Chapter 3

The next morning.

"Right!"

I overslept.

The alarm kept ringing because I had forgotten to charge my phone, and the time displayed on the screen, with only 8% battery left, was 10:24 AM. Since the start of the workday was at 9:00 AM, I was definitely late.

The call history showed the name of my section chief, Hayakawa, who still hadn't memorized my last name.

He was a model of a black-hearted boss who thought it was his job to yell at us from the start to the end of the workday, then pushed his actual work onto others and left on time.

Due to his appearance and habit of laying eggs, he was given the scientific name "Bald Cuckoo" within the department.

I tapped the screen, which was filled with the names of such Bald Cuckoos, and pressed the phone to my ear, turning the volume down to the minimum.

After about ten rings—incidentally, he always said that anyone who doesn't answer on the first ring is trash— the electronic tone indicating the call had connected sounded.

"I'm sorry, Chief. I'll head to the office right away, so please give me an hour, no, I'll take a taxi at my own expense, so please give me just thirty minutes."

"Ah, Matsumoto-kun. You don't need to come in."

My vision went dark as I was cut off by his response.

You don't need to come in.

In Japan, those words mean only one thing.

"Actually, don't come in. I have a family too. Absolutely, never, step foot on our company premises again."

...Huh?

Something was off. It seemed I was being fired, but the chief's voice was unusually urgent, like someone suffering from stomach pain on a crowded train.

"Um, Chief, what do you mean by that?"

"I'll explain."

The voice on the phone changed. I recognized this unnecessarily arrogant, rough voice.

"...President?"

"Aye."

I immediately recognized him because I had to listen to a tape every morning about gratitude for labor. He was the representative director of my company, President Kuki, who believed that tapes conveyed feelings better than CDs.

"Why is the president—"

"I intended to leave it to Hayakawa-kun, but he clutched his stomach and ran to the bathroom."

Was it really that painful?

I wanted to comment on that, but the chief's condition was the least of my concerns right now.

"So, what's going to happen to me?"

"Just as Hayakawa-kun said. You've been headhunted and transferred to the other company as of today."

What do you mean, "transferred"?

What about my own will?

"Um, I don't understand what you mean."

"Rest assured, I don't understand it either. The only thing I'm sure of is that, in exchange for you, we've secured the largest deal in the history of our company. Thank you, Matsumoto-kun."

Human trafficking. Slave trade. Human sacrifice.

These words were swirling in my head.

"So, where is my new workplace?"

"The other party will contact you soon. In any case, you are no longer an employee of our company. I don't want you to be seen as having lingering feelings, so please don't come within a five-kilometer radius of our company. Farewell, Matsumoto-kun. I won't forget you."

"Wait, President? President! Hey, what are you talking about, Headhunter Namihei?!"

I tried to speak into the phone, but all I got was an electronic tone warning me that the battery was down to 5%.

"Besides, my name isn't Matsumoto, it's Matsu-tomo. How many times have I told you that..."

It's not just a matter of remembering; he never even bothered to learn it. The only one who called me by my correct name was probably a junior colleague.

Somehow, all the strength drained from my body, and I slumped against the wall.

"There's only one reason this could have happened, right?"

I remembered the conversation with my neighbor last night. I thought it was just a joke made in the heat of the moment, or maybe it was all a dream.

But the reality was undeniable, as evidenced by the crowbar lying on the floor and the sound of the intercom ringing.

"Good morning."

"Yes, good morning... So, this is your doing, Soubame-san!?"

"I told you, there's nothing to worry about."

Soubame-san, who was dressed sharply in a suit, unlike yesterday, smiled smugly. This seemed to be her work mode.

"Are you really serious about hiring me?"

"I said I would yesterday. Of course, we'll sign a proper employment contract. My company will handle all the administrative procedures, so leave it to me."

Soubame-san said this with a bit of a smug look, as if she had managed to get the company to agree to her demands as part of her benefits.

"I can't even get angry anymore..."

"In that case, let's get started. Oh, please call me Mio. Soubame Mio."

I was dragged out of my house and taken to the Soubame residence next door.

She closed the door behind me, and from the sound of it, she went down in the elevator and came back up. Her footsteps approached.

"I'm home, Matsumoto-san!"

"...Welcome back, Mio-san."

And so, I managed to change jobs in just seven hours.

My new employer: Soubame Mio.

Job description: Greet Mio-san when she comes home.

It was a proper employment contract with a monthly salary of 300,000 yen, and the workplace was right next to my home.

On paper, it was a job with nothing to complain about, a perfect fit. If there was one thing I had to say, it was:

"My name is Matsu-tomo!"

This is the story of me and my neighbor, Mio-san.

That concludes the prologue. Thank you for reading. According to Hollywood scriptwriting techniques, it's appropriate to use about 10,000 characters for the introduction (I checked), and it's roughly that length.

How did you find the story so far? If you could rate it with the stars below, I would be very, very happy!