102 – Love is Scary! #1
"Closed due to store circumstances."
"See you next week with a fresher look."
Happy Variety Store didn't open its doors today either.
I wondered where the lady owner might be and what she was up to, but honestly, I had no spare energy to worry about others right now. All I could manage was checking the headbands on the people wandering the streets.
"Your headband is so pretty. What flower is that made from? I've been seeing them everywhere lately."
"It's the Oinoi flower. Funny name, right? Some folks are selling them in the park!"
"Let's go check it out!"
Oinoi flower? What an odd name for a bloom.
But nothing special about it. In this Soul Society, weird is just normal.
I headed up to the third-floor office and packed my things into my bag. "Things" meaning just a few documents and some pens—writing tools, that's it.
"Joey, got everything?"
"Yes, Mr. Odysseus. Thanks for everything during my time here."
"Thanks? I didn't do a thing. But your luggage is awfully light."
"I didn't sit at this desk for long."
"Time, huh... Look at the new hires' desks. They've only been employed for about two weeks, but theirs are piled high with stuff."
Odysseus's eyes gleamed sharply.
"The difference between a traveler and a resident, I suppose. You've kept your belongings minimal so you could leave this desk anytime, haven't you? Easy to pack up and go. Am I wrong?"
Odysseus was as sharp and wise as ever. He'd figured out I was minimizing my stuff to bolt from this market whenever.
But his deduction wasn't spot-on.
"You were certain you'd return to headquarters. You fully intended to succeed here in this dump everyone called a demotion pit. Am I wrong?"
Completely off. I had no idea I'd end up heading back to HQ. All I wanted was to go home to the surface.
I craved Mom's soybean paste stew, loaded with gravel beans and fierce green chilies.
But in the end, my surface escape failed. Who could've predicted it?
"Well then, Mr. Odysseus. I'll drop by often. Whenever HQ gets boring, I'll swing through. Maybe every day."
I grabbed my bag and left the office.
But the hallway, dead quiet on my way in this morning, was now buzzing with a crowd.
I spotted Cyclops Sai, South Gate's idol Helen, Makenoi, and even Nureongi.
"Mr. Joey. Thanks for everything—and congratulations. I never doubted for a second you'd return to headquarters."
Sai bowed deeply, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Congrats on the HQ comeback!"
"Come visit anytime! Anything you want, on the house—I'll hook you up big time!"
"Thanks to you, the market's buzzing with life!"
Free stuff, huh. Crowzer would love that.
But honestly, it just made my conscience twinge with guilt.
Because all I ever planned was to fail here and get fired.
"Everyone, I owe you all so much. But let me be clear: I did nothing for this market."
Even if I contributed something, my share would be minuscule.
So why did all this happen—
"Truth be told, this Pandora Market would've bustled and thrived again without me. The merchants here prep their shops at 4 a.m. every day."
—why did it happen?
Because of the hardworking folks living their lives fiercely.
These market residents lived more intensely than any I'd seen. That was the problem.
People like that bounce back no matter how many times they fall.
I just got swept up in the wave of life they created while standing nearby.
"I'm glad I came to Pandora Market. In this Soul Society where days drag lazily, no place changes moment to moment like this. Life on the surface is like a scorching summer. So is the life here. It mirrors the surface. And I'm a living guy saying it, so you can trust me."
I felt a nostalgic pull of the surface world here.
"Seeing Pandora Market, I can boldly say that even in this Soul Society, a brilliant, blazing life like the surface can continue. But now I'm off to boring HQ. I'll miss running around here, rubbing elbows with you all."
My demotion stint lasted barely a month. Just that.
But these memories? They'll stick till my dying breath.
"Until we meet again, everyone—farewell."
I waved, and hands bloomed like flowers overhead, waving wildly side to side.
So long, my demotion dump!
A dimly lit stone chamber like an underground dungeon, flickering with eerie candlelight.
Skeletons with glowing red eyes gathered around a central mahogany round table.
"Hector. Long time."
"Achilles. And you got tangled in that unsavory incident recently?"
"A humiliating affair. If Joey hadn't risked it all to step in, it'd have been far worse. Me falling for the Trojan Horse ploy... who saw that coming?!"
