006 – Superstar at the Company Dinner! #2
There are a total of two high-ranking executives working at this Happy World.
“The president is entering.”
One of them was the president of this Happy World—the man known as the god of death, Thanatos.
He cut an impressive figure with his pale skin and long purple hair.
Always clad in a black suit, he had this inherently gloomy aura that made him look every bit the grim reaper.
I'd only ever seen him from a distance a few times, but now that he was sitting right next to me, it felt like death itself had sidled up beside me. My breath caught in my throat.
“You're Assistant Manager Jo I, the outstanding employee from last year, correct? A pleasure to meet you.”
He greeted me with utmost politeness and courtesy.
His eyes were an icy blue. Chilling.
“I've heard you successfully reformed the special prisoner Sisyphus. It was quite satisfying for me. Truly impressive work.”
I recalled the myths where Thanatos had been bested by Sisyphus.
Sisyphus had locked up Thanatos, the reaper who'd come to claim him, and enjoyed a long life in the process.
From what I knew, Thanatos possessed immense physical strength—no god except Heracles could forcibly restrain him.
Yet Sisyphus, a mere human, had subdued him. That alone spoke volumes about the muscle king's power.
Sisyphus's heavy-weight gym addiction had been a destined path from the start.
On the flip side, the incident must have been a massive humiliation for Thanatos.
Which meant he harbored quite the grudge against Sisyphus—and, by extension, viewed me, the one who'd reformed him, with considerable favor.
Getting in good with a top exec like this? Any ordinary company drone would be over the moon.
But for me? Nothing but trouble.
“President, reforming Sisyphus was pure coincidence on my part.”
“Coincidence, you say? A man as wise as Odysseus, and humble to boot. I like that.”
No, really—it was just luck. At this rate, I'd get overhyped and buried in more work.
“The Executive VP is entering!”
At that moment, Manager Bones's boisterous voice rang out, and the Nightmare swept into the dinner hall.
I felt even more suffocated than when I'd shaken hands with Thanatos while he sat beside me.
Rustle, rustle.
The Nightmare Goddess Melinoë.
She glided in like a ghost, her expression unreadable, and took the seat right across from me.
Then she spoke.
“Bones, I'm not the ‘Executive VP’—I'm the ‘Vice President.’ Stick to the new titles post-business renewal.”
Her tone was elegant and precise, like a noblewoman mildly scolding a servant.
Even the boneheaded Manager Bones bowed his head with good-natured haste.
“Yes, my mistake. Old habits die hard.”
“Congratulations on your Vice President inauguration, Lady Melinoë.”
Clink! At that moment, Crates—the ace of Team 1, who'd been promoted to assistant manager alongside me—presented a beautifully wrapped golden bottle of liquor to Melinoë.
“This is made from earthly honey and underworld pomegranate. A gift from our team to you, Lady Melinoë. Nymphs love honey, don't they?”
Crates's eyes flicked toward me as he spoke, practically smirking like, Watch and learn—this is how you score points.
But an ill-fitting wrinkle creased the goddess's brow.
“Thanks, but I'm not some small, foolish nymph. I'd appreciate it if you never treated your goddess like one again.”
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant.
The lively dinner hall fell deathly silent.
“Uh... y-yes...? Ah... s-sorry. We'll be more careful....”
Talk about a mood fitting for Happy World.
I wanted out of there right then.
As that thought crossed my mind, President Thanatos of Happy World raised his glass.
“Well then, let's cheers. To the future of Happy World.”
“To the future!”
Clink clink, clink!
And so the dinner kicked off.
“Then Jo I dug into the ground and struck gold—”
“My Sisyphus energy stock just skyrocketed—”
Giggles, squeals.
The employees' efforts to liven things up elicited laughter here and there, but I was dying inside, stuck next to the execs.
One slip here, and it wasn't just “You're fired!”—it could easily be “You're punished!”
Moderation is key in all things.
Reminds me of that time as a private, eating next to the division commander.
I glanced around, relying on the sharp instincts honed by years in grad school.
“......”
“......”
Right then, Vice President Melinoë hadn't touched her drink. She was just staring at me.
Her eyes, like flames of the underworld, pierced right through me. Unblinking.
Why's she staring like that?
In Greek lore, gods could turn people into animals or crush them flat just for displeasing them.
Being stared down by one was reason enough to tense up.
She wouldn't want to pin me up as a constellation, would she?
Yeah, no way I can stay here.
So I leaned toward Manager Bones beside me and whispered.
“Manager Bones, I actually have some paperwork I need to wrap up by today. Mind if I pop back to the office real quick? Won't take long.”
Just need some air.
I tried to stand, using work as an excuse, but Bones grabbed my arm.
“Don't even think about it, Jo I. Forgot my advice? Never leave before the execs! Your performance review could tank hard!”
I know! That's exactly why I'm trying to bail!
Then our esteemed Vice President Melinoë, who'd been silent until now, spoke up.
