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1 Afterlife

The air shimmered like a mirage over the bustling Bangkok street. A tuk-tuk driver blasted gangsta rap, oblivious to the spectral figure looking pitifully :'( at the mango sticky rice stall. This was just another Tuesday for Hank, afterlife consultant extraordinaire.

Across the street, a towering figure clad in a leather vest that wouldn't look out of place at a Hells Angels meeting polished off a steaming bowl of boat noodles. Siwanna, with his cascading white beard and sun-baked skin, resembled an Aussie biker who got lost in a retirement brochure. Except, Siwanna wasn't Australian, nor did he crave retirement well, not too soon, at least. He, like Hank, was no longer mortal. They were both part of a vast, unseen organization – the Afterlife Bureau.

Unlike the grim reapers of legend, the Afterlife Bureau wasn't about collecting souls. It was about guiding them. Every soul, upon leaving the mortal realm, passed through the Bureau's offices scattered around the world. The Bureau can be thought of as a vast factory that processes the souls of humans after they die, recycling them back into the cycle of life and realm based on their Karma. The Bureau has many departments, each with its own unique responsibilities, but our focus is on the First Responding Department aka Afterlife Consultant Office. Bangkok was Siwanna's domain, and for over a century, he'd overseen the transition of countless souls. Hank, with his youthful appearance and awkward charm, had been by his side for the past fifty years – practically a son Siwanna never had, despite the lack of any real family ties in the afterlife.

"Another lost spirit??" Siwanna rumbled, his voice a gravelly echo. He took a sip of his steaming boat noodles, the aroma of fish sauce and chili peppers wafting through the air. ^_^

Hank, impeccably dressed in a white tuxedo that earned him comparisons to a flightless penguin more than once, sighed. (-_-) "Poor guy doesn't realize he's...well, transitioned. Won the lottery, and was about to jet off to Hollywood for his big break. Now he's done for..."

Siwanna chuckled, a sound like rocks grinding together. "Stubborn souls are our bread and butter, Hank. Remember that dancer, young Naree? The one who captivated audiences with her Khon performance? Well, after her...passing, she refused to leave the rehearsal hall for weeks. Kept insisting her understudy wasn't graceful enough to take her place." He shook his head, a hint of exasperation in his voice. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Unlike the corporate world, Siwanna has observed for years of existence, there were no promotions or paychecks here. They served a higher purpose, ensuring a smooth transition for the departed. Siwanna, with his experience and quiet authority, oversaw the entire Bangkok branch. He may have been Hank's boss, but the bond they shared went far deeper. Siwanna saw the raw potential in the young consultant, his unorthodox methods often proving surprisingly effective.

"Speaking of dreams," Siwanna rumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice, "you still going on about that afterlife bar?" (^_~)

Hank's eyes gleamed. ✨ "Absolutely, Si! Think about it. A place for lost souls to unwind, a purgatory pub! We could serve ethereal cocktails, existential mocktails...the possibilities are endless!" He leaned in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Imagine the look on the big boss's face when we serve up a round of Nirvana Negronis." (^o^)

Siwanna's brow furrowed, and he let out a deep sigh. (-_-) "While the idea has a certain morbid charm, remember, getting inebriated on the job is highly frowned upon by the Bureau. Even with those fancy afterlife concoctions you're so fond of brewing." He paused, his gaze fixed on Hank. "Besides, I was hoping you'd consider taking over as the office manager here in Bangkok. I'm, well, not as young as I used to be, and the thought of retiring to a beachside villa in Phuket is rather tempting." (^_^)

Hank's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Siwanna raised a weathered hand. "Hear me out, Hank. You've got a knack for this, a way of connecting with the departed that I've never quite mastered. And let's be honest, your little bar idea is more likely to cause a spectral bar brawl than help anyone transition smoothly." He chuckled a hint of pride in his voice. "No, what we need is someone with your empathy, your unorthodox approach to guide this office. I'm ready to pass the torch, my friend."

Hank was speechless, his mind racing. (O_O) Siwanna had always been a mentor, a father figure of sorts, but this was a level of trust and responsibility he hadn't expected. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of Siwanna's centuries-old gaze. "I, uh, I don't know what to say. I mean, you've been doing this for so long, and I'm just..." He trailed off, his usual bravado fading.

Siwanna reached out and clapped a hand on Hank's shoulder, his grip surprisingly strong. "You're ready, Hank. I've seen it in you, time and time again. And don't worry, I'll still be around, pestering you about your bar schemes and making sure you don't burn the place down." He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. (;

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