[Maybe it’s okay to stay as staff here?]
[Should I take the promotion route?]
Hearing such murmurs here and there, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a trap deliberately set by management.
The meal was flawless—delicious without a single complaint. Being here made all my senses feel slightly off, but my sense of taste remained perfectly normal. In fact, I even had the illusion that I was tasting better than usual.
After finishing the meal and returning to the auditorium, the previously empty space was now packed with desks and chairs. On the walls, name tags bearing the new titles assigned by management were attached. ‘Sunny.’ I approached the damn seat with that name, where a laptop, writing utensils, and a notice with my dorm location and assigned room number were waiting.
From now on, I just had to prepare a PPT for tomorrow’s presentation. The presentation order was posted right next to the name tags.
‘Prepare your materials well so you can present without any issues when it’s your turn. If you finish early, you may head straight to your dorm. Refreshments are set up outside the auditorium, so feel free to help yourselves anytime.’
Recalling how Team Leader Kkaebi had spoken in an unusually gentle tone, I opened the laptop.
‘Performance report meeting, PPT materials, presentation…’
The seats were arranged to instill a sense of belonging and competitiveness among the new employees.
‘Is that really all there is to it?’
I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some hidden agenda behind this. Maybe they intended to weed out those whose performance was lacking or who weren’t working properly?
Management probably already had a rough grasp of the current state of affairs. But every company has certain things they value most. Not just companies, actually…
‘Motivation. Passion.’
Employers want to confirm that employees aren’t working reluctantly but rather out of their own will and initiative. I still didn’t understand why.
The problem was, this company quite literally held the employees’ lifelines in its hands. If someone were fired instead of quitting properly, no one could guarantee what kind of hell that would become.
‘Failing a quest means a one-way ticket to hell, so if you get fired…’
I couldn’t even imagine what that entailed. Shivers ran down my spine, and I shook myself off before focusing on the familiar Windows screen.
‘How do I showcase my achievements?’
Naturally, I had no intention of standing out too much. My goal was, precisely, to hit the middle ground.
Team Leader Kkaebi was in a slightly better mood today.
Of course. Since he took on the team leader role, today was the day he could legally and for a long time keep an eye on the new recruits he cared about most.
Feeling good, an uncharacteristic hum slipped out. Even the meal, which he usually found bothersome, was eaten with gusto.
[Hey, stop humming—it’s creepy.]
Damn. It really was a sad thing, working with someone who couldn’t respect a colleague’s happiness. Instead of saying anything, Kkaebi pulled out a handkerchief from his front pocket and pretended to dab at imaginary tears.
[Hey, you bastard, say something, say something.]
A harsh retort came back, but that was typical banter between them. Tossing the handkerchief into his own private space with a light gesture, Kkaebi smiled brightly.
[Sabal, I’m so sad.]
The man called ‘Sabal’ immediately furrowed his brows in frustration.
[Call me Team Leader Sa or Team Leader Muk… not that.]
He’d been called Muk Sabal for decades now, and it was a mystery why he hated his name so much. Well, thanks to his consistent reaction even after all these years, Kkaebi found it entertaining.
At that moment, someone plopped down heavily in the seat opposite Team Leader Kkaebi. Catching a quick glance, Muk Team Leader swiftly stood up with his empty tray.
[I’m heading out first.]
Kkaebi didn’t try to stop him, but the sight of Muk Team Leader briskly walking away made him chuckle quietly. With his usual friendly grin, he slowly shifted his gaze.
Rich, wavy reddish-brown hair. A plain yet distinctly sturdy black half-mask with no design.
Through the eye holes, sharp, unyielding eyes that rarely smiled.
[Team Leader Myungju, hello? I saw your explanation on the podium earlier.]
[Thank you.]
Team Leader Myungju responded in a voice devoid of any emotion. Then, she went straight to the point.
[How about transferring one of them to our team?]
Her voice remained flat. With tireless persistence, she tried to persuade Team Leader Kkaebi.
[You know very well the risks involved. No matter how well-intentioned the plan is, a good intention doesn’t always guarantee a good outcome.]
[Of course, I’m well aware.]
‘Better than anyone.’
Myungju’s eyes narrowed.
[You’re too difficult a personality to be a team leader.]
[Come on, that’s harsh.]
[And you’re still trapped in the past.]
At that moment, a thin crack appeared on Kkaebi’s face.
