007 – The God of Opportunity is Bald
10 p.m. The banquet hall had emptied out as the employees trickled away, leaving it quiet at last. Skeleton Manager Bones bowed his head so low his forehead nearly scraped the floor.
"Chairman! A subordinate's mistake is the superior's fault! I'll take responsibility for this collaboration with Cronus, so please reconsider your decision! I beg you!"
The ancient titan Cronus. He'd overthrown his own father for power, then devoured his children to keep it—only to be cast out himself. Stubborn as a mule, a lone wolf through and through.
Yet Jo Iseo had boldly declared in front of the executives that he'd persuade Cronus—or strip naked if he failed. It was clear: Jo Iseo's fast track as an outstanding employee ended here.
"Manager Bones, you seem to hold Assistant Manager Jo Iseo in high regard. You, who was feared as the 'Cold Heart' in Internal Affairs, offering to take the blame yourself."
"That's because he's that exceptional an employee. Young and full of hot blood, nothing like an old, outdated sack of bones like me."
"I see. But does the fact that he's outstanding mean we can trust him without question?"
Breaking Thanatos's stubbornness looked impossible. Death brooked no compromise with anything.
What about the newly appointed vice president, then?
'Jo Iseo was the first hire under Prince Zagreus's business renewal policy, which broadened our talent pool. His failure would mean the prince's policy failed.'
And Prince Zagreus's failure was Princess Melinoë's gain. She had no reason—or motive—to help an employee like Jo Iseo. She might even want him to fail.
That was when persuasion attempts toward Melinoë had to be abandoned.
"I agree—this Cronus matter is far too big for a mere employee. If you're set on convincing him, it should be at least an executive... or the CEO stepping in personally."
After the banquet ended, Princess Melinoë—who'd been silent for ages—finally spoke. Bones gaped with his bony mouth at the unexpected opinion, and even Thanatos's blue eyes gleamed in surprise.
"Weren't you hoping for Jo Iseo's failure, Princess? He's the prime example of Executive Director Zagreus's renewal hires."
"Why would I want my employees to fail? Having talented staff is something any executive should celebrate. What's the problem?"
"Ho, quite the by-the-book stance. As expected of the CEO's daughter."
"Has nothing to do with Father."
Death's blue gaze crossed with Nightmare's red—
The cold god of death, Thanatos, cracked a smile first.
"If that's the princess's will, I'll step back as well. I wouldn't want to see another amusing fellow like Jo Iseo break here, either. Then I'll take my leave."
Creak—
Thanatos opened the banquet hall door and stepped out. Crates from Penalty Execution Team 1 approached as if waiting, bowing his head.
"Shall I escort you to your residence? Or to headquarters for tomorrow's executive meeting?"
"Crates, I have an errand for you. Go tell Assistant Manager Jo Iseo right away that the Cronus agenda is scrapped. We'll overlook his drunken blunder—"
"Pardon? Scrapped?"
Team 1's ace, Crates, was stunned. Jo Iseo, who'd clearly scored an own goal, had somehow survived the gates of the underworld.
'You bastard, Jo Iseo! How is this guy so damn lucky?!'
Crates inwardly seethed—he'd hoped for Jo Iseo's downfall—but he couldn't show it before a great executive. He simply backed away.
Thus, President Thanatos returned to his residence. To attend tomorrow's executive meeting, he'd need to head to headquarters early. As he lay in bed seeking sleep, someone knocked. Tap-tap.
—President, it's Crates.
"What is it?"
—Well, um, that Jo Iseo guy... insists he's not drunk at all?
###
In Greek myth, there's a god famous for being bald: Kairos, the god of opportunity. He has hair only on his forehead—no sides, back, or top. You can only grab his locks when he's facing you. Hence the proverb: "Opportunity has hair in front." It means seize the moment, like the Korean saying "Pull the iron horns while it's hot."
Opportunity is all about timing. And right now, that wind was blowing my way.
"Assistant Manager Jo Iseo! Rejecting the president's offer—what were you thinking? Do you really think you can persuade that cranky old titan Cronus? Assistant Manager Jo Iseo!"
The next day after the banquet. Manager Bones raged, his skeletal face furious. The other employees were shocked too.
"Even if his bold claim to the execs was the booze talking..."
"He turned down them calling it off?"
"No, it means he's that confident for real."
"Jo Iseo! How serious are you about brown-nosing?!"
Me, serious? Of course. Dead serious about failing.
Think logically. No ordinary guy like me could sway a monster who'd ditch family for power.
Still, I'd definitely lost favor with President Thanatos. I'd kicked away his lifeline.
Yet I wasn't getting a "How dare you refuse an executive's grace—punishment!" because of my unintentional outstanding employee creds piling up.
'I'd love to slack off openly, but... who knows how far President Thanatos's patience goes. Better pretend to work a bit.'
