105 – A Special Birthday #1
I'd realized it. The essence of failure!
Failure means shattering. Like hurling a fragile glass version of myself against the boulder of harsh trials to smash it to pieces.
"I held Melinoë's hand and strolled through the park. I was on track to become the head of this headquarters—and I did—so isn't that the least I could do?!"
"Y-yes... yoooouuuu insolent fool!"
Crash! The glass window shattered.
Rumble rumble rumble— The headquarters shook like there was an earthquake. No, the entire Soul Society was trembling.
"I thought you'd at least have the decency to lie! Are you truly fearless enough to defy even me, Hades, the sovereign of death?!"
"If you want to stop me, there's only one way—fire me right here and now! Go ahead, try it!"
"Fire you? There's no law saying I have to sack an employee just for a bit of dating! That's why you're blustering like this!"
"So you're not going to kick me out?"
No! The boulder that was supposed to shatter me is running away!
I tensed up in every sense of the word, but then the Chairman added,
"Jo Iseo, Department Head, I hereby temporarily appoint you as staff in the Chairman's Secretariat."
Chairman’s Secretariat staff? Why?!
This wasn't the outcome I wanted. As I trembled—shiver shiver—a demonic shadow fell over the Chairman's face.
"My daughter Melinoë's birthday is coming up soon. Guests from the Olympus Council on Earth will be attending in droves. You're in charge of that event—make it a success! Do that, and I'll overlook the hand-holding."
"I'll be personally handling Melinoë's birthday party...!?"
"Afraid? Catering to the whims of those arrogant, finicky Olympian gods? Unlike the rigid executives of the underworld, the heavenly council gods are especially capricious. It's only natural to be scared."
What good was explaining the Olympians' fickleness and pickiness? With my abilities, preparing a party to their tastes was impossible.
'Actually, perfect. A chance to expose my incompetence to the world. But...'
If the party was so half-assed it felt like an insult to the gods, I might not just get fired—I could end up actually dead. Worst case, turned into a Hell Cockroach.
It was a poisoned chalice, truly. Drink or not? The answer was decided from the start.
"I'll prepare the best party possible."
Whoosh— I swiftly backed away. Better to escape before the Chairman changed his mind.
Back in the employee lounge, Deputy Narcissus was waiting for me.
"Department Head Jo! I heard from Moros—you just met with the Chairman! That earthquake earlier was because of it, right? He must've been furious!"
"He was livid."
I'd confronted the Chairman head-on. A mere underworld messenger acting insolent toward the King of Hell—I figured instant dismissal wouldn't be surprising.
But the Chairman was stubbornly principled, almost rigidly so.
'Back in grad school, my head would've been crushed on the spot.'
Writing my master's thesis under Professor Zeusoo was a nightmare. How many batches of kimchi did I make to suit that picky prof's tastes? Compared to him, the Chairman seemed almost too fair—practically lenient.
Thinking that way, life in the Soul Society might not be so bad—
"Gah!"
Snap out of it! This place is hell masquerading as the Soul Society! I need to get back to Earth!
Slap slap. I smacked my cheeks to reprimand myself.
Today, too, I walked through the quiet park with Melinoë.
It was barely thirty minutes after dinner post-work, but these strolls had become our daily routine.
"...That!"
Swish! Melinoë suddenly dashed into the park bushes.
What? What the hell?
"Look at this. A pumpkin honeybee. So plump and round."
Buzz buzz— In Melinoë's hand from the bushes was a balloon-sized, rotund pumpkin bee, wiggling its chubby butt side to side.
"You pathetic little bee. Don't you know escape is impossible once caught in the hands of a perfect goddess? No use struggling—it's all within the palm of this Melinoë."
Buzz... buzz...
Melinoë often did this—diving into bushes to catch bugs. Like a girl buzzing with summer vacation excitement.
At the office, she was a ruthlessly cold, perfect businesswoman.
Nymphs crossed my mind. Nymphs like Carnoy or Paranoy loved catching bugs and dancing around—did Melinoë have that trait too?
Then she thrust the pumpkin honeybee at my face.
"Jo Iseo, even seeing such a rare pumpkin honeybee, your reaction is so tepid. What's wrong? Some worry?"
"Nothing much. I just heard your birthday's coming up."
"Birthday."
Melinoë's brow furrowed instantly. Her flawless beauty made even that wrinkle intimidating.
