Death Cast

00.13 | The Penultimate

The endless passage somehow came to an end after a long, laborious trek. Jaerim noticed the first door he came across after entering the entrance gate. Barron took them to a fully-furnished room that still had the white and grey color scheme. However, because the room was filled with people, it did not give the same dreary impression.

There were roughly twelve tables strewn throughout the room, arranged into six per group, with three tables facing another three tables. Each table is piled high with a variety of items, the majority of which are stacked folders, tabbed journals, printed papers, and sticky notes.

It wasn't messy, but left an impression that the employees were dealing with a lot of work.

The tables are split into sections by low metal cubicle barriers with clear mosaic glass affixed to the tops. Everyone could see each other if they were standing, but at least there was enough privacy to not bother each other while they were at work.

Jaerim could see three heads poking out of the cubicles from the entryway. When they heard the door open, they all raised their heads. They then returned to whatever they were doing after seeing who had arrived, as if seeing new people was nothing out of the ordinary.

Barron strolled through nonchalantly, moving down the corridor between the cubicles. Silvester remained silent and followed like an obedient puppy. In contrast, Jaerim, who was unfamiliar with the environment, couldn't help but look around and scrutinize the workplace.

The first impression is that - en, this looks like an ordinary working office.

There's nothing out of the ordinary about the place. Even though there were fewer people there, the ambiance was similar to that of a typical work station. However, it was this idea that made it seem a little suspicious.

A working environment that is clearly inhabited by supernatural beings while attempting to resemble a human workplace territory is extremely dubious.

If one were to look closely, one would be able to notice the peculiarity of the place. Nobody would realize it until someone went and stopped in between the rooms to scrutinize the area.

For starters, as Jaerim pointed out, this particular wall has been moved back a few inches, making the area less obvious at first glance. It created a small space, roughly the size of two adult individuals standing side by side, one arm extended, but it could not conceal anyone inside due to its shallow depth.

The thing about this held back wall is that it wasn’t bare – it was filled with many wall clocks.

Clocks of different sizes and shapes were placed very close together. It has gotten to the point where no one will notice the color of the wall behind them because of the sheer volume of clocks. Jaerim first assumed that the residents in this area were extremely time-conscious because they had so many wall clocks to keep track of the various time zones.

However, when he went over to stay for a minute, he was faced with a terrible predicament. The clock—none of its hands are correct at all! The clock was ticking on different scales; one was quick, the other was slow, and he could even hear one clock that was ticking at intervals. Just listening to it is enough to make someone uncomfortable.

It is also ticking counterclockwise!

He averted his gaze to search for something else. The longer he remained on that section of the wall, the more terrified he became. The random ticking of the clock made his scalp itchy, subconsciously making him want to pry the clock out from the wall and set them in synchronicity.

The second thing Jaerim noticed was their language. He stumbled into a lengthy bulletin board that had been clogged with colored papers, memos, advertising fliers, and pins. The words inscribed on it are all in a foreign language. Although Jaerim hadn't been to every country on Earth, anyone would have been able to tell that it was not a human language.

In addition, looking at it also made his eyes a bit spicy, as if reading it would burn his sight.

"Who's this handsome young man?"

Jaerim was startled as he heard a soft female voice cry out. He instinctively glanced around to see who was speaking and noticed one of the cubicle occupants.

She took a rapid march and barely stopped a few inches in front of Jaerim when she saw him noticing the call. Immediately, Jaerim took a step backwards, slamming his head against the wall. The female employee was not deterred and took another step to completely imprison him in the gap.

The woman's bravado took Jaerim by surprise. There's no denying that this woman is gorgeous, and she fits right in with Jaerim's ideal type.

The employee in question is a bright young lady with tawny skin and long, black, puffed-out curly hair. It's her almond eyes, suffused with blue tones, which stand out against the lengthy lashes she wears under her eyelids. Her brows are lifted in a beautiful arc, which complements her adorable button nose perfectly.

Aside from that, her clothing is also quite appealing. The red long-sleeved V-neck shirt and black pencil skirt, which accentuated her lush and plump physique, worked well together to bring forth her best features. Because of her tight shirt, Jaerim could even see the cleavage of her breasts, which were practically peeking out.

If not for the exaggerated smile where each tip of those red lips reaches the ends of her ears, she could really be considered... normal.

Jaerim was woken up by a scalding cold splash on his back. His skin crawled at the prospect of a smile that could expand as if breaking through the skin. The white teeth exposed fully with the pink gums gave off a sinister feeling, as if the person owning them would really dare to take a bite.

"What is your name?" She asked amorously, tracing Jaerim's chin with her red-painted long nails. "It's the first time I've ever seen you in this place. Are you a new employee?"