Showing obvious slacking now would incense the execs—not to firing, but punishment. So, fake moderate effort it is.
Mulling that, I slipped out of the noisy Bones's lecture.
And where was I headed?
"Assistant Manager Jo Iseo, off to meet Cronus, right?"
The nightmare approached as I aimed for Cronus. Worst timing—the one person I least wanted to see.
She wore a white dress like a Greek toga, red laurel crown on her head: utterly terrifying yet lethally beautiful, Happy World's princess.
"Assistant Manager Jo Iseo, you're probably the first since creation to refuse Thanatos's rare kindness. Must mean you're that confident about persuading Cronus?"
What was she getting at? My dry mouth swallowed spit needlessly as she added,
"But Cronus's security level is apocalyptic. Even here in Happy World, he's sealed deepest underground—executives like us can't approach freely."
True enough. Happy World's prisoners were graded by danger. Take Sisyphus's code 'R-08A'—the A meant A-rank containment risk.
Cronus's was T-01Ω. T for punishment type, Ω for apocalyptic containment. End-of-world boss if freed.
Strictly guarded, no casual access.
This moment, I felt opportunity's forelock.
"I was confident I could convince Cronus and seal the deal. But with my lowly birth, even meeting him's impossible. Guess getting fired's my fate! So frustrating!"
I clenched my fist, glared with feigned regret. The lament of a guy who'd truly believed—but forced to fail.
Watching me, Princess Melinoë added,
"To think you'd regret it that much. Grasping outstanding employee status and promotion to assistant manager in two years as a mortal? Must be that ambition."
"No, it was pure luck—"
"Ahem. Be glad. A mature, perfect goddess like me will grant you Blessing. You'll gain access to the apocalyptic prison."
"Pardon? Blessing?"
"Payment for finding my wallet and keeping it secret. Thanks to you hiding my tardiness excuse, I avoided embarrassment."
Princess Melinoë kissed her palm—smack—then blew. A red lipstick butterfly fluttered toward me.
Whatever it was, no way I wanted it. I whipped my head away, but it was too fast!
Stick!
It clung to my forehead.
"The goddess of ghosts and nightmares, Melinoë, grants Assistant Manager Jo Iseo executive-qualified Blessing. Valid until you meet Cronus and return—"
Sizzle—
"Ah?"
"First time granting a blessing, so I'm not 100% sure... but no side effects, probably. Ahem."
My forehead burned like fire, mind reeling. When I came to, I stood alone before the prison.
It felt like a midday dream.
Sizzle-sizzle—
But the glaring red lipstick mark on my reflection in the building's glass was no dream—branded clear.
Rub-rub-rub—
'Won't come off. Don't tell me it stays till after Cronus?'
Like advertising a kiss from hell's princess. For a guy whose night with her was ambiguous, this was punishment enough.
'Nightmare goddess Melinoë. Tormenting with just a kiss—truly terrifying as her name suggests!'
###
By the way, Cronus's solitary cell was in Happy World's deepest underground—pitch black, fog-shrouded, eerie. No hell cockroaches was a plus.
Rooooar—
Cyclops-forged iron gates stretched to an invisible ceiling, majestic. A signpost stabbed the ground before it:
Prisoner – Cronus
Grade – Ω
Punishment – Time Wasting
"Assistant Manager Jo Iseo, Penalty Execution Team 4. Entering."
The skeletal guards at the entrance eyed my forehead kiss-mark. Their silent gazes glowed red—embarrassing for some reason.
Creak—the tiny visitor door beside the massive seal opened.
Inside: an all-white room. In the center, a cross-legged old god spotted me and yelled.
"You're the negotiator? Locking me in this boring cell, now they want collaboration? Hilarious! Kids these days have no business ethics. Back in my day—"
Shiny bald head, wrinkle-packed face. Cronus was peak cranky grandpa.
Perfect—he wouldn't cooperate easily. Mission fail! Olympus transfer success!
"But I'll collaborate."
...What!?
"...Why... why, ancient ruler? This is major business—you need a proper reason! Persuade me with something convincing! Please!"
"Heh, kid. Isn't this flipping the negotiator's role? You already know the answer."
"Me?"
"Yes! Pushing this far, how can I refuse? For a modern punk, you've got potential."
What the hell are you saying!
Aaagh! I screamed inwardly.
Then the supposedly fearsome Cronus explained.
"What? A mortal boldly descending to this abyss that terrifies even executives. Must mean you desperately need my help. How could I ignore that sincerity?"
Abyss of evil spirits? I'd seen only fog coming here.
Melinoë's ghost-nightmare blessing? The guards were technically under her, as goddess of ghosts.
Nothing else fit.
"Ahh..."
...Ahh, this is a dream. A nasty one.