"A goddess doesn't age, so fussing over the day I was born every year is just annoying. In fact, across Earth and the underworld, I'm the only goddess who still celebrates it as an adult."
Only Melinoë among the gods bothers with birthdays? Surprising. It must mean how much the Chairman dotes on her.
Handing me the reins to plan and execute that party was a big deal, in a way.
"It's just a casual family gathering, like a social meetup. Jo Iseo, no need to overthink it. You don't have to do anything special."
Her hand didn't fidget at all as she said it. She really seemed to hate birthdays.
"Speaking of, when's your birthday, Jo Iseo? I'd love to meet your parents sometime. Wonder if they'd like me."
Melinoë meeting my parents. Just imagining it squeezed my heart with tension.
"Mom's on Earth, and Dad's passed, so they probably can't meet you."
"Your Earth mom, fine—but if your dad became an underworld resident, maybe he's somewhere in the Soul Society? We could make time to look."
"I checked just in case, but he's not here. Maybe at Yama's Dongbang Stock Company or Astaroth's family place, Heaven Company."
"Other underworlds, huh. Guess meeting's tough then."
The walk and chat ended there. I went home alone and pondered.
'How can I subtly screw up Melinoë's birthday party?'
Ruin it enough to get fired, but not so bad I get divine punishment, turned into a Hell Cockroach, or murdered.
A tightrope walk—one millimeter off, and I'd plummet into the abyss of flames.
Tightrope. That screams clown, right?
A great idea hit me.
The next day, I sought out Crowzer loafing in the office.
"Parties and festivals? That's this Crowzer's specialty."
"Can you perform at Princess Melinoë's upcoming birthday party?"
"You mean the big bash where even the Olympus Council gods show up? Not many musicians can handle that high-stakes stage. You came to the right place! I'm your man!"
Thump thump. Seeing him pound his chest filled me with both anxiety and reassurance.
Anxiety because I knew he was a walking disaster. Reassurance for the same reason.
'Every time with Crowzer, it's always a chaotic mess. So far, my bad luck turned it into good outcomes. But this time... maybe not.'
The problem was the carrot. If I'm planning to sabotage, I need a solid success plan too.
Balancing failure and success on that tightrope. That way, my firing happens naturally without murder or cockroach-ification.
Something like this:
—Crowzer's performance was so awful, I wanted to turn Jo Iseo into a Hell Cockroach.
—But everything else was great, right? So just fire him and call it even!
Perfect.
So I headed to the E&S office. Eurydol and the sirens—now the underworld's top singers—would be the perfect carrot.
"Eurydol, what do you think of my proposal? Nail this stage, and E&S's fame spreads beyond Soul Society to Earth."
"Fame? Not my concern. I sing for freedom. My soul's freedom. Not to pander to big shots with my guitar."
Eurydol was one hell of a hipster. But Siren Rilke was all about the glitz.
"Let's do it! Succeed at a party even Olympian gods attend, and we'll surpass that great Orpheus—proven top singers!"
"This Carnoy doesn't get it, but it sounds fun...!"
"Echo! Refill on fish cake broth!"
Crowzer was already on his tenth refill. Kind-hearted Echo couldn't refuse and even threw in extra fish cakes.
But the diner owner was fuming.
"You rotten punk! Why skimp like that?! And you're the only one brazen enough to run a tab and act entitled!"
"Ahem, no worries. I'm not planning to dine and dash. I was gonna pay up today. Here—"
Crowzer rummaged in his bag. The skeleton owner's eyes lit with hope he'd pull out a wallet for the tab.
But out came not a wallet—a stringed instrument.
Echo spotted it first.
"......!"
"That's right. A biwa made from your hair, Miss Echo. Think I came here just for meals? Nymph hair isn't easy to come by."
Using fallen hair from the floor for an instrument. Even sweet Echo's face soured instantly.
Pervert! I thought.
But—
Ting-a-ling. Crowzer strummed, and Echo jumped.
She'd never imagined an instrument from her hair could sound so pure.
"I'll settle my tab with this one song. My new piece, never heard anywhere—censored by Security. The melody of my soul, titled—"
"Bullshit! No money, no eating! Get out!"
The owner snapped, yanking her seventh rib like a sword.
She swung it—whoosh whoosh—unleashing blade-like energy. Crowzer fled in tatters.
"Hey! Come on! But mark my words, owner! If my performance at the Princess's birthday party succeeds, you'll regret not getting my autograph!"