Zoli actually had quite a good life. True, that life was spent on a not-so-important planet in a hidden, not-too-significant solar system, the kind of planet that at the start of five-part trilogies is destroyed to make room for a space highway. He was a citizen of a not-very-important country on the planet, belonging to a not-very-important but mostly harmless species.


    Although Homo Sapiens Sapiens - the former species of Zoli - was found in many places in all the multiverses, their significance did not even make it into the Top 100. Truth be told, they were in the bottom third of the list (just above Goblins, Kobolds, Ratlings, and Lawyers), no matter how much people everywhere believed they were the crowns of creation.


    Despite his disability of coming from a boring little country in the ass-end of the multiverses, he did manage to have a comfortable and well-off life. Many called him evil, opportunistic, and prone to bullshitting his way through life, but these were the prerequisites for making a career – in his case becoming the HR manager for the local branch of a multinational company at an age of 35.


    He worked hard: had to take a lot of coffee breaks, networking, attend meetings to discuss the next meeting''s topics, make his lowly wage slaves make colorful charts, and collect discriminating data on the other wage slaves of the company, so if some of his managed-buddies wanted to fire someone (just to make room for their current bed-warmer or one of their idiotic relatives) the company was on the safe side and could prove how bad a slave it was.


    He even had to attend "trainings" (i.e. drinking sessions with other managers) in high-class hotels with all expenses covered! He didn''t understand, why others had such a negative opinion of him and looked down on him. He even gave money to a charity and helped out in a foundation of one of his buddies once a year! Of course, not in the fieldwork, but in directing other volunteers.


    Everything counted, he had a nice and good life.


    That is until he died.


    No, he was not killed by a truck trying to save some random passerby. He wasn''t stabbed, shot, or exploded in some attacks. No airplane crashed onto his head, there was no train wreck and he didn''t even drown in a yachting accident. Nothing so pedestrian. His death was a bit more embarrassing: he suffered a heart attack while getting head from his secretary in the manager''s toilet, and while falling down, he cracked his skull on the porcelain throne.


    His last memory of Earth was his secretary, who tried to clean her dress frantically of the previous activities'' remains. Oh yeah, she was married…


    He didn''t know, what to expect from the afterlife, but a nice executive office with large windows showing a planet wasn''t in his expectations. Neither was an alien in a Hawaii shirt and slacks sitting behind a huge desk. It was vaguely Human-looking, with cream-colored skin, short, green hair, pointy ears, and small, sharp teeth.


    “Ah, welcome, welcome! Dear Human, take a seat!" He (it?) waved a hand towards a small table and comfortable-looking leather armchairs. "Let me introduce myself, my name is Xdconfdsgnasdg, I''m the Administrator of this world, and I have a proposition for you. You could say, it''s a job offer."


    Let me guess, Zoli thought, a young and dynamic team, diverse and creative work, competitive salary, a pleasant atmosphere, and non-salary benefits. Dude, I’m working for HR! No one believes that stuff anyway!


    However, he didn’t say it out loud, just nodded.


    “You see, I have a bit of a problem. I want to have the biggest and grandest dungeon in all the multiverses, so I asked the daughter of a friend to help me out. See, little Sandy is working for the Afterlife Administration Bureau, and although she is very enthusiastic, her competence is… let’s say, not on the same level.”


    Zoli didn''t really understand, why someone wanted the biggest and grandest prison in existence, but hey, every CEO had his hobbies. Collecting cars, having a large yacht, or other, not-so-legal stuff. Having a really big prison when you have a whole planet was just run-of-the-mill.


    “See, I had this idea about an open-air dungeon in its own pocket dimension, so I asked her for the soul of an environmental engineer. The little shit I received was an engineer, yes – a communication engineer, that is – but an environmental activist.”


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    Zoli was a bit confused. An open-air prison was another name for a prison camp, and why would someone need an environmental engineer for it, and not, say construction or a security one? But yes, getting an activist was never good. You had to dig deep and collect a lot of evidence to fire one, they gave bad press when fired.


    “I spared no expenses! Gave her cheat powers, unlimited access to all of my monster species, even resurrected some extinct ones, bought a few others, and what did she do with all those?”


    Zoli still didn''t understand. And even less. Why would a prison camp need monsters? As guards, maybe? But if the camp was in its own dimension, why need guards in the first place? Something was fishy, or the honored CEO was batshit crazy. However, as long the job was well paid, the honored CEO was not crazy, but eccentric.


    “SHE MADE MY DUNGEON INTO A WILDLIFE PRESERVE!!!" The honored planet-CEO was shouting at this point.


    Yes, that was bad. Delivering a wildlife preserve instead of a prison camp was really bad, Zoli wouldn''t need to make his underlings dig anymore, such a flagrant breach of contract would warrant immediate termination. That''s why you never hire activists, Zoli nodded.


    “See? Even you agree! She even made a visitors center with slogans about protecting the environment, educational boards for the different species, and an endless propaganda speech from the loudspeaker telling how bad is to kill animals and plants!"


    “With THAT I would have no real problem, disinformation in a dungeon is a good thing. The guided tours were questionable but maybe could have worked. BUT! The bitch made every monster unkillable, and even if one picked a pretty flower, the whole dungeon, including the guides, descended onto the perpetrator with extreme prejudice. No loot, certain death, and complete unfairness is not a way, how a dungeon works!"


    Zoli started to realize, the alien wasn''t talking about a prison. Obviously, it wasn''t a problem that the chick built a park, but that it wasn''t fair and killed folks too fast? If Zoli had even a little bit of RPG- or gaming experience, he would have realized it earlier: the dungeon in question was not the variety with small cells and an over-abundance of chains and torture, but the getting rich fast in exchange for mortal danger one.


    But Zoli had no such experience.


    “She refused to open it to the general public! What good is a dungeon, even her shitty, worthless one, if it''s not open! She talked about the rights of animals and trees and pretty flowers! Refused to work according to the rules! Talked about how cruel and unsafe it would be! Refused to at least give out loot! Said, it would encourage animal abuse! That was the point, I created a Hell for my world, and put her into it as sole occupant!”


    “So, I have now a not-working dungeon I have spared no expenses to create and no one to run said dungeon. This is where you come in, dear mortal Human.”


    Alarm bells were going off inside Zoli''s head. Would he be hired to recondition a wildlife preserve-prison camp into a fair killing ground and then run it?


    “I posted a new application to Sandy and the AAB for someone with the ruthlessness and knowledge to run my dungeon, and make it into the biggest and grandest dungeon in all the multiverses! You were the first applicant I got. According to your file, you made the life of a lot of people a living hell, terminated a lot of others yourself, and been a committed, medium-ranked slave-driver for your overlords! That''s perfect!"


    Zoli would have used more politically correct terms, but the file was obviously correct. He was a medium-ranked manager in the company, and kept the interests of said company as his priority, even if the wage slaves couldn''t see the big picture and just complained. And yes, he has fired a lot of people for not working diligently enough and making mistakes that cost the company money, that could have been spent on further benefits for managers and the CEO.


    “See this offer as a potential for a very long lasting, but easy and fulfilling job. You could meet a lot of people, albeit briefly, and could fulfill all your talents from your last life! By long term I mean as long you don''t retire or are fired – potentially HUNDREDS of years! THOUSANDS! That is what I call job security! Wouldn''t you agree?"


    “Or fired” was a flag for someone, who made a living of firing people. He needed to see the contract before he agreed to anything. And find out, what the job would include. But, if the pay was good, he could probably bullshit his way through, as he did previously.


    “Sir, could you please elaborate on the contract, the job description, and the benefits?"