080 – The Social Life of a Perpetual Failure #1
The Monster Pen was nestled deep in a valley of Happy World. Tucked between towering cliffs, it had always been dim and shadowy, barely seeing any sunlight. But lately, the stably shining sun from Heavenly Body ver.2 had penetrated even the deepest corners of the valley.
Thanks to that, the monsters living in the Monster Pen seemed in high spirits, letting out low grrrrs.
“It’s the Nemean Lion!”
“Lion! Lion!”
The sunlight had mellowed the beasts’ temperaments even further, much to the visitors’ delight. Just yesterday, the Hydra escape incident had everyone thinking a string of disciplinary actions was coming down the pipeline—but the crushing workload had swept it all under the rug without so much as a formal reprimand.
“You fed Cage 1 yet?”
“Didn’t Blockhead say he’d handle it earlier?”
“Gah! Sorry! I’ll finish this and get right to it!”
The man called Blockhead was named Paris.
“Damn. Stinks and filthy. Must be the size—shits like a mountain.”
Back in his living days, he’d herded sheep. Without that experience taming beasts, he wouldn’t have lasted a single day in this Monster Pen. But the real challenge for the staff wasn’t the monsters.
“You idiot. Still haven’t cleaned the pens? That’s why you’ve been stuck as a junior keeper for years! Just do what you’re told! Just do what you’re told!”
Today, too, Deputy Warden Augeias waddled over, his greasy gut jiggling as he berated Paris.
“You brainless fool! You know what happens if a demoted HQ reject like you gets demoted again here? You’ll be worth less than the shit rolling around out there!”
Augeias was the king of verbal abuse and personal insults. Paris shrank under the barrage. Nothing crushed a man’s spirit at work quite like abuse beyond mere scolding.
At least he’s relatively tame today.
Augeias’s tirade was bearable for once. As Paris wondered why, the deputy ramped it up again.
“Heyyy! Clean up that muck now! Auditors from HQ are coming! It’s your screw-ups with the animals that brought this on us! If they find anything, we’re all done for!”
Word was, an auditor was coming due to yesterday’s Hydra escape. With the Safety Audit Team’s reputation for nitpicking, Augeias had every reason to sweat as deputy.
But Augeias was a Monster Pen veteran. He hadn’t won his position in a lottery—he knew how to play smart.
Whoever they send to audit a stinking animal pen will be the lowest rung on the Safety Team ladder. No clout, no threat. We push back hard on those types, and they’ll crumble. If that fails, a little bribe seals it.
The Monster Pen was an HQ subsidiary—a dumping ground for the demoted. Auditing it was a chore no one wanted, so it’d be some expendable errand boy.
Dead weight, basically. Like Blockhead Paris. Those guys fold under pressure.
But that afternoon, an utterly unexpected visitor arrived in the gloomy Monster Pen valley.
“I’m Deputy Chief Jo Iseo from Safety Audit Team 1.”
Everyone froze. The famous figure from news, SNS, and rumors had shown up in this filthy pit?
“Paris! You stay the hell out of sight today! Don’t you dare cause trouble!”
Augeias tore into his most useless dead weight, Paris.
Paris, who ignored worldly news, had no clue who this “Jo Deputy Chief” was. But seeing the deputy—who was rude to everyone—sweating bullets told him enough.
“It’s the Devil Jo.”
“He’s here in person!”
“The end of Monster Pen is nigh…”
Even the keepers fearless around mega-beasts like the Hydra or Nemean Lion cowered like mice before a predator. That’s when Paris grasped the magnitude of Jo’s infamous reputation.
Someone that big, coming to this dank, smelly hellhole himself?
Smells like animals.
That was my first impression stepping into the Monster Pen. No surprise—mythical beasts from legends crammed in here, of course it reeks.
So what exactly am I supposed to do here?
At Moros’s suggestion, I’d clocked in at Soul Society’s zoo. But my exact role? Total mystery.
Just sit tight, and I’m golden.
Do nothing, fail Moros’s expectations, tank my review, get demoted! Fired! A flawless strategy, if I do say so.
“Deputy Chief, shall I escort you to my office? I’ll start with our budget reports and ledgers.”
But someone sidled up, all saccharine smiles that tickled my ears with fake politeness. Dressed like the keepers in work clothes, but that protruding gut screamed rank.
“...And you are?”
