Clay, an ex-prisoner now-changed man after being in jail for 3 years, is shockingly appointed by Yagoo as Mori Calliope's personal assistant for the time being after 4 months of splendid work at Cover Corp.
Death's apprentice seems to be overworkin...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
"Right this way, Mr. Johnson."
His voice was crystal clear, reverberating throughout the room. I've heard voices my entire life behind bars that exceeded beyond masculinity. They were that intimidating but this person before me was a different animal.
The sight of the back of his suit scorned those who lazed around in their beds watching videos all day. His strides were immaculate as if walking was a highlight.
He motioned for me to take a seat just right across his desk. The four-walled room delivered a strong impression. Vibrant colors like orange, blue, and yellow decorated the wood panels, a funky smell erupted out of them every time I breathed. The lights above us were chauvinists, the only purpose perceived as illumination.
I've been working in Cover Corporation for well over four months but seeing the boss in-person was a rare thing to witness. The members and our superiors would go out for drinks but I'd never made the effort to communicate to the boss because I felt I didn't deserve to. There was nothing to say. I worked for someone in a different branch and fulfilled the duties given to me.
Now, the boss called for me in his office.
The man in front of me connected his fingers together as he sat on his office chair, his elbows settling themselves on his table. A smile I interpreted as wise and calm appeared on his face.
I can safely say, after working for four months in this business, I was back in society. A society that could either use or toss me away.
"For formalities, good morning! I'm Yagoo. The CEO of Cover Corporation. I believe this is the first time we've ever had a one-on-one meeting."
It's crazy to think I'm being pressured by a man shorter than me. I trained like hell in a place that cried for heaven, built my weak-ass body into one I can respect. It was a struggle to even wake up and encounter the same faces threatening your manhood for sport. Not all prisoners forfeited their lives the moment they entered prison. Some were curious, even savored what it was like to have everything taken away from you. Others in the darkest corners wept and told themselves their arrogance was the root of all mistakes.
Near those stone-cold gates, you devolve, return back to being a child and whisked away to a land where no one loved you. Prison might've been a beginning but it was never the end.