[Team Leader Myungju? That was a bit risky to say.]
[I didn’t want to bring this up either, but I need your consent, don’t I?]
[Haha…]
The ever-smiling face suddenly lost its smile.
[Isn’t this more like blackmail? And stirring up someone’s painful past, too.]
[Sorry. But…]
With the screech of a chair sliding back, Kkaebi cut her off and stood up, smiling brightly again.
[Sorry, but I won’t agree to moving my team members. I’ve already given my heart to my team. So if you keep this up, I might have to make things difficult for you.]
Though his tone was casual as usual, the threat was sharp. Slightly bowing his head, Kkaebi spun around fiercely.
[…]
Watching him walk away, Myungju Team Leader let out a small sigh.
The next morning.
As expected, separate seats were arranged in the auditorium for those who looked like high-ranking officials. Nameplates were placed at each seat, but I couldn’t read them. At first glance, they looked like Chinese characters, but when I tried to focus, the characters blurred and scattered.
‘Let’s just not expect to understand anything clearly here.’
That was better for my mental health.
Returning to the seat where I had sat until dawn yesterday, I checked if the completed PPT ran smoothly. I handed the USB with the PPT to the employee collecting the files, who was also wearing a distinctive half-mask.
‘This guy must be at least a higher rank than the regular staff.’
I returned to my seat, and before I knew it—
[Now, we will begin the performance report meeting for the XXX batch of new employees at Karma Corporation’s Korean branch.]
At last, the performance report meeting began.
The presentations were varied.
[Uh, I, um… so what I did was… well.]
One person had a decent PPT but fumbled during the presentation.
[When the quest arrived, I didn’t hesitate and immediately put it into action! It was quite difficult at first! But our team leader helped me a lot!]
Someone gave a disciplined, spirited presentation.
[This quest was actually very hard. It was the first quest, and it was something I had never done before. I was a bit surprised when I was suddenly told to do this out of nowhere.]
Another shared their experiences vividly.
The content of the presentations and PPTs were forgotten almost instantly. Yet, after each presentation, a slightly different feeling lingered inside me. Now I somewhat understood what Team Leader Kkaebi meant about feelings remaining.
The content wasn’t extraordinary. They were things anyone could access easily while still living in the mortal world before death—ordinary stories of ordinary people.
What was special was the fact that we were listening to these stories here, in the afterlife company’s auditorium.
At the same time, it was a bit hard to believe—all the new employees here had chosen death themselves.
‘They’re all telling stories about living in someone else’s body after death.’
[Next up is Sunny’s performance report.]
Now it was my turn.
The previous speaker stepped down, and I climbed onto the podium from below. Standing only slightly higher, the sheer number of people filling the auditorium struck me. They existed right in front of me, yet I couldn’t remember or describe their faces to anyone.
Once the presentation started, my voice echoed like a microphone naturally amplifying it. The only thing I held was a small remote for turning the slides. Playing with it in my hand, I began slowly.
[Hello, I’m Sunny from Team A.]
The only phrase the new employees here would remember. Just like I did. Knowing this, it still felt strangely hard to speak. I swallowed nervously and sighed softly.
[I was possessed by an actor.]
[Whoa, awesome.]
[Sounds fun.]
As soon as I finished, immediate reactions sprang up. They probably forgot what they were even responding to.
I rambled through the script I had organized in my mind. I didn’t explain anything about my original life. I simply gave a straightforward account of the auditions and filming after possession.
‘The higher-ups probably don’t care what kind of person I was.’
What mattered to them was how proactively I completed the quest. But that also meant I couldn’t avoid one of the things I wanted to dodge at all costs.
[So…]
My mouth suddenly felt dry.
‘This is just a self-evaluation to achieve better performance.’
I had realized this even during my conversation with Director Choi Younghwan. It’s impossible to completely hide what you feel. If you can’t hide it, better to use it to help complete the quest.
[Personally, I felt a lot of regrets during this shoot. Although my acting skills were limited, I couldn’t reach the maximum I was capable of within that limit. I intend to improve this as much as possible in future projects.]
Before I knew it, my prepared PPT was finished.
[That concludes my presentation. Thank you.]
As I bowed, surprisingly loud applause poured in. Maybe the unique nature of being an actor left some impression on them, even if they couldn’t remember. Feeling overwhelmed by the applause, I hurriedly stepped down from the podium. I was relieved there was no Q&A session.
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