Chapter 14

Goddess Melinoe frowned as she looked at the suddenly-appeared prince, Zagreus.

Of all people to run into right now—why him?

Still, this wasn’t the time to worry about awkward family ties.

“Zagreus, hasn’t Sisyphus’s break already gone past ten minutes? What are you going to do about that? If things stand, Section Chief Joy won’t be able to avoid a pay cut.”

“Mel, didn’t you see the hourglass Joy was holding earlier? That was a ten-minute one. As long as the sand hasn’t run out, Sisyphus’s break isn’t technically over yet.”

“That wasn’t a ten-minute hourglass. That thing was an hour.”

“Then take it up with Chronos. If he says it’s ten minutes, then even an hour becomes ten. You’re not questioning divine authority, are you? That’d be incredibly rude.”

Among gods, there was a rule: all divine authority and realms must be respected.

Even the highest of gods had to acknowledge the power of the smallest.

And apparently, Section Chief Joy knew that rule very well.

“For a regular employee, he’s remarkably calculating. If this ends well, we’ll owe him a huge debt. Just thinking about what kind of reward to give him is already giving me a headache.”

Melinoe stayed silent.

Zagreus wasn’t expecting a reply anyway, so the two stood in uncomfortable silence above the underworld river.

These two had once clashed over the management of Soul Society and the succession of power.

No words were exchanged, but the tension between them was palpable.

After a few beats, Zagreus finally broke the silence.

“You seem to care quite a bit about Joy.”

“It’s the opposite. He cares about me.”

Princess Melinoe clenched the coin purse in her pocket.

Zagreus, unaware of what that meant, started to speak—then offered her something small and round.

“Want some candy?”

“No.”

“You used to love candy.”

“I never did. I’m a dignified and flawless goddess by nature. Unlike you.”

“Of course you are. Then I suppose the great, flawless goddess won’t be too concerned about the upcoming grand audit, right? You do know that even the presence of executives can’t protect anyone from those inspectors?”

The Grand Audit.

The kind that digs up the oldest documents and scrutinizes every digit, every letter.

Just the thought made Melinoe exhausted—but also a bit impressed.

Section Chief Joy.

The entire reason he pulled this stunt was because of that audit.

“The Orpheus case always had problems. No one made a fuss before, but with this ‘workplace renewal’ campaign, everything’s changing...”

If she had done nothing, Melinoe would’ve been humiliated.

So Joy chose to play the fall guy, risking demotion, punishment—or even dismissal—for her sake.

“Joy... you went this far... for me?”

Melinoe tried to recall their first meeting.

But... it was all a blur.

It was the first time in her life she’d gotten completely wasted.

The first time her memory ever blacked out.

What she did remember was that the next morning, Joy risked being late for an important event just to return her lost wallet.

And since that day, he’d constantly gone out of his way to help her.

“He’s definitely in love with me. I may not remember what I said while drunk, but he must’ve fallen for me then.”

It had to be love at first sight.

After all, she was perfect, refined, and without flaws or weaknesses. A literal goddess.

“What a terrifying woman I am.”

Of course, Melinoe was not someone a mere mortal like Joy could easily covet.

She defined herself as the ultimate career woman—and the terrifying goddess of nightmares.

“Oh right. Zagreus, do you have a soul named Magnus living in your Elysium?”

“Why?”

“To give him a... really awful time.”

***

Ugh.

I just got chills all of a sudden.

Why?

Easy.

Because of Sisyphus.

“Section Chief Joy, you really are a terrifying man! You even accounted for Prince Zagreus’s appearance in all this. Just how many moves ahead are you playing!?”

Sisyphus couldn’t stop trembling with awe the entire boat ride to the Elysium riverbank.

“I thought the timing was too perfect... but to think you even predicted Chronos and me would play along… It’s chilling!”

What was he even going on about?

At this point, I was starting to get scared—did I accidentally mastermind something without realizing it?

“I always thought I was as clever as Prometheus, but clearly I’m no match for you, Chief Joy.”

“Mr. Sisyphus, what are you talking about?”

“The Grand Audit, of course. This whole thing—it’s about that, isn’t it? Especially since this year’s audit is... special. Because of ‘the rookie.’”

Right.

I knew the grand audit was coming.

And I knew the HQ audit team was ruthless enough to dig up dirt even from spotless sheets.

They’d flip through every document, find every flaw. No matter how clean you were, they’d uncover something.

“And based on severity, they hand out punishments. Pay cuts, even firings. Maybe I’ll get fired for this whole Orpheus mess. I sure hope so…”

Committing an outright violation right before a major audit?

It was practically a protest to get fired.

But Sisyphus, now convinced he understood everything, kept marveling to himself.

“Wow, this is getting exciting. But I probably shouldn’t talk too much. You know how it is—secrecy is everything in this operation. I’ll just pretend I don’t know anything.”