The fingertips were icy to the touch. Jaerim shivered and jerked his head to the side to show his disapproval. The female employee continued to chuckle monotonously while maintaining her exaggerated smile. Jaerim came to the conclusion that this woman was dangerous, and he set out to find a way out. But he's been driven into a corner and there's nothing he can do about it.

Finally, Jaerim took the decision to call it quits. His voice trembled slightly as he cried out Barron's name. He shifted his gaze to the back of the grim reaper, who appeared unconcerned about his condition. Silvester, like a busybody, looked over to see the sorry state of the Autumn.

"Don't tease him so much, Olivia. That guy was played by Trivett. Give him some space to rest," Barron's gentle voice said.

Olivia took one more look at Jaerim before taking a step back. Jaerim soared to freedom as if he had a fire on his butt. Walking near Barron was the only thing that made him feel at ease. Silvester noticed the young man return his gaze to Olivia, who had been monitoring them since they came.

She hadn't blink since then.

"Stop looking at her," Silvester said, pushing his eyeglasses up. "Unless you want to become stone, stop looking at her."

Jaerim instantly followed. He looked up at Silvester, and asked, "Why?"

"She is a gorgon. She will turn everyone who looks at her into stone."

Jaerim gasped audibly. "Will I... will I become a stone too?"

Silvester gave Jaerim a stern look. "Did you?"

"I didn't?" Jaerim wasn't so sure.

"Then, congratulations."

Barron heard the conversation of the youngsters and couldn't help but to chuckle. He entered a room encased in a glass wall with rough streaks of grey mosaic, so anything visible from both sides wouldn't be visible.

The double door opened itself, showing a rather simple set up of an open four-legged table, an office chair, and a wooden chair facing across. A vintage study lamp illuminated the center of the table, highlighting the piece of paper and pen resting on it.

It looked like those interrogation setups in police crime TV documentation.

Barron sat in the office chair. He gestured for Jaerim to sit on the wooden chair across. The youth looked around as he went towards the chair. He noticed that Silvester didn’t enter and closed the door, leaving them two behind.

"Let's go directly to business," Barron said, pushing the piece of paper towards Jaerim. "This paper holds the terms and conditions of the deal. The premise is that you work for us in exchange for living longer."

"What?"

Jaerim looked at the paper and frowned. There are a lot of words written on the paper, all written in small fonts. He raised his head to show his confusion.

"That is all? You're not going to explain it to me?" When it comes to dealing with a contract, it is necessary for both parties to discuss the terms. It is the basic understanding provided by the law.

"I really want to explain everything to you, ah. Provided that we have enough time to discuss it. But I'm afraid that before we can deal with the terms, you will be killed by the fate." Which means, they don't have the time to waste.

Jaerim doesn't have the time to waste.

"That's true," Jaerim nodded in approval. "But isn't that the basic etiquette? To explain the details of a contract towards the client... Don't you guys follow it?"

Barron looked at Jaerim weirdly. He raised one leg and folded above the other, both hands placed atop his knees, showing a relaxed posture. His golden eyes hovered over the figure before him, trying to understand his doubt.

Yet, when he thought he finally understood the person, Jaerim would show another unexpected trait.

"That's quite smart of you." Barron caught a tangle of hair on the side of his neck and started twirling it in his fingers, "It is indeed a necessary step to explain the details of the contract.

He had seen many people get tricked by not understanding a contract, which resulted in a lifelong regret. Though, it wasn’t because these people were stupid – they were simply desperate. In a moment where the relative mind reaches the peak of madness, it won’t work well how it was used before.

That’s why people often make mistakes.

"But are you not worried?" Barron asked. "You're about to die, you know?"

Jaerim made a cursory nod. "I am worried. Very."

"Then what's the matter? I thought you'd be the type to simply sign it."

"I am?" Jaerim shook his head. "Anything that needs a signature is a serious matter. Blindly signing any document without enough understanding is just courting death."

"That's a good motto. Seems important to you."

"It is, " Jaerim nodded seriously. "Just making sure I'm not selling my soul to the devil."

Barron blinked. "You've watched too much TV."

"But it's true, right? I just don't want to regret things at the end after knowing I sold my soul to the devil."

Barron scoffed. He used his leg to slightly tilt the chair around, as if playing, while pointing at the white paper on the table. There are many terms to explain and consider, but he summarized them in a few words.

"What you're signing is a contract to be a death cast."

"A death cast?"

Barron nodded. "It is a role that can be attributed to death. A cast – a character –, someone who is meant to die."

He pointed at Jaerim. "And you're going to play that."

"So the deal you're speaking of is something that will lead me to my death? Then what is the difference between dying from being an autumn and this death cast stuff?"

"To be an autumn means to die," Barron explained. "Being a death cast puts you in a situation where death is a possibility – a near hundred percent certainty."

A possibility? Jaerim thought of a strange system and said, "Which means not dying is also an option?"