Chapter 2 

A nymph as my new boss?

I hate nymphs so much I don’t even sleep with my head facing North—

because nymph and North both start with N.

Honestly, I’d rather get fired than work under a nymph.

So… it’s time for a plan.

“Markius, got anything on the new exec? You worked under Charon in Logistics for years—you must’ve seen or heard something.”

“Trying to score points already? I guess you’ll be Employee of the Year again. Poor Krates was gunning for it this time.”

Score points? Please. I was planning to do the exact opposite.

Like serving the one food I can’t stand at the welcome party.

Or royally screwing up on purpose.

“Markius, I’ll pay you. Just get me solid intel.”

Clink—

I dropped a gold coin into his hand, but Markius just waved it off.

“Jo Iseo, I owe you too much already. If I learn anything, I’ll tell you for free.”

What he told me was that the incoming executive is… a nymph.

Honestly? Even that felt suspicious.

A nymph—a nature spirit of flowers, rivers, mountains, and forests—working in this lava-drenched hellscape of Happy World?

No way.

Maybe she was dispatched from the surface.

Transfers are happening all over the place these days.

‘Whatever she is, my plan doesn’t change: get on her bad side and get fired.’

But then—there was a problem.

“Jo Iseo! Where are you! Jo!”

It doesn’t matter what company you work at, there’s always that one person you can’t stand.

And that person is usually your boss.

“Ah, there you are! Jo Iseo! Our pride and joy! Our star employee!”

The skeleton shouting in front of me looked like a basic dungeon mob, but don’t be fooled—he wasn’t trash-tier. He was an elite monster.

Specifically, the head of the Tartarus Punishment Enforcement Division.

Everyone called him Bones.

He was a parachute hire from headquarters, the Palace of Hades, and the real issue? He was absolutely convinced I was some kind of genius.

‘Just once, can’t he be like a normal mean boss and yell at me?’

Even without eyeballs, that skull of his managed to sparkle with pride as he handed me a new stack of work.

I could tell where this was going.

“Jo Iseo! You heard the news about the new exec coming to Happy World, right?”

“The nymph?”

“Exactly! That’s our star employee! The lazy dead don’t even know where the bulletin board is, but you’re always ahead of the game! Outstanding!”

Clack, clack—

His bony jaw chattered in satisfaction.

“Which means you already know what I need from you! Special prisoner R-08A is acting up again. Handle it before the exec gets here!”

Special prisoners were exactly what they sounded like—legendary criminals who’d committed absolute atrocities while alive.

They were nightmares to manage. Everyone dreaded dealing with them.

“He’s acting out again?”

“He can’t behave for even one day.”

“R-08A… That’s an A-class inmate. No one can even get near him…”

See? Even the other staff were flipping out.

And now they wanted me to handle him?

Out of nowhere?

Normally, I’d be ripping my hair out over a dump-truck-sized assignment like this.

But today was different.

“Understood. I’ll make sure he’s properly corrected.”

“Ooooh! That’s our Jo Iseo! Brimming with confidence!”

Of course I’m confident.

Because I’m planning to fail on purpose.

“If Jo’s on it, we can rest easy!”

“That scammer R-08A has tricked our staff so many times already!”

Waaaah—

Cheers and hopeful praise erupted from every direction.

Perfect. The higher their expectations, the harder they’ll crash when I mess up.

If the nymph arrives to find total chaos under my watch, my sparkling rep will crash and burn—maybe straight to a pink slip.

“Jyoji.”

“Jozhi.”

And just like that, I’ll leave this bug-infested, cockroach-colony of a Happy World and head straight for Olympus.

It was my plan, and it was genius.

Working hard is hard.

But working badly? Anyone can do that.

Even a fifth grader could.

# # #

I left the Punishment Enforcement Department and headed for the field site where actual sentences were being carried out.

My destination: the holding site of our biggest headache—Special Inmate R-08A, Sisyphus.

Sisyphus:

A legendary conman who tricked multiple gods while he was alive.

As punishment, he was sentenced to eternally push a boulder up a mountain… only to have it roll back down each time he reached the top.

An endless loop of effort and failure.

I felt no sympathy for him.

Even in the afterlife, this weasel had tricked our staff more times than I could count.

Still, some small part of me couldn’t help but wonder—“If I try to escape this place and fail… would I end up like him?”

Anyway, the problem began during the recent corporate restructuring, when the entire Underworld was rebranded as the Soul Society.

Even the punishments doled out to the dead were being “modernized,” and this is what that led to:

“A boulder? Why should I roll that anymore?”

There he was—Sisyphus—not pushing a rock up a mountain, but lying flat on the ground like he was on vacation.

“—Fwooo—”

“—Whoo whoo—”

The tiny ghost workers of the site hovered near him, trying to get through to him.

But he ignored them completely, lazing about like a smug retiree.

“What? Me? Push a rock? Nah, I’m good.”

“Everyone, thank you for your hard work. I’m Jo Iseo from Team 4, Punishment Enforcement. What exactly is going on here?”

As soon as I stepped in, the tiny ghosts floated toward me, ready to vent.

“Fwooo—!”

“Whooo—”

They were these little, cloud-like blobs with sheets over their heads—almost absurdly cute.

“So what you’re saying is, Sisyphus is taking advantage of the newly signed clause in his updated contract regarding ‘break time’ and refusing to carry out his punishment?”

Nod, nod! NOD—!

The ghosts nodded with such energy I thought their wispy heads would pop off.

Then they pointed at the hulking man who looked like he bench-pressed boulders for breakfast.

And he probably did.

After spending eternity rolling rocks, Sisyphus had become a muscle-bound monster in human form.

