"This life... is just... pathetic."
Jin Kamada sighed for the umpteenth time as he hammered away at the keys on his keyboard. For a moment, he paused, staring at his monitor screen for a typo he detected. Then he shrugged and carried on with his clacking.
Despite his best efforts not to look, his eyes darted once again to the digital clock on his table. The screen flickered oddly for a second, like a weird glitch. But one smack on the top brought it back to life.
16:17, it read.
"You're born one day, spend your entire life working to pay bills, and then you die... How pitiful."
He smacked his lips, the taste of coffee from his lunch break lingering in his mouth. He hated coffee, but it seemed to be the only thing that kept him working, so he drank it anyway.
"But you still gotta be grateful man," a shrill male voice replied from the next cubicle to Jin's. "At least you got a job. There's someone out there who's wishing to be you right now."
"That... is a terrible wish."
Jin paused his typing, leaning back on his chair with his eyes to the ceiling. Then, rubbing his palms over his smooth, dark hair, he let out another short sigh.
"I wouldn't wish to be me."
The voice in the next cubicle didn't reply, and the office fell quiet again, except for the hum of the air conditioners and the buzz of a dozen photocopiers.
Sounds he had long grown to hate.
This was not the life Jin wanted to live.
He had always imagined that after graduating from college, he'd easily get a cushy job, live in a mansion, and spend the rest of his life in peace, just like every other normal human.
Instead, he ended up at a 9-5, clacking each day at a keyboard.
"This life... is boring."
The main door to the hall swung open with a dull bang. Jin quickly sat up, adjusting his tie as he returned himself to his former posture.
"Mr. Kamada?" A hoarse voice echoed across the hall.
Rising slightly from his seat, Jin lifted his head above the cubicle walls just enough to see his boss's harsh, sparsely bearded face.
"My office. Now."
A slight wrinkle appeared on Jin's forehead. The only thing that annoyed him more than the taste of coffee and the buzz of the photocopier, was being called to the boss's office. The boss rarely called anyone, and when he did, you already knew it wasn't going to be good.
He pushed himself out of his chair, stretched his back until he heard a satisfactory crack, then dragged his feet across the hall to the boss's office.
"Have a seat, Mr. Kamada," the bald, square-chinned, middle-aged boss gestured to a seat as soon as Jin stepped into the room.
"Good evening, Mr. Nagazumi," Jin greeted, leaning into the leather chair. "My daily report is almost done."
"Good." The boss shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. "But I called you here for something else."
He reached under his desk, pulling out a brown envelope and handing it to Jin.
"What's this?" Jin asked, staring at the brown envelope stamped with the company logo.
A promotion, maybe...
"Mr. Kamada. I'm afraid we have to let you go."
Jin blinked. Twice. Trying to make sense of the words reverberating in his mind.
"You're... firing me?"
Mr. Nagazumi shrugged, reaching for a file on his desk. He flipped it open, then pulled out a piece of paper within.
"Our database shows that your production quality dropped 70% in the last three months."
"That doesn't sound right," said Jin. "I do almost all the work around here."
The boss ignored him, pulling out another document.
"HR also says that for the last two months, you have spent forty-five minutes on lunch breaks, instead of the usual twenty-five."
Jin swallowed, forcing down the guilt that briefly clenched his throat.
The food in the work cafeteria was horrible to his tongue, and he preferred to walk over to a small diner nearby to get a meal for himself. But he had no idea his lunch time was being monitored by the company.
Damn HR.
"With this data," Mr. Nagazumi continued, his tone unwavering, "I've come to a decision that you're no longer fit for our company. We have to let you go."
The words came pounding into Jin's ears, but for some reason, he couldn't decide if he wanted to smile or put on a frown.
He slid a finger over his pocket. In it were three crumpled overdue bills and last month's electricity receipt. The paycheck from this job barely covered rent, not to mention groceries. But it was the only thing that kept his landlord from knocking.
Trying to survive in this city was hard enough, but getting fired from this job, was only going to make it ten times harder.
"You cannot do this to me," he replied, trying to conceal his anger, but his voice rose higher than anticipated.
"Unfortunately, it's in my power to. And I already have."
Power? What did this pathetic man know about power?
"I need this job," Jin's voice grew firm. "I have bills to pay."
"As much as I'd like to help you, I'm afraid we have a quota to keep." Mr. Nagazumi leaned forward, his elbows resting on his desk. "Look... You're very young. It may seem like the end of the world, but I'm sure there's another company out there seeking... young talent."
The hum of the air conditioner grew audible as Jin fell into his thoughts, his heart thumping in his chest.
Of all the thoughts in his mind, one bothered him the most.
How was he going to pay his rent now?
The office fell quiet for a moment, then Mr. Nagazumi shook his head again.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kamada. I wish you the best of luck."
At that point, Jin knew it was over.
"Fine," he exhaled, rising to his feet. "I always hated this job anyway."
Without another word, he marched out of the office, slamming the door so hard the glass rattled behind him. Then, he moved to his cubicle, tossing his personal items into his backpack without mercy.
"Hey... where are you going?" The shrill-voiced man in the next cubicle asked.
"Home."
Seconds later, he marched down the hall and zoomed out of the building.
As he emerged into the low sunlight, right into the busy street, he let out a short sigh.
"What a life," he muttered to himself.
He inhaled deeply, reminiscing about the smell of the pork chops he'd prepared the previous day. All he wanted to do was get home, eat and drink until he was full, and play games until he forgot about this stupid ordeal.
Backpack on his back, he adjusted his shirt and began marching down the street, turning left to a quiet alleyway; a shortcut which led to his preferred bus stop.
He'd barely made it out of the alley when a loud boom cracked across the sky. He froze for a second, then glanced up to find the source of the noise.
A bright burst of white light shot straight down from the clouds, slamming into the ground twenty feet behind him.
He stepped back, trying to avoid the heat that threatened to burn the hairs on his forearm. The smell of burnt tarmac wafted into his nose, and he scoffed to force it out.
The aura was so bright, he squinted his eyes a bit to see through. But soon after, the light faded, revealing a burned circle insignia on the ground, its edges glowing like red ember.
Right in the middle of the circle, was a young lady with long straight white hair, dressed in a shiny silver breastplate and a white doll mask covering her face. A long white robe flowed beneath her armour, and in her right hand, was a sharp silver sword which glinted in the dim alley.
"Found you," she said, her voice low and sinister.
Jin raised his right brow, perplexed by the creature in front of him. But before he could speak, she lifted her sword, pointing its sharp edge straight at him.
"Prepare to die."