Achilles's eyes blazed with fury and relief, then dimmed. His piercing gaze now scanned the room.
"So, not everyone here yet? It's not just us two. Odysseus is busy with market stuff, fine—but the rest should have time."
"This isn't ordinary, so opinions are split even among us. Manager in under five years? A living man, no less! Bound to stir complaints."
"Hector, honestly, I can't blame them. If I hadn't met Joey myself recently, I'd think the same. We all clawed our way to manager."
This underground prison gathering was the elite skeletons' "Manager Exchange Meet"—department heads collaborating, competing, sharing intel. Mostly heroes, so also called the "Hero Comrades Club." Or just "elite skeleton pileup," given the bony crowd.
Clack-clack.
A woman with brown hair tied back took her seat.
"Manager Hippolyte! Busy as you are, thanks for coming."
Thanksgiving Team 1's Manager Hector stood and bowed. Welfare Team's Manager Hippolyte sat calmly.
"With this agenda, had to. Three of us now—let's start."
Thud.
Hippolyte slid a few documents onto the table.
From hiring to present: key activities documented. Gold mine discovery in Happy World, Pandora Market revival, etc.
Rustle-rustle-rustle.
The file on Joey's deeds stretched endlessly. Its length rivaled their own heroic exploits.
Thump.
Hippolyte placed her palm on the table.
"Plenty here to justify his manager reinstatement. But like us, he needs aptitude verification. Secret audits incoming."
In Soul Society HQ, manager wasn't for just anyone. Right under execs—the pinnacle for mortals. Thus, utmost scrutiny required.
"Well, that guy? He'll breeze through."
Hippolyte snorted.
Then—
Creeeak.
The door opened, revealing a man with curly blond hair.
"I'll handle that audit. Here's consent from Manager Theseus and others. Hope you'll sign too. Who better than me?"
Curly blond... Hector tsked, reminded of his fool brother Paris. Achilles frowned, recalling the arrow Paris shot him with.
But this blond curler was leagues above bumbling Paris.
"HR's Manager Iason. You stepping up yourself?"
Welfare's Hippolyte was stunned. Iason led the "Iason Project"—heroic supergroup task force. Captain and guild master who'd recruited countless legends. Unmatched eye for talent.
"Secret audit's already underway. Joey won't have noticed. Even Argo's crew? They'd barely survive at 10% odds."
Iason bragged confidently.
But Hector just chuckled.
"Manager Iason, for Joey, anything above 0% is 100%. Don't underestimate him."
"Maybe. Everyone has flaws. Especially high-climbers like us—money troubles always snag."
Even afterlife vets like Achilles and Hector couldn't deny HR Iason's point.
Money. Even here, it stirred endless drama. At manager level, shady dealings piled up—bribes, etc.
Rustle-rustle.
Achilles was shocked.
"High base plus bonuses. Spending must match... Rent's low. Irregularities?"
"No scandal, Achilles. Company single dorm."
"That cramped dump? Why?"
Achilles chased glory and luxury in life. Couldn't fathom a high-earner like Joey in a dingy dorm.
"With that income, he could snag an Elysium apartment."
"Frugal. Food expenses minimal too. But what's this Happy Snack House? Weekly seven times?"
Minus the seven identical diner visits, nothing odd. Occasional buys: cacti, flowers.
"Hate to say it, but what a dull life."
Even ascetic Hector shook his head at Joey's spending.
Iason's narrow eyes widened.
"Fine, no money disqualifiers. Staff'll dig deeper. But this?"
He raised his pinky.
"Romantic entanglements. A catch like Joey? Tons of admirers, flashy history. Maybe guys too."
Plenty derailed by old scandals post-fame. Even Iason with ex Medea.
Hector and Achilles clammed up, unable to defend Joey easily.
Iason seized the moment, chattering excitedly.
"Heard rumors. Joey's secretly dating some woman. Secret romance? What shame hides a love?"
Plop.
Iason slapped a photo down. Joey holding someone's hand—woman's, probably. But CCTV blurred by a fluffy ghost, identity hidden.
"Caught in shady rendezvous with someone he can't show off. Maybe married! I'll uncover it all—watch me!"