Pretend not to know what, exactly?

Either way, the overly-dramatic musclehead finally shut up.

Which was a good thing.

The only thing that was certain was that I had personally authorized Orpheus’s release.

A blatant abuse of authority.

I gave him a nudge to complete the mission.

“Mr. Orpheus, time to get off the boat.”

“Chief Joy... I really think we should go back. Look over there—those buildings reach so high, they might as well touch the surface! It’s too grand a place for a washed-up singer like me…”

He was being timid.

Maybe the radiant cityscape of Elysium was intimidating him.

He hesitated at the threshold—so I kept pushing him forward.

“Just get off. Come on.”

Eventually, both of us stepped foot into the new city of Elysium.

Now then… where were we supposed to go again?

I pulled out the map to check, but—

“…That sound…”

Orpheus, who had been trembling like a coward just moments ago, suddenly started walking… slowly… purposefully… somewhere.

# # #

Every time Orpheus closed his eyes, he tried to recall the memories of his past life.

Those happy moments…

Because from the deepest parts of those memories, came inspiration.

—Orpheus, and—Ke. Until death do you part, the two of you will always be together.

Thinking back to that day filled him with warmth.

And at the same time, it hurt—like someone was stabbing his chest with a cold, sharp shovel.

There was a gaping hole in his heart.

Even when he tried to sing the songs he once loved, the hollow echoed inside him, producing only sounds he hated.

“What’s wrong with me…?”

He had lost something.

But he couldn’t even remember what he had lost.

Each time that feeling crept in, Orpheus would sing louder—and people would criticize him.

—Ugh, back when he was alive, he was such a big deal.

—Orpheus? Please, he’s washed up now.

—Are we even sure that’s the real Orpheus?

Washed up.

Maybe his career as a singer had ended the moment he lost that thing.

Orpheus desperately tried to remember.

And he became convinced—it was the lyre made from a nymph’s hair.

Ding, ding, ding…

He heard that familiar string sound in the distance.

Wandering through the city lights of this strange new place, Orpheus turned to Section Chief Joy in awe.

“What… what is that, Chief Joy?”

“That’s a billboard. It must be your first time in Elysium, huh?”

Orpheus looked up at the giant screen towering above.

A woman’s face shone brightly on the display.

Golden hair…

“Top group E&S! Dome concert this weekend!”

“‘I Forgot You’ + 21 full live performances!”

The image of her was dazzling.

So familiar.

So dear.

So painful.

As he stared at her, something hot surged from deep within his chest.

—Olphie, sing for me. Hurry!

—Eurydice, let’s sing a duet together.

“…Ah… Aah…”

How could he have forgotten until now?

The one he loved so deeply he’d braved death itself to find her in the underworld?

She wasn’t just his muse—she was his soul.

He had lost that soul.

And that’s why no song had ever come out right.

“Orpheus, are your memories coming back?”

“Chief Joy, could you tell Eurydice that I’ve come to see her? She’ll surely be happy to see me! Where do I go to find her? Is she in this city?!”

Ding, ding, ding…

He followed the melody down the road.

Eventually, he reached a street concert.

A woman stood on stage, singing into a mic.

“It’s okay—ding ding ding ding~”

The sight of her was unmistakable.

Orpheus raised his hand and called out—

“Eurydi—!”

“Euriole!”

“Euriole!”

“Encore!”

But his voice was swallowed by the roaring crowd.

Unlike Orpheus, who had forgotten his soul, she was singing joyfully with her bandmates.

She was now known as Euriole, beloved by the masses.

She’d cut her long hair short.

The timid face he remembered now carried a confident smile.

“Alright! For the finale, we’re performing our new track—‘I Forgot You!’ Give it up!”

Woooo—!

“…”

Orpheus caught a glimpse of his reflection in a nearby shop window.

White clown makeup.

Hair grown long with no meaning.

The person they remembered… didn’t exist anymore.

“…Chief Joy, I think I’d like to head back now. It’s been a long day.”

“But we’ve come all this way. Aren’t you going to meet Eurydice? Her show’s almost over.”

“It’s fine. Seeing that she’s doing well… that’s enough.

Joy, thank you—for taking such a risk for me. I won’t forget this debt…”

The clown who had lost his soul turned away from the lights and cheers of the divine city.

He stumbled along, unsteady, back toward the river.

He returned to his narrow, dark room.

This time, he never looked back.

“If I truly loved her…

Then disappearing quietly like this is the right thing to do…”

Orpheus curled up on the bed.

No music filled his room.

He was as silent as a dead canary.

Meanwhile, the other residents in the apartment complex whispered with admiration—

“Section Chief Joy… what kind of sorcery did that terrifying man pull off?”

“I can’t believe that so-called Orpheus actually stopped singing.”

“It’s so peaceful now. I love it!”