I am no genius doctor who specializes in assassinations using poisons.
Neither am I someone who excels in either politics or economic management.
And also, I am not a person who have any psychological issues, bent on indiscriminate massacre and genocide with no reason at all.
Indeed, I do know of many variations of lethal martial arts - however, that knowledge only goes so far as to knowing their names and nothing else more.
I am neither a hero nor a villain - heck, I don't think I'm even in between.
And maybe the only redeeming characteristic about me is that I clearly know that I have no redeeming characteristics at all.
I had even lived a passive life to the point that only a few documents can verify my whole existence.
I am just your ordinary mob character that's supposed to never take the spotlight.
...
...
...
It is true that I am fond of reading fantasy novels where the protagonist is transported to another world where magic is everything but a dream.
The idea itself is uniquely interesting - but who would really want that to happen to themselves?
At least I know that I wouldn't.
I would never want to exchange this very convenient world that I currently live in with another that is full of hardships where freaks of nature and monstrosities who would want you for dinner is nothing but a stone's throw away.
I repeat - NEVER!
Even if the life that I'm living now is nowhere near the ideal life that most peopleof my age would dream of.
I never asked for anything.
...
...
...
(So what the hell am I doing here now?)
...
...
...
These are the thoughts that are currently running through my head.
...
...
...
It all began on that hateful day...
...
...
...
Being rejected again for the 665th time, I have already accepted the feeling of multiple rejections like it was just some passing gas.
At the tender age of 25, I had already accumulated a lot of battle experience that you can call me a hardened veteran of job interviews.
And now, as I am heading off to war for the 666th time, I checked my battle gear once again to see if there was anything that I've forgotten - which is unlikely because I just checked myself last five minutes ago.
On my hand, I proudly wield with me my resume - and various superfluous documents that are neatly compiled in a folder that I just bought yesterday - which contains every posible amount of data on how much I've been miserable and a failure at life.
I'm wearing a very formal long sleeved black dress that seems as if I'm attending to your diseased father's funeral - inside, you will find stacks of multiple layers of breast pads that is evenly distributed to both sides that should make one's confidence and favorability rating shoot through the roof.
A black round-rimmed non-prescription glasses adorned my dark-brown deadpan eyes that I only wear specifically in order to look more intellectually superior.
My chestnut-brown hair that flows straight all the way down to my waist is tied in a fuller ponytail while my bangs that is cut just above my eyes is neatly combed to absolute perfection, you can measure it exactly perpendicular to the ground.
On my feet is my favorite six-inch black platform high heels with several layers of insoles that magically boosts my naturally pitiful height of 154 centimeters.
All in all, I dressed myself up to look more or less like what a very professional person would do.
...
...
...
(With this, I should be able to triumphantly step over any competition... right?)
...
...
...
The company who contacted me right away after receiving my desperate application is called World System's Management Inc., they seem to be involved in IT related management of some sorts.
I applied for the position of a product quality tester that I saw on their advertisment on the morning newspaper yesterday.
It said in there that there are no said requirements for the job... and although I found it to be shady, I still sent an application BECAUSE I F***ING CAN!
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
(Is the job really that urgent for them to call me right after receiving my application via email?)
(Well, if they are that desperate, maybe I would get the job this time... right?)
(I truly hope so.)
...
...
...
Despite being intensely nervous, I managed to arrive at the building - where I am supposed to have my interview - on time.
(I can't seem to remember this building being here before... maybe it's just newly built, I guess. Buildings nowadays grow just like mushroom sprouting everywhere.)
As I went further in, the tension only seems to rise the more I get closer to the designated room as if I'm going to be scheduled for execution.
The said room is on the 13th floor and the moment I stood in front of the door, my mind reminded me of the past rejections that I received.
(If I fail here again...)
I pushed all of my depressing thoughts at the corner of my head and knocked a few times before stepping in.
...
...
...
The room that welcomed me is a wide office with its inside walls painted white where various certificates are hanged, there is also a bulettin of some sorts that shows something like 'Employee of the Decade' or whatever.
On the back end of the room - where a wide window offers a view of the busy cityscape outside - is an office table with a man, who is most likely the interviewer, is seated behind.
After I gave my greetings that I have rehearsed multiple times in front of the mirror and handing in a hard copy of my resume which he recieved without even giving it single look inside as he just placed it inside his drawer, the man who introduced himself as Mr. Smith, motioned for me to sit on the chair on front of the table.
After he established his dominance over me, he finally spoke.
...
...
...
"Now then... Let us talk about the employment details, shall we?"
"Eh... already?"
As his words finally made it through my ears, all my preparations seem to have collapsed including my composure as I was at a loss for words.
(Is this a test to see gow much confident I am to take the job?)
"The fact that you've managed to see through our advertisement and send your application to us is already proof that you're fit for the job, no?"
(Hmm... strange? It doesn't look like some test. Maybe I should just ride on with it...)
"If you are talking about my desperate determination - then, yes."
"Then let's proceed with the details... here is the contract."
(He already wants me to sign the contract? Is this some sort of black company?)
I carefully received the contract and just skimmed through it as I was lost in my irrelevant thoughts - and also because there are too many pages and the letters are too tiny for me to read.
(Nevermind, a job is a job. As long as I get paid some cash, then that'll be alright. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.)
As I confidently signed my name on three copies of the contract, I thought I saw the man give a smirk from the corner of my eyes - as if a predator catching his prey.
Ignoring these things, I carefully handed back the contract, making sure that nothing happened to it - something like a meteor suddenly falling from the sky and smashing it to oblivion - because my future employment depends on it.
He looked at the page where I previously signed my name and gave off a mysterious smile.
(I know that my penmanship is not that good but that signiture is what I managed to make through several hours of trial and error - please do not look down on it!)
Before my feeling of annoyance show on my face, I asked him a question that every newly employed person needs to know.
"So, Mr. Smith, when do I start?"
"About..."
He looked at his wristwatch seemingly waiting for something.
...
...
...
"Now."
"Wha-"
After his words ended, the floor underneath me instantly vanished before I sank into the darkness without even managing to scream as I lost consciousness.
...
...
...
End of V1C1