Much to the dismay of the traditionalists within the Chosen ranks, the Grand Temple's conversion into a model training facility went off without a hitch. A large team of trainers and spiritual counselors was standing by on location, preparing their lessons and props for the incoming wave of students. The rest was in the hands of the recruitment division, which was busy filling out the class rosters and sorting out the logistics of housing, feeding, and transporting the herd of lost sheep.
The acting head of the recruitment division, a powerful psychic known as Afterlife, was overseeing the work and keeping an eye on the clock. He was a middle-aged man with thin brown hair and a bit of a gut. He was a born and bred Grandebellite who loved his city, a quiet, steady sort of guy who inspired trust and respect from those around him. He was also a master of his craft, and he had a reputation as one of the best managers in the business.
His second-in-command, Nailer, was a brutal man with a shaved head and a muscular body covered in tattoos. Nailer was the sort of person who took the term 'headhunting' literally. He was infamous for poaching the best of the best from the competition to fill his own personal staff of elite assassins.
Nailer was currently pacing back and forth in front of a massive chalkboard, which was covered in rows of names, dates, and locations.
"The Hands of Light aren't giving us enough to work with. We barely got our slots filled up for our first event at the Temple, here... this isn't going to be sustainable if we can't get our hands on more recruits."
Afterlife was sitting at his desk reviewing the roster of new recruits on his computer. His eyes scanned over the report, and he frowned slightly. Nailer continued, barely concealing his anger.
"They're barely housing anyone at those shelters. They aren't sending us enough people. I thought the donors were giving plenty!"
Afterlife looked down at his list again, frown deepening. He took a moment to think. It was true; the Hands of Light were slipping a little lately. They were having trouble finding new volunteers after the riots, and the homeless were a little more wary these days. The Chosen Ones were struggling to find new recruits despite the fact that they were offering big bonuses and fast promotions to the right candidates.
"You're right. Low numbers, low quality. Low quality is okay, but we need more. This isn't working, so we're going to try something different. Come here. Look at this."
The muscular assassin strode over to the desk. The report just looked like a bunch of words and numbers to him.
"What am I supposed to be seeing?"
"Nuke usage in teenagers and kids. See the spike? We need to be recruiting from schools. You know, high schools, colleges... anywhere with lots of young talent. That's where you get the real gold. Highly motivated, high potential for development, and they'll be happy to get a little money in their pockets."
"I'm gonna say no."
"Hmmph. Maybe this will change your mind."
Nailer leaned down next to the screen, squinting at it. Afterlife pointed to a name on the graph, and the big man scowled in disbelief.
"...what the hell is this kid doing? He's only thirteen years old."
"He's an orphan," said Afterlife calmly. "A kid whose parents were killed. We can give him a chance to make something of his life. We can give him a family."
Nailer rubbed his forehead. He was beginning to get a headache.
"Look, I'm not saying this kid can't be trained. But we have enough brats running around the Tower as is. Why don't we just start an orphanage or something? We could make it look all official and snatch the little guys right out of their worthless parents' arms."
Afterlike chuckled darkly, still staring at the screen.
"Let's stick with schools for now. I'll talk with the Hands of Light and see if we can get some help there. Maybe we could start with a community outreach program."
The challenge of recruitment was one of timing. The ideal candidate was someone with the right qualification who was ready to get started right away, but the reality was most candidates were lacking in skills, motivation, or both. The Chosen Ones' recruitment division specialized in identifying and approach the perfect people as quickly as possible before their competitors swooped in on them. But they were starting to see the value in a different philosophy: seeking out promising young people with good prospects of success without even considering their background or current level of experience.
It was an interesting idea, but Nailer wasn't convinced it was a viable strategy yet. Of course he wanted the best and most promising young people on his team, but the cost of training new employees was astronomical and the Chosen Ones didn't have any money to waste on poor-quality personnel. There were plenty of ways of finding skilled manpower that were far cheaper, faster and more effective than tricking a bunch of elementary schoolers into wearing black robes and swearing undying loyalty to the Elders.
But Nailer knew the Chosen Ones would always choose quantity over quality in the end. The organization was in the midst of its greatest expansion ever, and the stakes couldn't be higher. If they were desperate enough to fill their ranks with a bunch of little lost orphan boys, then so be it.
"You want me to use my contacts to get us access to private schools?"
"Public schools."
"Public schools... you've got it, boss. I'll see if any of the local high schools are looking for summer internship programs, guest lecturer spots... grants, sponsorships, we'll figure it out. You want kids, I'll get you kids. Just leave it to me."
