I brought up the topic of an employment contract, but this is a pre-civilized society that doesn't even have a constitution, let alone labor laws.
So, I just wrote down what I thought was most reasonable and showed it to him.
Of course, I wrote it out in long-form so that this guy—who hasn't even accepted the solar calendar and thinks morning is when the sun rises and night is when it sets without a 24-hour clock—could understand. But to summarize, it's this:
A five-day workweek, six hours of daily labor, no overtime or night shifts, and no contact on weekends.
Since the workplace is Hell (literally), any necessary supplies or manpower will be provided upon request.
For the record, I'm willing to bring down items from the surface world if requested.
The Soul Society would probably flip out, but hey, if I set up a Hellgate that can be opened and closed, it'll be less chaotic.
And like all contracts, there was one worst-case condition written at the very bottom.
Unpaid. The condition was that there would be no salary.
Ah, don't get me wrong. It's not like I have the mind of some crazy black company CEO out to suck people's marrow dry.
"Even if I wanted to pay, I've got nothing to give."
Oh, wait, I have potatoes. The kind you give with a clenched fist—a knuckle sandwich.
Aside from that... maybe some saplings that spew lethal poison once they grow, some magma, and some obsidian?
Every single one of them is utterly useless in Hell. In the first place, the entire lineup is nothing but a bunch of white elephants.
"In exchange, I'll promise you this. One day, when that boy's Spiritual Pressure has diminished enough for reincarnation to be possible, I'll make sure to send him to either the Human Realm or the Heavenly Realm. He can choose whichever one he prefers."
"Those words alone are more than enough."
Perhaps because he hadn't lived a long life for nothing, Shiryu understood the terms of the contract quickly and nodded. However, as if the part about working without any pay even in Hell weighed on him, he couldn't take his eyes off the final clause.
"Don't worry too much, though. From the moment I return to Hell, I'm going to start something big."
"Hearing that you are starting something 'big,' Master, already makes me feel lightheaded. May I ask what it is?"
"I'm going to split Hell into twenty-eight pieces."
Perhaps the scale was larger than he anticipated, as Shiryu could only blink blankly, unable to utter a word.
No, to hear that someone is going to tear a world apart and only react like that... he's showing quite a lot of restraint.
Shiryu, silent for a while, let out a low groan and toyed with his empty teacup. Waiting a moment to see what he would say, he finally opened his mouth with a bitter smile.
"If Master says so, I have no choice but to believe. What do you plan to create by splitting Hell like that?"
"First, I'll establish the Ten Kings—the Shi-wang—and have each of them take charge of one area, covering ten hells in total. The remaining sixteen will be divided into the Eight Hot Hells and the Eight Cold Hells."
The twenty-six hells of the Ten Kings, the Eight Hot Hells, and the Eight Cold Hells that I remembered. On top of that, I'll create two additional sectors.
One for me to reside in. And the other for when innocent souls end up trapped in Hell with no way out—a place for them to stay.
"I plan to name these two the Nether King Palace and the Pure Spirit Hall."
"Oh, those are magnificent names."
Shiryu nodded with a smile.
Actually, even though I came up with the names, I personally thought they were incredibly cringey and stupid.
But what could I do? That was all I could think of.
The Soul King Palace. The Zero Division Hall. In truth, I just took those names and swapped out the kanji slightly.
If that guy had been with Tsunayashiro, there's no way he wouldn't know that. He probably reacted that way despite knowing.
'This really feels like fishing for compliments.'
Still, I had no intention of being a jerk and saying, "Actually, they're stupid," in front of someone who went out of his way to say they were cool. That would just be bullying Shiryu, and there's no benefit in tormenting a future subordinate who's going to be working hard for me, right?
"For your information, you, Myoren, and Rasatsu are all candidates for the Ten Kings."
"...Excuse me?"
