Chapter Text
“Why do we even buy life insurance?”
People who prey on others’ fears just to sell things, and if you buy it but end up living happily without any life-changing incidents, that money is basically gone for nothing, our monthly salary is already barely enough to get by.
Isn’t it supposed to improve our quality of life? If buying it means you have to take on even more living expenses every month, then what’s the point?
▇▇▇▇ Life Insurance Co., Ltd. (PCL)
“Thanks for all your hard work today, everyone!”
The quarterly meeting came to an end, followed by cheerful applause, dedicated to Reigen Arataka, an outstanding employee who achieved the highest sales in the past three months
“I’ve got to thank everyone as well, seriously, thank you so much”
His arms were full of bouquets and a jumble of awards hanging off his title. He couldn’t forget to smile instinctively at the camera flashes before turning back to chat with a group of new hires gathered around, hoping to fish for sales tips from our young rising star.
“Look At You, Arataka! our favorite top seller!”
A random hand smacked down on his shoulder, almost sending him collapsing to the floor from how dead tired he was, only then did he catch, from the corner of his eye, his supervisor who had somehow snuck up beside him and slung an arm over his shoulder like they were best buddies.
“So, how many years till you burn yourself out?”
“-Come again? “
He heard the question, but his eyes drifted off into nothingness, suddenly everything around him went weirdly quiet, quiet enough that he could actually hear his own heartbeat.
“Alright, alright! Gossip time’s over, kiddos!”
Hey- what the hell!? I didn’t even answer yet! And what was that question supposed to mean, HUH, boss!? What kind of dogshit was that? I’m the top seller here, come back and finish that conversation!!! damn it !!
Chairs scraped across the floor as dozens of employees dragged themselves back to their desks, the worn wheels groaning against the dark carpet covering the office.
Once the employee pampering ceremony was over, everyone returned to their natural habitat: their desks, bathed in the glow of LED lights that ruined everyone’s eyes just as effectively as their monitors did.
Arataka’s desk wasn’t decorated much, especially compared to coworkers with similar years in the company,
a whiteboard for jotting down appointments, a bunch of nearly detached post-it notes his supervisor gave him back when he first joined the team, a water bottle for when his throat goes dry, and, most importantly, a small mirror to practice smiling. Because the first rule of telemarketing is to smile while talking to the customer. It makes your voice sound friendly, warm, trustworthy… or something like that. If he remembered correctly
Thick plastic dividers stood on either side of his desk, giving employees a kind of fake sense of privacy, not that it helped much, considering that our supervisor loved to walk behind people and peek at their screens. And come to think of it, those dividers didn’t block the noise from the neighboring desks at all.
Nine o’clock sharp was when the calling began. Sales reps slipped on their headsets and started dialing through the client lists assigned by the company.
They say this kind of job means selling your soul for numbers.
They say the brighter your flame, the faster you burn out.
“Good morning, may I speak with Yoshioka Mamoru - san?”
(I don’t even know what time I’ll wake up tomorrow. Nope. Not doing this.)
.
.
Beeep. Beeep. Beeep—
And so, Reigen was hung up on.
