Core chamber. Establish defensive positions at the primary entrance. Prepare for concentrated assault from a single vector. Yamada, you have twelve minutes to seal the freight system before the strike force breaches. After that, you're on your own."
Kenji grabbed Takeshi's arm. "You can't do this alone. Your MP is barely above critical, your abilities are locked, and you're suffering from cognitive overload that's making you see double."
"Which is why I need you holding the Core chamber," Takeshi said. "If I fail, you're the last line of defense. If I succeed, you're the killbox that stops Ishikawa when he realizes his backup plan just collapsed."
Yuna pulled up a tactical map showing the freight system's layout. "The control terminal is three hundred meters from our current position. Through corrupted tunnels. Past potential enemy forces. With no combat abilities available."
"I know."
"Your survival probability is less than twenty percent."
"I know."
Hideo studied Takeshi with the expression of someone calculating contract breach penalties. "If you die, the Network Authority might default to Black Company corporate control. Or it might fragment across the Tokyo network. Or it might collapse entirely and leave this hub vulnerable to whoever claims it first."
"Then I won't die." Takeshi checked his MP one more time. 20/100. Pathetic, but it would have to be enough. "Get to the Core chamber. Establish your killbox. I'll seal the freight system and force Ishikawa into your prepared position."
"And if you can't?" Kenji asked.
"Then hold as long as you can and hope Matsumoto's reinforcements arrive before you're overwhelmed."
The team exchanged glances that communicated entire conversations without words. They'd survived a dungeon raid together. Proven they could work as a unit despite impossible odds. And now Takeshi was asking them to trust him with a plan that had a less than twenty percent success rate.
"Seven minutes," Matsumoto said. "That's how long you have before the strike force breaches the freight system's outer access points. After that, you'll be navigating tunnels with active hostiles."
Takeshi nodded, pushing himself to his feet through sheer determination. His legs shook. His vision swam with overlapping network maps and system feedback. But his briefcase felt solid in his hand, and his Corporate Drone class had survived worse than this.
"Go," he told his team. "I'll see you at the Core chamber."
They went. Kenji leading the tactical withdrawal, Yuna coordinating the fallback, Hideo managing the bureaucratic chaos of abandoned monitoring stations and invalidated mission objectives. Black Company security forces streamed past Takeshi toward the Core chamber, transforming the main platform from a distributed defense into a consolidated killbox.
And Takeshi turned toward the freight maintenance access shaft, his Network Authority showing him the path through corrupted tunnels to a control terminal three hundred meters away.
His status window updated:
[MISSION OBJECTIVE: Seal Freight Maintenance System]
Time Limit: 7 minutes
Current MP: 23/100
Abilities Available: None (Cooldown active)
Survival Probability: 18%
He stepped into the maintenance shaft, leaving behind the blue light of his Corporate Zones and the relative safety of prepared defensive positions.
The freight tunnels were darker than the passenger corridors. No bioluminescent fungi here, just emergency lighting that flickered with the rhythm of a dying heartbeat. The walls were bare concrete instead of tile, marked with warning signs in faded paint that pre-dated the apocalypse by decades.
Takeshi's Network Authority guided him through the darkness, showing him the path to the control terminal through fragmentary map data that his 34% synchronization struggled to maintain. Each step sent fresh waves of system feedback through his skull, but he pushed forward anyway.
Six minutes.
The tunnel branched. His Network Authority showed him the correct path—left, then down a maintenance ladder, then through a service corridor that hadn't been used in years. His MP was at 26/100 now, regenerating slowly while he navigated without using active abilities.
Five minutes.
Movement ahead. Takeshi froze, his fragmenting network vision showing him red markers approaching from the opposite direction. Not the main strike force—these were scouts, advance elements checking the freight system for defensive positions before Ishikawa committed his full team.
Two of them. Level 8 and Level 9. Both carrying weapons that glowed with System enhancements.
Takeshi had 28/100 MP, no combat abilities, and a briefcase.
He pressed himself against the tunnel wall, killing his network vision to avoid the telltale glow of active skills. The scouts passed within three meters, their conversation audible in the confined space.
"—says the Corporate Drone sealed three tunnels simultaneously. Unprecedented for a Level 4."
"Doesn't matter. Ishikawa-sama anticipated infrastructure plays. The freight system was always our real approach."
They moved past, heading toward the main platform where they'd find nothing but abandoned monitoring stations and empty defensive positions. Takeshi waited until their footsteps faded before resuming his advance.
Four minutes.