"You didn't mishear. You're a candidate for the Ten Kings. Well, I say 'candidate,' but I'm really just debating which of the ten hells to send you to. Once that's decided, you're taking the seat."
To be clear, while I call it a 'King,' it's a position with a totally shattered work-life balance where you sit all day judging sinners without any rest.
I mean, people don't exactly say, 'Ah, it's the weekend, I should take a break and die on a weekday instead,' do they?
Shiryu seemed to realize this as well, waving his hands in a flustered panic.
"How could a sinner like me sit in such an important position...?"
"You can. If you think of yourself as a sinner, then consider it as working yourself to the bone to achieve atonement."
Of course, having to work 24 hours a day without sleep would only be for the first few hundred years. Once we gather enough people to work and the system is established, the Ten Kings will get some breathing room.
As I spoke with a shrug, Shiryu groaned and clutched his chest. What the hell? He was fine a moment ago, why is he looking like he's at death's door all of a sudden? Look at that face; he might actually die if I leave him like that.
"Bringing up such important news so suddenly... this old man's heart cannot take it..."
Whoa, he's really going. I quickly pressed several pressure points and gave him a light cardiac massage.
"Where else are you going to find a disciple giving his master a massage? You're lucky it's me."
"Hoho... though to anyone else, we probably look like a grandfather and his grandson."
"Sigh. Thinking about things like that, looking young isn't always a good thing."
Well, it's certainly better than looking old, though.
After sharing a few more trivial jokes and confirming his complexion had improved, I stood up from my seat.
"By the way... since when did you decide to make me one of the Ten Kings?"
"I told you when I first got here. You and all the others are bound for Hell. I thought you'd have figured it out by now since you've lived long enough, but did you really not know?"
"I didn't think it meant that. I truly thought it meant you were going to drag us to Hell to make us pay for our sins..."
"Why would I want to look at your faces even in Hell? No thanks, kid. I'm sick of it already."
When I waved my hand in absolute refusal, Shiryu nodded with a bitter smile. After a brief silence, he spoke again.
"Then, am I to go to Hell right this moment?"
"No, live about fifty more years before you come."
"Pardon?"
I've marked him as a candidate for the Ten Kings, but I have no intention of dragging him to Hell yet. What use would an old man who can barely move his own body be? Even if it gets a bit better in Hell, he'd still be useless.
I need to finish at least the bare minimum of preparations before I take him. More importantly, the Six Realms of Reincarnation haven't even been fully established yet.
Even if you're going to die, you should finish everything you need to do here before kicking the bucket. Don't make me do the same work twice; just wrap up your business and take your time coming over.
"Just so you know, if you're too late, I'll come up personally and drag you down by the hair. Don't even dream of running away."
I meant it—I would literally chase him to the ends of the world to slap that Ten King crown on his head. Leaving behind Shiryu, who looked utterly shell-shocked by the very sincere threat, I stepped out of the Shiba estate.
"Now... the next stop is... the Tsunayashiro estate."
The direction was west of the Soul King Palace, where the sun sets.
"I'll head there, finish up my business, and head back."
The 'business' in question was informing the family about Tsunayashiro Jomon's whereabouts. No matter how heinous his crimes, the man was still the progenitor of a Great Noble House.
He was a pathetic ancestor who stayed holed up in the Soul King Palace and didn't care for his clan, but the family would be in an uproar if their progenitor vanished overnight. I needed to go personally and settle the situation.
Even if Jomon was a piece of trash, his descendants weren't necessarily the same. I couldn't exactly punish them for his crimes through guilt by association, so for a clean finish, I had to put in this much effort.
"Hmm..."
I should probably just say something like, 'Your ancestor committed a major sin and fell into Hell, so don't waste your energy looking for him,' right?
Hmm... no. It's better to just be blunt and tell them everything. It would be a pain if they tried to shield him just because he's their elder.
I walked along, wondering where exactly to start the story, and before I knew it, I had arrived at the Tsunayashiro estate.