“Assistant Manager Jo I—prioritizing overdue work even knowing it might irk the execs and hurt your review? I rate that highly. A true model employee.”
“Pardon?”
“But in Soul Society, rules apply equally to everyone. Just as Sisyphus stuck to his rest time, employees must stick to work hours.”
What the hell is she getting at?
I swallowed hard in tension.
“An outstanding employee like you worrying about backlog even at a company dinner? Unacceptable. Henceforth, after-hours work is strictly banned. No after-hours work contacts either. This is my first policy as vice president—commit it to memory.”
She wasn't even letting me step out briefly on a work excuse...?
And she was praising me for it...!?
I collapsed back into my seat.
Cheers erupted around me.
“Workaholic Jo I finally did it! Early quits guaranteed!”
“No more after-hours pings from the section chief!”
“Jo I, you're a loyalty monster. Even this Marquius acknowledges you!”
Woo woo woo!
Thud.
Amid the downpour of cheers, Lady Melinoë extended a pretty crystal glass toward me.
“Well then, Assistant Manager Jo I—thanks to me, you can ditch those pesky after-hours tasks. Care to pour me one as thanks?”
Doesn't count as after-hours work, I guess.
Glug glug glug.
I poured, the liquor flowing like the tears in my heart for the CEO's daughter.
The dinner showed no signs of ending even by 8 p.m.
Banning after-hours work? Apparently dinners didn't count as work.
And stuck next to the execs, I couldn't exactly pipe up easily—leaving me tense as a rice sack on the table.
One wrong word or move, and it might not be “fired”—could be “punished” or straight-up “Orioned.”
Which meant I couldn't help overhearing the chatter around me—including Thanatos's conversation with Melinoë.
“Surprising, though. Weren't you the one who opposed this business renewal the most? Never dreamed you'd grace Happy World in person.”
“I'm simply where I belong.”
“Princess, word among the execs is you got demoted to this backwater Happy World after losing out to Prince Zagreus. Your thoughts?”
“True enough—my brother was the one pushing hard to rename Tartarus to Happy World. Plenty of execs backed him over me.”
Zagreus.
From what I knew, he was the CEO's eldest son and the legitimate prince of Soul Society.
Of course, he wasn't that prominent in Greek myths—they focused on surface gods and heroes, so underworld tales weren't well-known.
I'd only heard the name.
But right then, Hell's Prince Zagreus became my mortal enemy.
The culprit who'd rechristened Tartarus as Happy World, confusing a job-hunting slob like me! The source of all these torturous reforms!
“And you, Thanatos—you backed my brother at the exec meeting too, didn't you? Figured you'd oppose a silly name like Happy World. Did he buy you off?”
“Princess, I like fun things. Nothing funner than drastic change.”
Want to plug my ears. These convos I shouldn't overhear were messing with my head.
The deeper I got into gods' business, the slimmer my chances of escaping the underworld.
Melinoë swirled her liquor-filled glass.
“Fun, huh. So that's why you're investing ‘time’ in Happy World management. Heard you're setting up a spot for Cronus. Just a rumor?”
“No rumor. His ‘sand clocks’ massively boost efficiency. We learned that thanks to Assistant Manager Jo I. So we're requesting collaboration.”
“But Cronus is a stubborn, grumpy old god. No way he'd cooperate easily. Could turn into a poisoned chalice.”
“Time will sort it out, gradually.”
Time solving the Cronus problem?
Was that a joke?
Thanatos added,
“How was my joke? Cronus is the god of time, so time fixing a time god's issues—that's the punchline.”
“Pfft-haha! Time'll fix it!”
“President! Too funny!”
“This joke kills—with death!”
“Another? What happens when an almond dies? Die almond. Die + almond—”
“Kehihi!”
“Angkkirukk!”
“President, your sense of humor is unmatched!”
…….
The hall exploded in laughter like someone had rung the laugh bell. Cold sweat trickled down my back.
What kind of Happy World is this? Black humor central.
But in that instant, a spark of insight flashed in my mind.
“Forgive my intrusion into exec talk, but about the special managee Cronus.”
“Oh? A mere mortal employee speaking without permission. But since it's you, Assistant Manager Jo I, I'm curious what you have to say.”
“...Jo I?”
Death and nightmare eyes turned to me.
Not just them—the scattered chatter died, leaving the room silent as a dead almond.
“Securing Cronus's cooperation—”
My legs shook like a private butting into generals' talk, but I pressed on.
“—leave it to me.”
“J-Jo I! No! Even execs struggle with that! If it goes wrong, you could be out of Happy World!”
Bones clattered and jumped in protest.
But a confident smile crept across my face.
“Sure. If I fail, I'll strip down and take the hit.”
“...What? Strip?”
Melinoë's elegant brows twitched for some reason.
I declared like a bold hero.
“Assistant Manager Jo I here. If I can't secure successful collaboration with Lord Cronus, I'll gladly take full responsibility!”
Roll—! The die was cast!
A rigged die with only one face: 1!