The control terminal came into view—a reinforced door marked with warning signs about authorized personnel only. Takeshi's Network Authority showed him the lock mechanism: physical, not System-based. A keycard reader from the old world, probably non-functional after the apocalypse.
He tried the door. Locked.
Three minutes thirty seconds.
His Monopoly skill's passive awareness showed him the door's structural vulnerabilities. Not many—it was designed to withstand industrial accidents and unauthorized access. But there was a maintenance panel on the left side, secured with bolts that had rusted over years of neglect.
Takeshi used his briefcase as a makeshift pry bar, leveraging his pathetic Strength stat against corroded metal. The panel gave way with a screech that echoed through the tunnel like a gunshot.
Three minutes.
The control terminal's interior was a nightmare of pre-apocalypse technology merged with System architecture. Circuit boards sprouted crystalline growths. Cables pulsed with blue light. And at the center, a master control interface that his Network Authority recognized as the freight system's central override.
Takeshi's fingers flew across the interface, his Corporate Drone class's bureaucratic expertise translating pre-apocalypse maintenance protocols into actionable commands. Seal access shaft seven. Lock maintenance corridor twelve. Disable freight elevator three.
Two minutes thirty seconds.
His Network Authority showed him the freight system responding, access points closing across the network map like wounds being sutured. But there were too many. Dozens of shafts and corridors and service tunnels that Ishikawa could use to bypass the Core chamber's defenses.
Takeshi needed a master override. Something that would seal the entire system simultaneously.
Two minutes.
There. Buried in the control terminal's architecture, a legacy command from Tokyo's pre-apocalypse subway authority: Emergency Lockdown Protocol. Designed for terrorist threats or natural disasters, it would seal every freight access point simultaneously and require physical override at each location to reopen.
Perfect.
Takeshi initiated the command, his Network Authority feeding him confirmation as the freight system began its shutdown sequence. Access points sealing. Elevators locking. Maintenance shafts closing with the mechanical precision of old-world engineering merged with System enforcement.
One minute thirty seconds.
The control terminal's display showed a progress bar: 73% complete.
Footsteps in the tunnel behind him. Multiple sets. Moving fast.
Takeshi's fragmenting Network Authority showed him four red markers approaching his position. The scouts had reported his presence. Ishikawa had sent reinforcements.
One minute.
The progress bar hit 89%.
The door to the control room exploded inward, reinforced metal buckling under a Level 10 Vanguard's enhanced strength. Four figures entered—the scouts from before plus two additional specialists. All of them Level 8 or higher. All of them armed and looking at Takeshi like he was a contract violation that needed immediate termination.
"Step away from the terminal," the lead scout said, his sword glowing with System enhancements. "Seikatsu Consortium has claim to this infrastructure. You're trespassing."
Takeshi's MP was at 34/100. His abilities were still on cooldown for another eight minutes. And the progress bar showed 94%.
"Afraid I can't do that," he said, positioning himself between the scouts and the terminal. "Black Company has territorial authority here. You're the ones trespassing."
The lead scout's expression hardened. "Ishikawa-sama predicted you'd say that. He also predicted you'd be operating without combat abilities. Something about cooldowns from your earlier infrastructure play."
Forty-five seconds.
97%.
"He's right," Takeshi admitted. "My abilities are locked. I'm a Level 4 Corporate Drone with minimal combat stats and no defensive skills available."
"Then this will be quick." The scout advanced, sword raised.
Thirty seconds.
99%.
Takeshi's Monopoly skill showed him one final option. Not a combat ability—those were locked. But his passive awareness of supply chains and market access extended to understanding how resources flowed through infrastructure systems.
Including the freight maintenance shaft's emergency ventilation.
He activated the control terminal's environmental override, flooding the room with compressed air from maintenance vents designed to clear toxic fumes. The sudden pressure change wasn't enough to hurt Level 8+ enemies, but it was enough to destabilize their footing for three critical seconds.
Three seconds while the progress bar hit 100%.
[EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL: ACTIVATED]
All freight system access points sealed
Override requires physical authorization at individual terminals
Duration: Until manually disabled
The freight network map went dark, every access point showing locked status. Ishikawa Riku's fourth approach vector had just collapsed, forcing his strike force into a single chokepoint where Kenji and the others waited with a prepared killbox.
The lead scout lunged, his sword carving through the space where Takeshi had been standing. But Takeshi was already moving, his Corporate Drone class's endurance-focused build letting him maintain mobility despite his depleted state.
He couldn't fight them. But he didn't need to fight them.
He just needed to survive long enough for his team to win.
Takeshi ran.