"The mansion is surprisingly normal."
I expected them to have decorated it like the Soul King Palace, but it was just an ordinary mansion with gatekeepers guarding the entrance. Of course, 'ordinary' was only in comparison to the Soul King Palace; compared to any common house, it was overwhelmingly massive.
Closing my eyes and sensing the interior, I realized this place was 'clean' in a different sense than the Shiba estate. While the Shiba estate felt clean because it was well-organized, the Tsunayashiro estate felt clean because there was literally nothing there.
If there was a moderate amount of empty space, I would have called it 'aesthetic,' but the level of vacancy here felt obsessive. It felt less like 'clean' and more like 'hollow.'
If not for the gatekeepers at the entrance and the presence of people inside, I would have thought they'd gotten wind of my arrival and fled in the middle of the night.
"Excuse me for a bit."
"Yes? Who are you?"
I blinked at the gatekeeper, who looked at me as if wondering who this random guy was. Strictly speaking, he wasn't wrong, but it was a bit ridiculous.
Does it make any sense that these bastards used my name for everything, and yet not a single one of them knows what I look like?
Even if they were bad at it, they should have left a drawing for their kin. Or at least described my appearance.
It was frustrating, but I couldn't exactly plow through kids who simply didn't recognize my face. I brought up a name they would at least recognize.
"Shimon Meio."
"...! Please wait a moment. I will relay the message inside."
At the very least, my name must have been passed down. The gatekeeper shuddered and immediately ran inside. The other gatekeeper remaining at the post stole glances at me while trying to look like he wasn't.
"What, are you surprised the ancestor of the Five Great Noble Houses looks so young?"
"Ugh. No, I wasn't! My apologies!"
"What's there to apologize for? I'm not scolding you, so relax, kid."
I patted the shoulder of the gatekeeper, who was flustered enough to stutter.
"Have a seat. We've got nothing to do while waiting, let's chat."
"I'm sorry. I am currently on duty..."
"Is that so? Then I'll just sit by myself."
Without even dusting off the ground, I plopped down on the steps. The gatekeeper looked quite taken aback.
"Why are you so surprised? Did Jomon not tell you the kind of person your 'ancestor' was?"
"Ah... well... usually, nobles don't even speak to lowborn commoners like us..."
"Sigh. When you die, everyone is just a lump of meat filled with shit and piss. What does class or status matter?"
There may be low occupations, but there are no low humans. There may be high occupations, but there are no high humans.
If 'blue blood' really existed the way those guys claim, why would the Soul King be stuck up there, unable to even die?
Well... I suppose it's not really my place to say, considering I call myself the Nether King.
Feeling a bit bitter, I smacked my lips and rested my chin on my hand.
"Hey, do you know? The ones you call ancestors—Jomon, Shiryu, Myoren, Rasatsu. Those guys used to live in wooden huts. The kind of houses where rain would leak through the bug-eaten ceilings."
And now those guys act like nobles.
It's truly a funny thing.
"So, if an opportunity ever comes your way, grab it. Don't just give up and say, 'I have the blood of a gatekeeper, so I'll just be a gatekeeper.'"
"...Thank you for the kind words."
"Oh, right. We were talking, and I forgot to ask your name. What is it?"
"Ah. My name is Ikkanzaka. I have no surname."
Ikkanzaka...
"Ah."
So it's *that* Ikkanzaka. In the end, they couldn't give up the role of gatekeeper.
Sigh... well, if he likes it, what can I do?
Still, at least 'Ikkanzaka' remained as a surname rather than just a name, so I guess that counts for something. A million-year-long lineage of gatekeepers... I guess you need that kind of persistence to be a gatekeeper. In a way, it's actually impressive.
"Alright, keep up the good work."
Sensing the gatekeeper who went inside returning with another presence, I stood up from the steps.
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Please send the Power Stones. We're losing this race before it's even truly begun.
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