128 – Achieving 120% Ratings! #1

Myrmex—μύρμηξ in ancient Greek—meant "ant." The young man named Myrmex worked diligently, just like his namesake. He wasn't exceptionally talented at anything, but since he had so many shortcomings and clumsiness, he had to work a little harder than others just to keep up.

He worked as a cleaner in the Mycenae region. It was a job where no matter how hard you toiled, no one noticed or praised you. Still, Myrmex labored on silently like an ant, without complaint. He saved bit by bit and dreamed of one day marrying Melissa, the woman he had a crush on.

But Melissa rejected Myrmex's affections.

"Myrmex, I know you're diligent and all, but life with you would be so boring. Why don't you try enjoying life a bit more? Go hunting in the nearby forest or something."

To win the favor of the girl he loved, Myrmex left the village for the first time in his life. But as soon as he entered the nearby woods, trouble struck. A monster known as the Nemean Lion appeared.

—Roar...!

At that terrifying roar, Myrmex—who had lived far from adventure or challenge—felt his heart stop. As his vision faded, he thought:

Ah... So this is how my life ends. I wonder what the afterlife will be like. It was frightening, but also strangely exciting. He hoped tomorrow's self would be different from yesterday's—

"Deputy Myrmex, what are you spacing out for?"

The afterlife. Myrmex got a job at Happy World. It was possible because he was such a diligent worker. Hired in the General Affairs Department, he spent his days sorting documents, cleaning, and organizing supplies. It was thankless work that went unnoticed, but someone had to do it, and Myrmex took immense pride in his role.

Every day. Every day. Every day. Every day. Like the ant he was named for, he toiled on.

Life in the Soul Society was even harsher than on earth. Until he lost his sense of self and became a ghost, his days would stretch on identically, one after another.

"......"

Then one day, as he lay down to sleep before the next day's commute, a thought crossed Myrmex's mind.

There's no difference between life before death and now.

Myrmex recalled himself on the brink of death. The moment he'd mustered courage to step into the forest for Melissa's favor. The first time his chest had swelled with excitement, his breath quickened, his cheeks flushed with the unknown challenge ahead. He wondered if he'd ever feel that again.

And now—

"Anyone who wants to say goodbye to yesterday's self, stand up! Those who look forward to tomorrow and want to sleep with anticipation, follow me! I'll be with you all!"

Manager Jo shouted to the crowd. He was an incredible figure who had descended to the underworld in a living body and risen to manager. A living legend of challenge and adventure.

Listening to him stirred emotions Myrmex had buried deep in his heart for so long. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠desire to change, compromised by settling for reality. If this man pushed him forward, tomorrow really could be different. He might even fall asleep happy, buzzing with unpredictable anticipation.

"...C-Can someone talentless like me join?"

When he came to, his hand was already raised. Manager Jo's eyes turned to him, and sudden regret flooded in.

But Manager Jo said:

"That's what Manager Jo told me back then. 'It's fine. He has a perfect plan, so I just have to follow and work hard...'"

"Buddy, that's the third time you've told that story."

"Myrmex here hardly ever drinks, but he's wasted today!"

"Can't blame him. When do regular folks like us get to join a huge project?"

After work, the taverns buzzed with employees chattering about Manager Jo's speech.

"I've decided! I'm applying too!"

"I... need to think about it more..."

Manager Jo's bold promise of an unprecedented venture: the "Underground's Largest Game Show". No one could imagine what it entailed, but it sparked quiet excitement. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be ordinary.

"What did I dream my afterlife would be like?"

"What did I really want to do...?"

They each recalled forgotten glimpses of vibrant life. When was the last time they'd gone to bed looking forward to tomorrow?

###

"Manager Jo! Check out these documents!"

"Whoa, so many applicants already!"

The next morning, I skipped the office and headed straight to Happy Snack House. Hedone and Crowzer, who arrived early, were groaning over stacks of resumes.

"It'll take days to read them all."

"No need. Hire everyone. And hire every future applicant too."

Total hiring. A shocking declaration.

Why? Because scaling up massively means massive fallout later. In other words, I was chaining my own arms, legs, and neck—dooming myself.

Not knowing my intent, Crowzer's eyes sparkled in admiration.

"A grand gesture! For the underworld's biggest project, we'll need hordes of manpower. Other departments will grind to a halt from the shortages!"