A cunning brain in a body of steel.

He looked at me and laughed heartily.

“Jo Iseo, you speak Ghost Language fluently? Now that’s a model employee. There’s a saying:

‘He who is loved by ghosts is no ordinary soul—’”

“Mr. Sisyphus, I’m not a guard anymore. I’m an associate. Please use the correct title.”

“Come on. Guard, associate—it’s the same job with a different name, right? Just corporate gimmicks. Tartarus? Happy World? Who cares what you call it? Slap a pretty name on it and it’s still hell!”

I almost agreed.

The fact that the only person who truly understood my job… was a condemned soul in eternal punishment?

That hurt a little.

“A restructuring, huh? What kind of delusion is sweeping this hellhole? Jo Iseo, I can’t make heads or tails of it. What’s even changing? And why?”

He was sharp-tongued and manipulative—a nightmare for our staff.

Apparently, he was using a clause in his new contract to demand break time… and refusing to push the boulder.

Problem is, the kinetic energy generated by him rolling the boulder is what powers the lights in the dorms for the ghost workers here in Happy World.

Without that energy source, the poor ghost workers were stuck living in darkness.

“Jo Iseo, I’m simply taking a legitimate break, as outlined in my newly signed contract. See for yourself.”

Flap—

The arrogant man tossed me a dusty contract.

Sure enough, it read:

“Sisyphus will continue his punishment as usual, but may take a 10-minute break after every five ascents.”

The problem?

I had no memory of ever approving this.

I’m the one who usually signs off on punishment contracts—but this one?

The signature belonged to none other than Bones, our overzealous, skull-faced department head.

Bones!

That dumb skeleton!

Under normal circumstances, this would be a total catastrophe caused by an incompetent boss.

But for me?

This was actually perfect.

“If someone like Sisyphus stirs up trouble just before the new exec arrives, the person in charge will take the fall. Which means… I might finally get fired.”

Only problem was, Sisyphus wasn’t just cunning—he was observant.

If he sensed I was scheming, he’d surely counterplay it.

So for now, I had to play the part of the perfect associate.

“Mr. Sisyphus, I urge you to resume your punishment as per the contract. Otherwise, we may need to renegotiate the terms.”

“Renegotiate? No thanks. You’re acting like I’m doing something wrong, Jo Iseo. I’m just following the rules. Ten-minute breaks, as signed.”

“Let’s be honest here. Time is a fuzzy concept in Happy World. Saying you’re on a 10-minute break is basically nonsense.”

In the afterlife, time doesn’t flow the same way it does on Earth.

At best, the changing of seasons gives us a vague sense of a passing year.

Even our own clock-in times aren’t consistent.

So technically… those “10 minutes” of break time?

Could last forever.

“Bones… how could you sign off on this nonsense?”

Clearly, our sweet, clueless skeleton got played.

But honestly, I wasn’t surprised.

Sisyphus had tricked the gods themselves—fooling a skeleton like Bones was child’s play.

“Mr. Sisyphus, this is your final warning. Refuse to renegotiate, and we’ll no longer offer you any leniency.”

Please say no.

“A warning? How interesting. I’m very curious to see what you’ll do, Jo Iseo. For now, I’ll enjoy my ten-minute break. An eternal ten-minute break.”

He spoke with arrogant composure, like a king confident in his impunity.

Perfect.

I cheered internally but kept a poker face.

“Understood. Then for now, we’ll respect your break time. The contract is binding—even the CEO can’t override it.”

“Hah, so you do understand me!”

“But you absolutely, under no circumstances, are to roll the boulder during your break. Got it? No matter what—no rolling. I repeat: absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely!”

Despite how firm I was, I couldn’t shake the unease.

Plans work best when they’re airtight.

As I pondered my next move, a glorious idea hit me:

‘What if I make his break too comfortable? Use the entire department budget to pamper him!’

Let’s do this.

As I prepared the ultimate gift for Sisyphus, my fellow associate from Team 1, Krates, scoffed at me openly.

“You’re giving a luxury gift… to the guy slacking off? That’s idiotic! Must be the pressure of your pending promotion. Ugh, this is why commoners shouldn’t be in management.”

Bones also clacked his jaw in disapproval, grabbing my shoulder.

“Jo Iseo! What are you thinking?! You blew the entire budget on a gift for a prisoner! Now we can’t even throw a welcome party for the new exec!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

The dice had been cast.

I crossed not the Rubicon—but the River Styx.

And beyond it lies Olympus…

My promised land.

# # #

The day the new executive arrived.

Krates—a former Phoenician prince turned Happy World associate in the afterlife—walked toward the company bulletin board with a light step.

His destination: the promotion announcement list.

‘That punk Jo Iseo… Trying to get promoted to assistant manager in just his second year, beating out me, who’s been working here for fifty? What a nerve. But now that he’s stuck dealing with Sisyphus, his big promotion dream is finished.’

Failing to rehabilitate Sisyphus, one of the toughest inmates in the underworld, could cost Jo Iseo everything—not a promotion, but his job.

And getting fired from Happy World—a literal “god-tier workplace”—was the ultimate disgrace.

Krates had been looking forward to seeing Jo Iseo’s face twisted in defeat.

But the smirk vanished from his own handsome face the moment he saw the bulletin.

「Promotion to Assistant Manager – Jo Iseo, Team 4, Punishment Enforcement」

「Reason – Successful rehabilitation of high-risk inmate Sisyphus」

“W-What?! This… This is ridiculous!”

What the hell happened?!

Krates was so shocked he felt like the breath had been knocked out of him.

Even though, technically… he was already dead.