106 – A Special Birthday #2
High above in the lofty heavens of Olympus, the residents buzzed with preparations for the upcoming event.
"My cousin's birthday is already here?"
Dionysus, the god of festivals, revelry, wine, and madness, swirled his wine glass thoughtfully.
"For immortals like us, birthdays don't hold much meaning."
Only mortals placed significance on birth and aging. For immortals like the underworld executives or the heavenly councilors, counting years was nothing but a nuisance. Plenty had even forgotten their own birthdays.
But Melinoë's birthday—the underworld princess's—was special. It fell on a sweltering summer day when the boundary between the earthly realm and the underworld grew unusually hazy. On that day alone, even the heavenly gods could visit the underworld without any special procedures.
"I hear the underworld has gotten really fun these past few years?"
Dionysus chuckled, shaking his grape-ripened purple locks.
Apollo, the councilor who had been adjusting his attire in the mirror, picked up the thread.
"Seems like it. Who could've guessed that dreary underworld would undergo such radical change with that 'Business Renewal' push?"
"Brother, I'm not talking about Business Renewal. I mean the entertaining employees. Word is there's this amazing worker who's become famous down there. What was his name again—?"
Dionysus squinted his slender eyes. His mind, still foggy from last night's hangover, struggled to recall.
In any case, the heavenly gods would each head to the underworld with their own goals and curiosities. Though a touch of apprehension lingered too.
"Wonder if Melinoë's still as prickly as ever."
"Probably."
Dionysus and Apollo pictured their cousin. Melinoë, the goddess of ghosts—eerie, prickly, and ruthlessly cold. Even in the heavens, few goddesses matched her chill.
Getting close to her was no easy feat.
"At this rate, she'll never get married."
Dionysus's low murmur drew the attention of a woman lounging in a chair, idly swinging her leg. She wore a crescent moon headband and draped deer and bear pelts over her shoulders like a cloak—Artemis, the huntress.
"Ha? Married? Obviously, she should stay a virgin goddess! No boyfriends or husbands for her. Melly and I are in the Crescent Moon Alliance."
"Crescent Moon Alliance? Ha! That pack of wild bitches?"
A man whose mere gaze seemed to stir war cries tossed in his two cents. Ares, god of strife and fury.
Artemis bristled at his words.
"Wanna test how wild we are?"
"No. But I've heard our cousin Princess Melinoë isn't the same anymore. Not savage. No hysterics."
"Maybe she's in love? Nothing's as destructively creative as love. I hear she even has a man now…."
A woman with golden tresses veiling her beautiful nude form giggled softly. Aphrodite, goddess of love and romance.
Artemis scowled. Love? It didn't suit the ghostly princess, mysterious as a new moon and eerie as a crescent sliver.
But if it was true?
"Has any underworld executive caught Melinoë's eye?"
Unlike the heavenly councilors, the underworld execs were a strict bunch. Appealing in their own way, perhaps—but Artemis shook her head.
"If some irreverent scum seduced my cousin, I'll pin an arrow through his heart! I'll protect her myself!"
Shing—
Dionysus laughed heartily at Artemis nocking her bow.
"That'd be a sight. So, where's our Chairman? He's been away for years now. Just sends kimchi every kimjang season. Tasty, but still."
# # #
"Masks for sale! Masks!"
"Dream tickets to appear in your descendants' dreams—get yours now!"
Pandora Market was rowdier than usual, abuzz with excitement. All because Lady Melinoë's birthday was approaching.
"On the princess's birthday, the boundary between earth and underworld blurs like crazy. Sometimes earthlings visit us, sometimes we head up top."
According to Cyclops Sai, Melinoë's birthday thinned the veil between the living world and the afterlife, sparking exchanges. Ghosts might slip into descendants' dreams on earth or don special masks for a jaunt topside.
It's like Halloween.
Why had I only learned now about this raucous festival?