Pulling staff from other divisions for a mega-project? Even if it succeeded, it'd draw hate. Cornered minds turn sharp, it seems. I could hardly believe the idea came from my head.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Hedone stamped approvals furiously. She asked:

"So, Manager, what's the 'Underground's Largest Game Show' about?"

"I'm curious too."

"We'll gather applicants and hold a tournament. Let them showcase their skills, overcome trials and tribulations. Winners get a 'chance'."

"What kind?"

"The chance to reincarnate."

Reincarnation. Returning to earth in a new life, for Soul Society residents. Even unflappable Crowzer gaped.

"Reincarnation? The higher-ups really approved that?"

"Crowzer, don't you see the Safety Management Team's stamp? It's officially permitted—no worries. Can I leave the game structure and execution to you two?"

Hedone and Crowzer: Happy World's premier slackers. One a bona fide goddess of waste, the other a clown who'd lost every spark of genius. Entrusting them with a make-or-break game show? My teeth chattered with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anxiety.

"Time to show my skills! Watch me, Manager Jo! I'll hammer the name Hedone into every ear in Soul Society!"

"Trust this Crowzer! I've got ideas brewing in my head already. I'll deliver something no one's seen!"

Their confidence made my spine crawl. Like handing the One Ring to Sauron. Perfect.

"...!"

Then Echo, refilling fish cake broth, waved enthusiastically. She wanted in too. Crowzer's eyes lit up.

"This game show could be a golden opportunity for jobless nymphs lounging underground. Brother! We should hire nymphs en masse as game staff!"

Nymphs? Just thinking about it gave me a headache.

"Nymphs scampering around means heaps of hair shedding. I just pick it up. Heh heh heh heh—!"

I'm doomed. Anyway, I left staffing and execution to them and handled my task: recruiting "reincarnation hopefuls" for the show.

Easy peasy. Plenty in Soul Society must crave escape to earth.

"Reincarnation?"

I visited the Chairman's secret fishing spot. Bones Manager, in guard uniform, clattered his ribs.

"So, win the tournament, get reincarnation? Shocking the higher-ups allowed it. Afterlife folk can't go topside—that's the law."

Of course it's unauthorized illegal. But I couldn't say that.

"What do you say, Manager? Join in?"

"Tempting, but I'm content. Got my wife and daughter here. Friends like you drop by for chats. Look at that."

Swoosh. Bones pointed at the lake. A small white boat floated.

"Bought it cashing in savings and dividends. Sisyphus Electric's hitting new highs daily. Cruising with family, fishing—that's my joy now!"

Bones was devouring retirement life to the bone. Failed to recruit him, but no sweat. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Endless wannabes out there.

"Manager Jo, you didn't show at the office today—everything okay? Half our audit team skipped too."

"Na Deputy, wanna play a game?"

Chatter chatter. I explained briefly. Na burst out laughing.

"Reincarnation topside? Fun idea, but I love Soul Society now. Got Echo, great pay—why reincarnate?"

Fair enough. HQ staff and retirees aren't desperate. I headed to Happy World. Prisoners serving sentences should crave reincarnation.

"Sisyphus, how about it? Rare chance."

"Haha, tempting, but pass. Summer's leg day season. And convincing others won't be easy."

"Why?"

"Icarus is teaching graffiti to inmates—huge enrollment. Drew on my boulder too."

His boulder sported flowers and clouds—surreal. Graffiti classes for prisoners?

"It's great ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here."

"Better than earth."

Every inmate raved about their cushy lot: private cells, buffet meals, free strolls.

"My chipmunk. Cute, right?"

"My wolf spider's cuter."

—Woof woof...!

—Woof woof...!

Pet privileges for welfare. What is this, a Nordic prison? What happened after I left Happy World?

I knew why: With Tartarus rebels stirring, better not let disgruntled inmates join them. Improved conditions squelch unrest.

Damn! No recruits for the reincarnation game show.

I scratched my head irritably.

"...Wait. Isn't this perfect?"

Pouring budget and manpower into the grandest show, only for no participants? Most absurd flop ever! From my view, ideal.

So I went home carefree. But that evening—

Rumble rumble rumble—

A flood of contestant applications hit.

What the hell. Weren't they all too happy for reincarnation? Glancing at the forms:

These aren't people—they're animals. Total chaos.

A situation even I hadn't foreseen. Conclusion was swift.

"Crowzer? Contestants are all gathered. Proceed as planned."

This show's gonna tank.