.02 News: FreelancerMature

Kayli walked down the dark alleyway until she reached another wall. She groped around in the dark until she found a hidden crevice in which she wiggled her finger in until she could gently jab the hidden button. The door swung open and Kayli walk in.

The freelancers’ underground headquarters was in fact an old abandoned tavern. There weren’t too many taverns that stayed abandoned and they only barely managed to keep this one abandoned with a ghost rumor. Nothing else scared undergrounders more than ghosts. It was absolutely ridiculous, but no one was going to complain.

“Miss Rose.” A secretary walked up with a letter. Kayli took the letter and ripped it open, revealing two thin sheets of fragile parchment, probably ripped out from some old preserved book stolen from one of the domes.

Kayli scanned the letter. Another long rambling report about how the overland headquarters were doing fine except they almost got caught again, and that in the process of trying to avoid getting caught, they lost all their data and they had to recover all of it and it was a huge pain in the arse (at that point, Kayli bursted out laughing) because of all of the overworked slow technology and how when they finally finished recovering, they were so tired that they couldn’t work for the next few days and by then they were so behind they thought it was pointless to try to catch back up and so on and so on.

So basically, they got nothing done.

Kayli ripped the letter up and threw in the nearest trash bin.

“Send a letter back and tell them that if they don’t get work done again, I will fire them all.”

“But Miss....”

“Don’t but me. These airheads haven’t done anything for the past year and a half. Firing them all will do them some good.”

The secretary nodded and left.

Kayli sighed and walked up to her office. The door was slightly ajar.

That’s weird.

She never left her door unlocked. Too many important documents at risk. Did she forget? Kayli pushed the door open gingerly and peaked in. She saw figure of a teenage boy around the same age as her sitting in her chair. The chair swiveled around.

“Miss Rose, you’re late.”

The End

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