“I’m the deputy warden here, Augeias.”
“Augei-what?”
“Just call me Gai for short.”
Gai? Pass. Augeias? Even worse.
“Mr. Augeias, I don’t need the budget ledgers. A quick look around tells me everything’s running smoothly.”
Lie. No ledger’s ever perfect. Humans err. Skipping them altogether helps tank my rep if issues pop up.
“Instead, let’s check out the animals.”
I opted for sightseeing. When’s the next time I’d tour a zoo packed with mythical monsters? Worth a peek.
“Shall I guide you personally?”
Augeias glued himself to my side. But I didn’t like him.
Obvious at a glance. Competent guy.
This place’s workload looked brutal. Keepers’ faces mirrored grad students pulling all-nighters in the lab—hollow-eyed, just like mine post-master’s. Relatable.
Augeias, though? Smug, pot-bellied, oozing false charm. Shrewd operator.
Stick near him, and he’d feed me useful intel or perks. Then I’d rack up unwanted merits again!
Keep the competent at arm’s length. Embrace the dead weight. My Jo Iseo motto.
Luckily, hanging with Crowzer and Deputy Narcissus had honed my eye for trash-tier talent.
First off: faces. If they look perpetually wronged, begging for a smack—
Bingo.
I zeroed in on a guy sweeping far off. Curly blond, dopey and aggrieved, broom squeaking awkwardly. Perfect.
“I’m Deputy Chief Jo Iseo from Safety Audit. Mind showing me around?”
“Uh, uh-uhh…”
Mud-and-shit-caked, he panicked. Then Augeias came huffing up.
“No way! This guy’s been here forever and still can’t make senior keeper—he’s an idiot! I should—”
“Nah. He’s my guide. Unless there’s a reason you have to be the one? Some rule against me touring with him?”
Zzap. I glared at the pushy competent Augeias. Back off, shoo shoo!
“No such rule, of course. Just remember I had your best interests at heart…”
Augeias bowed, sour-faced.
“Th-that one over there is, as you probably know, our star beast, the Nemean Lion. Famous as Hercules’ toughest foe.”
—Yaong.
The lion mewled softly. The auditor, true to his rep for ice-cold ruthlessness, asked:
“Why’s the lion meowing?”
“W-well… it’s a feline too… right…?”
Blockhead, dead weight, idiot, moron Paris never dreamed he’d be guiding the terrifying auditor. He was flustered, blurting nonsense.
“Ugh, that moron.”
“The Nemean Lion meows because it’s a cat? What kinda logic—!?”
The senior keepers watching facepalmed. But they were also impressed.
Paris is still the same clumsy oaf.
His tour was a disaster—routes all wrong, explanations inaccurate and cringey.
Yet—
“Whoa, Chimera’s really got a goat head, lion body, snake tail. Feed it carnivore chow? Or herbivore?”
Unlike his scary, merciless rumors, Deputy Chief Jo toured like an innocent kid, genuinely enjoying it. Less auditor, more weekend tourist savoring the moment.
Devil Jo’s not that frightening after all?
Natural reaction for Paris and the keepers. Maybe the backlash from HQ auditors’ dread rep plus Devil Jo myths made him seem extra chill.
Squelch.
“Ah, this under my shoe—mud, right? Please say it is.”
Human errors galore. The keepers dropped their guards, warming up like old pals—grateful, touched even.
“Deputy Chief! Wash your shoes over there!”
“I’ll show you!”
“Pfihihihi, always watch your step around here!”
To the female keepers especially, Jo seemed a pure godling stepping into the human world for the first time. (He could pass for a ditch nymph or brook deity.)
But one man couldn’t laugh at the scene: Deputy Augeias.
An auditor skips the ledgers? He sniffed out the fudged books without a glance! And straight to the cages—
HQ elite inspecting pens might uncover that. Worse, even his own staff was smitten with Jo. Female employees giggled at his every sip of water.
“Deputy Chief, you’re hilarious!”
“Like animals? What about animal-like girls?”
Augeias decided to play it safe and observe. But moron Paris blew it.
“D-Deputy Chief Jo… Wanna see a special ‘beast’ we haven’t shown anyone? Something we’re prepping here…”
Gasp! No! He can’t learn about that—!
Augeias lunged to stop it, but spilled milk couldn’t be recaptured.
“Special beast? Sounds fun. Lead the way.”