Makenoi from the market's general affairs team answered my curiosity.
"Princess Melinoë's birthday is June 33rd, which only comes every five years…! A birthday bash once every five years…!"
There was no 33rd in June. But in the underworld calendar, June stretched to 33 days every five years, apparently.
I thought I'd adapted to underworld life, but gaps like this still yawned wide.
"So, Mr. Joey. What brings you here?"
Cyclops Sai's polite question gave me pause as I pondered.
My reason for visiting the market was simple.
"Just wondering what gift she'd like."
I planned to royally screw up Melinoë's birthday party. But a nagging corner of my conscience kept whispering otherwise.
Is it really okay to trash someone else's birthday like that? What kind of asshole does that?
The compromise? I'd prepare a killer gift to soften the blow a bit. Ease my guilty conscience.
Pandora Market boasted "Anything you want, we got it." Surely they'd have something to win over the picky princess.
Come to think of it, what does Melinoë like?
I didn't really know. Probably special honey candy or honeypot ant treats like the nymphs. But handing those out in public as a "gift"? My head might end up flat.
She seems to like cute animals too.
Melinoë enjoyed foraging in the bushes for ants, dandelion puffs, hell ladybugs. She walked her hell puppy—the new hire—religiously.
But gifting a pet? Her circle was already animal central.
"Anyone here?"
Rattle—
I'd found the sundries shop. A unfamiliar woman greeted me.
"Heard you went to HQ, but you're back often."
"Who are you?"
"Can't you tell? It's Oinone."
The turbaned married shopkeeper. Unwinding it made her look totally different. Classic Greek beauty. Hard to believe her husband cheated with that face.
"Here for a gift to impress Princess Melinoë? Her birthday's soon, and you wanna score points for your career, right?"
Half right, half wrong. But yeah, gift shopping—impressive intuition.
"Oinone, you're sharp. Think you have what I'm looking for? Something that'd forgive even my worst sins against her."
I eyed the flower bracelet on her wrist. Flowers for the princess? Nah, she'd probably chew 'em up. Too simple.
As I mulled, Oinone spoke.
"Not something I share lightly. But I owe you, Joey, so special exception. I hate debts."
Glance—
She scanned around.
"Know what the execs crave most? Shares. More shares amplify their power. Lose 'em, and they fade into oblivion."
Shares. The exec baseline. Melinoë desperately wanted them to beat Prince Zagreus in the succession race and claim CEO.
"Somewhere in this Soul Society lies an untouched relic brimming with miracle shares. Even the Tartarus rebels want it."
"Rebels? If real, that's huge."
"Totally real. I heard it firsthand in Tartarus."
What? Married Oinone was a rebel?
I frowned; she shrugged.
"You knew, right? The Monster Pen Hydra rampage? My drugs. Just an 'assistant,' though."
"Never heard that."
Keep it secret. If word spread, it'd be "Joey caught a rebel helper!"—trouble city. No thanks.
"Problem: it's in rebel turf, near the Lethe River ruins. Even you, Mr. Famous, couldn't sneak in undetected."
Rebel zone miracle relic? Piece of cake for me.
"Thanks for the tip, Oinone. If it pans out, I won't forget to repay you."
Time to hustle. Back to HQ CEO office.
The skeleton guards' eyes gleamed at me.
"Deputy Manager Joey."
"What brings you?"
"I'm Chairman's temp secretary for the next few days. Here's the official memo and seal."
I flashed the papers: Chairman appointing me secretary to run Melinoë's party smoothly, complete with stamp.
"Need to grab something from the office."
"Yes, sir."
"Go ahead."
Slide—
I breezed past into the office. Target: the helmet Queneë on the neatly arrayed armor stand.
The perfect invisibility helm, erasing the wearer's presence.
A mere mortal reaching for that? Utter madness.
That's why I did it.
No one could stop me.
I've figured it out! The key to getting fired and disciplined!