Rex Mortal slumped at his desk, the glow of his monitor burning his eyes. Another late night, another pile of Lisa Rox's Excel disasters. He'd just saved the last file when his intercom buzzed.
"Rex, my cabin. Now." Lisa's voice, sharp and bored, crackled through. Just heard her voice and He started having a bad feeling.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Lisa Rox—25, nepo kid supreme, and his personal nightmare. Her family's name was plastered on the company logo, which explained why she was his boss despite not knowing a spreadsheet from a napkin. For weeks, her "urgent" data tasks had kept him chained to his desk past midnight. He'd reported it to HR, but surprise—nothing.
Dragging himself to her cabin, Rex knocked.
"Come in," Lisa drawled, not looking up from her smartphone. Her desk was a shrine to luxury: designer pens, a gold-plated coffee mug, and zero work. "Hey, input this data before you leave." She slid a pen drive across the desk. "It's an Excel file, right? Just… do the row thingy and the math stuff."
"But—" Rex's forehead creased as he was about to speak, but Lisa raised a finger to silence him.
"I'm busy," Lisa said, making a dismissive shooing gesture with her hand.
'She's clearly just wasting time. What a bitch! ' Rex can never say this to her face, but one day he will definitely teach her lesson!thought as he walked out of her cabin with the pen drive in hand. He really wanted to quit his job, but nowadays getting a new one had become increasingly difficult, and inflation was rising continuously.
After finishing the work, he noticed that everyone else had already gone home. Looking at the clock, he saw it was 1 a.m. He packed his things and began the long walk to his apartment, which was an hour away on foot. At this time of night, there were no buses or ride-share cars available. His company was located in a remote area, far from the city, so walking was his only option.
Rex trudged out of the building, the weight of Lisa's tasks lingering like a bad headache. The empty road stretched ahead, lit only by the moon.
'Well, I've already done it three times. At least it helps maintain my body' he thought, trying to stay positive as he glanced down at his growing belly—evidence of his unhealthy routine.
"Sigh…" Rex muttered, and began his walk home.
On his way home, Rex enjoyed the cool night breeze under the full moon. The road was bathed in soft moonlight, relaxing his muscles as he took deep breaths of the fresh air. He was counting his steps, letting his mind drift.
'At least the air is fresh here. That's the only plus point of this black company' Rex thought.
After 40 minutes, he was drenched in sweat, and his legs were sore. Bright headlights shone on him as he reached the main road. Trucks and big four-wheelers, still active at this hour, rumbled past while Rex kept to the sidewalk. He had finally reached near the city limits, nearing to his apartment.
Rex trudged along the moonlit road, his legs aching from the hour-long walk. The city lights flickered in the distance, so close yet so far. A faint bark made him freeze. Up ahead, shadows moved—stray dogs, lounging by the street. His stomach dropped. Last summer, one had sunk its teeth into his ankle, leaving a scar and a grudge. "Not tonight," he muttered, quickening his pace.
The dogs' ears perked up. Their tails wagged, but Rex wasn't fooled. He bolted, his sore legs screaming in protest. The dogs barked and gave chase, their paws pounding the pavement. Sweat stung his eyes as he pushed harder, heart racing.
'Just some more distance!' he thought, imagining his tiny apartment, his one safe haven.
Then his foot slipped. Something soft and slick sent him tumbling. His head cracked against the pavement with a sickening thud. Pain exploded, and his vision blurred. Lying on his back, Rex groaned, the dogs' barks fading into the distance. He'd outrun them… but at what cost?
"by slipping on a banan—" Rex started to say, glancing at what he had slipped on.
"…"
There was no banana peel.
Just a brown smear stuck to the ground.
Yes.
He had died by slipping on dog shit.
"What a life…" Rex said, as his vision was covered in red and he could hear the sound of his heart slowly dying down. His body was gradually turning cold. Before dying, his life was flashing before his eyes at a very fast pace.
Rex Mortal, 27 years old, is an overworked and unwanted—especially by ladies, with a below-average face—so you could say he has zero romance in his life. And it doesn't help that he's an orphan on top of that. So forget about an arranged marriage. Women usually choose between two types of men. The first—and preferred—are the ones with money; at that point, looks don't matter. The second type? Exactly what you're thinking—the handsome ones.
But for Rex, it didn't matter if he remained a single dog for life. What truly mattered was... he forgot to delete his browser history!
Rex's eyes flared open at the thought. "Oh shit!!"
That was his last thought before he slipped into darkness with his eyes staring at brownie.
"..."
***
He opened his eyes again.
Blinding white light greeted him. A beeping sound echoed nearby. The smell of disinfectant hit his nose.
'What the… a hospital?'
He tried to sit up, but something felt off. His body was… different. Lighter. Younger?
Then he heard it.
[AN :
dialogs will be in -" "
Though or thinking in italic-'thinking'
]