093 – The Marginalized People #3
“Good morning!”
I was in a great mood today, for once. The kind of mood that made me want to show up early instead of deliberately clocking in late.
Why? Well...
“Chairman Odysseus, have the new hires made it in?”
Today was the day our fresh recruits started at Pandora Market. What could be more crucial than a debut? Screw up your first impression, and it takes forever to live it down.
“They’re here, but... frankly, I’ve got serious reservations. Hiring a cyclops for Strategic Planning Officer? You...”
“I think I know what you’re worried about, Chairman.”
“No, you don’t! That’s why you went ahead with this insane hire! A cyclops! A man-eating monster! Do you have any idea I drifted at sea for ten years because of one?”
Odysseus was the master tactician who’d outwitted the ten-year Trojan War with the Trojan Horse. And on his way home after ending it all, he ran into disaster.
A cyclops named Polyphemus, to be exact. This one-eyed giant’s most infamous trait? Being the son of the sea king Poseidon. A total brute. Temperament? The kind that eats people alive without a second thought.
“The nightmare of gouging out Polyphemus’s eye and escaping his clutches is still fresh in my mind. He begged his father Poseidon, and I spent ten years adrift at sea because of it!”
“Famous story. I know it well.”
“And you still hired a cyclops for Strategic Planning? They’re barbarians from some far-off land, no better than savages. They don’t even think!”
He had a point. I knew that. That’s why I hired one.
But if I said that, Chairman Odysseus might use his authority to fire them on the spot. Time for some quick improvisation.
“Not all cyclopes are like that. The great king of gods, Zeus—his thunderbolts were forged by cyclopes. Hades’s invisible helm, Quinea? Cyclopes. Poseidon’s trident? Cyclopes again.”
“I know. But that was back in the god-realm eras. Time dulled their wits until they devolved into man-eating beasts.”
“But there’s a chance our newbie Sai could be a wise cyclops like his ancestors. Especially since he’s caring for a sick mother...”
My throat suddenly tightened. It hit me that I’d taken this job to pay for my master’s tuition after my mom collapsed from overwork supporting me.
Mom... I missed her. Wanted to head topside right now. And suddenly, Sai’s situation hit home.
If Sai screws up and gets fired, he’ll struggle to find decent work again.
I’d hired them for my own agenda, sure, but they had responsibilities now. They weren’t tools—they were living people with dignity.
So where were the newbies? I stepped into the hall and spotted a one-eyed giant clutching a broom, sweeping the floor.
He towered a head above me, but the sight of this hulking figure cleaning was oddly convincing. I hesitated to approach.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
Up close, his work was meticulously thorough—not just the floor, but window frames and door cracks too. Impressive... and a little unsettling.
“Sai, you can leave the grunt work like cleaning to General Affairs nymph Makenoi. Come on in. We’ve got contracts to sign and a ton to do today.”
“This company. Where I’ll work. Cleaning. Is basic. Must have ownership mentality.”
“It’s fine. Really.”
I led Sai into the office, slid over the contract. His single eye widened like a pumpkin.
“This amount. Real?”
“What, too low?”
“Too. High. Happy World. Deputy level salary or more. Never dreamed of this much money.”
With our boosted budget, I’d jacked up pay across the board. Part of my master plan: if high-paid staff underperform, doubts would swirl around my strategies and hiring.
And... it’ll be fair compensation for these folks I hired on a whim.
I handed documents to Helen, Makenoi, and the Hell Puppy too. Helen read the text over and over, then teared up, overcome with emotion.
Makenoi trembled with joy.
“This Makenoi has never been promised so much money...! Truly the honorary nymph Joinoi...! Savior of domestic nymph farms...!”
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Dance-dance, trot-trot.
Dance-dance, trot-trot.
Makenoi launched into a wildly noisy nymph dance. I’d made the call, but this squad was worrisome in every way. My head spun, so I bailed.
“Alright, I’ve got stuff to do today. Get to work, everyone.”
# # #
Odysseus rarely acknowledged anyone, but Jo the vice chairman’s recent feats and bold decisions had him impressed.
Jo... that man. In a world where the god-realm hadn’t ended, he’d stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the greatest heroes.
Some mocked Jo for slipping after his HQ demotion. Fools who didn’t get it.
One step back for a hundred forward. Jo folded even this demotion into his master plan for success and merit. Just like me.
Nothing proved your worth like tackling the forsaken wastelands everyone avoided.
That must’ve been Jo’s thinking. Rise from the ashes in this dump, show off his skills. Nothing beats a performance.
But...
Flip, flip—rustle.
Odysseus frowned at the cyclops diligently flipping documents. No one knew their brutish savagery better than he did.
“This document. Yours, Chairman?”
Flip.
Cyclops Sai handed over a page. Odysseus’s shoulder bones rattled.
“Yeah, one of my plans from twenty years of scheming. What? Problem?”
“None. Perfect, even.”
“Hoh, perfect?”
“But one issue. South Gate artisan district revival needs. Lots of foot traffic. Essential. West and North Gates. Accessible.”
!
Odysseus was stunned. Sai had read the South Gate plan and already grasped the execution?
“But Jo. Amazing man. Put exec shops in West Gate, drew crowds. North Gate has ghost stone hunters. This plan. Now feasible. But. One problem.”
“A problem? What?”
“South Gate core. Artisans making luxury goods. Current South Gate artisans. Idling. Artisans stubborn. Once they drop brush and hammer. Hard to pick up again.”
Odysseus found himself listening intently. This giant felt intellectual, unlike the rest—spoke coherently too.
“Sai, right? I know the issue: South Gate artisans lounging with no drive. I tried compromising, but no dice.”
Pandora Market’s South Gate teemed with master craftsmen taking commissions. If they worked again, revival was a cinch.
But since the market tanked, they’d lazed around, bellies up in strike mode. Even negotiation whiz Odysseus got the cold shoulder.
“But Jo. Extremely capable. Already gave us the key. Helen. She’s tight with artisans. South Gate native. Natural.”
“Helen? Really?”
Odysseus eyed the redheaded bob-cut woman. Deaf and mute, but bright personality.
“Duai!”
“Says leave artisan persuasion to her. She applied thinking of them. Didn’t expect to get hired.”
“Hah!”
Odysseus had doubted Jo’s hiring eye, though not out of disdain. Everyone had weaknesses.
Even Achilles had that heel. Made him human. Thought Jo’s sole flaw was spotting talent.
Did Happy World’s audit demon have no weaknesses? Odysseus grew wary of his new subordinate.
“Then? What’s the meaning behind hiring this Hell Puppy as staff? What was Jo thinking?”
━Kyang kyang...!
The Hell Puppy was a wild fox native to Soul Society. Hiring a beast that couldn’t even do basic math? Odysseus couldn’t fathom it.
Maybe this unusually wise cyclops knew? Odysseus leaned in.
For him—ten years tormented by cyclopes, hating them like foes—this was a huge shift.
But Sai shook his head.
“Honestly. Hell Puppy stumps me too. But surely deep meaning. Jo knows time’s value. Never does meaningless things!”
Sai gripped the fat contract tightly. Mocked for his degree, Jo had valued him highly. Time to repay that vision.
“Then today, Helen and I head to South Gate artisans. Time is gold. No time to waste!”