19 - Jessica Needs a Favor

Everyone looks to the door.

Jessica doesn't come visit us very often.

Actually, I don't think she's come here at all. Not since that first time she showed the room to Alex and me.

"Odd-kun," she repeats, "I'd like to talk to you, when you get a moment …"

The other members of O.P.P.A.I. start to 'Ooooh' loudly, the way we used to whenever a kid was called to the principal's office.

I scratch the back of my head. "Well, I'd love to, Jessica, but I promised the kid I was going to help her tape a drawing to the wall. So I'm kinda booked solid for the rest of the day … And maybe tomorrow as well. Kinda depends on how it goes with the tape."

Jessica, without saying anything, reaches behind her and tosses me a fresh roll of clear tape. Sasuga Central Administrator.

I hand the tape to Moeka. "Here you go. Valerie-nee will help you, alright?"

She nods excitedly, and runs off.

"So … What's up, doc?" I ask Jessica.

She smiles weakly. "I have a bit of a favor to ask you."

*

I follow Jessica through the L.I.M.B.O. building.

I can't help but notice her suit is all crumpled, like she hasn't ironed it in a long time. And her trademark ponytail just doesn't have the same … bounce that it used to have. A-and—is that a grey hair I see??

"Hey, Jessica, maybe you should, um … Take a break? What kind of vacation do they give you in Point Parallax anyway? My old company, they gave us … Well, technically we got unlimited days. The catch was, it was almost impossible to get time-off approved when you wanted to. So in practice I went years without time off. But I … I, uh …" I trail off, as she's not really listening to me anyway. She's totally distracted, chewing her bottom lip, deep in thought.

She notices me staring at her. "Ara … I apologize, Odd-kun, could you repeat that?"

I shake my head. "Eh … Never mind. It's not important."

Eventually we reach a door I've never seen before. (There are many such doors in Point Parallax.)

She opens it, and nods at me to go in.

I walk in.

It's a small, low-lit, wood-paneled den, with nothing but a small poker table inside. Above it, there's a stuffed swordfish hanging on the wall.

"Oh, no—"

Jessica shoots me in the face from behind.

*

When I come to, I find myself suspended high above the ground.

I'm hanging from the ceiling, a rope harness strapped around me.

I'm not alone. Jessica is there too, dangling right alongside me.

"What the fuck was that!?" I demand.

Jessica immediately brings a finger to her lips. "… Not so loud," she whispers.

I repeat, in a low hiss this time, but no less outraged, "… What the fuck was that!?"

"U-fu-fu. It's easier to just kill you than set up all this rope stuff."

"Was that a motherfucking G**dfell*s reference!? Revenge for B*lly B*tts!? He was a made man and I wasn't!? The club members just had to sit there and take it!? GET YOUR FUCKIN' SHINE BOX!?!??!!?"

"U-fu-fu. It's my favorite movie."

I look down. Looks like one of the bureaucratic workplaces in L.I.M.B.O.—where all the behind-the-scenes paperwork stuff takes place, I guess.

I see working directly below us—a … foxgirl? Dressed in business-wear that looks similar to Jessica's.

"So … What are we doing now?" I ask. "What is this, M*ss*on Imp*ssible? Are we T*m Cru*se right now?"

"Hu-fu-fu. That's my second favorite movie."

"You know, it's funny, I just saw it for the first time ever, a couple weeks before I died? I was surprised at how good it was! It really holds up!" I materialize a red baseball cap and wear it backwards, and start swinging an invisible chainsaw around. "… I'LL SKIN YOUR ASS RAW!"

Jessica smiles. "That's the wrong L*mp B*zkit song. And that was for the sequel."

(Oh, shit, I actually got a tsukkomi out of her. Two, in fact. Note to self: More 2000s nu-metal motion picture soundtracks—that might be the key.)

"Eh … So what's your third favorite movie?"

"Hu-fu-fu." She looks at me, a strange bloodlust in her eyes, and says, simply, "Hum*n Centip*de. … 2."

Alright, kinda wish I hadn't asked. "No, really, Jessica—what are we doing?"

She nods down below. "That foxgirl … She's a new hire."

"Okay?"

"She's not very good at her job."

As soon as Jessica says this, I see what she means.

The foxgirl below us trips, scattering the papers she was carrying everywhere. As she kneels down to gather them up, she bumps her head on the table, spilling a cup of coffee perched precariously on the corner. It falls to the floor, ruining all the paperwork she was trying to gather up.

"… She's very clumsy. In fact, she"—Jessica sighs heavily—"she's probably quadrupled our existing workload, just from us having to fix her constant mistakes. Protags making it into the wrong world. Mixups with different protagonists. Lost paperwork. Papers filed incorrectly. We end up having to redo a lot of work."

"Wait, isn't the L.I.M.B.O. workforce mainly just goddesses? Since when did you start hiring fictional characters to work for you?"

Jessica shrugs. "We need all the help we can get, these days. (And she was really eager to do paperwork, for whatever reason. … Unusually eager.)"

"… The isekai-industrial complex. The fad that just won't die."

"As Central Administrator of L.I.M.B.O., I cannot condone that statement. … Anyway, Odd-kun, this is where I need your help."

"Eh … Okay?"

"Your club … There's probably a lot of overhead with running such a busy club, no? I imagine you're swamped with all the work you have to do these days." Her face starts twitching weirdly, but then I realize she's just trying to wink at me. "Maybe the best thing you need right now is some kind of secretary, Odd-kun. A bookkeeper. Someone to take care of all the tedious work you don't wanna do."

"Why do I get the feeling you're just trying to just pawn her off on me?"

"Please! I'm just trying to make sure my favorite protag in all of Point Parallax gets the help he needs!"

"Jessica, I literally try to make your life as miserable as possible."

She starts chuckling, a light PTSD edge to it, "You don't even make the leaderboards in that regard," as she looks at the foxgirl below.

"Alright, so … What do I have to do, then?"

"Nothing. I'll send her over to your club room later."

I shrug. More the merrier, I guess.

Eventually the foxgirl goes out for a toilet break, which means it's safe for us to leave.

"But, uh … How do we get down from here?"

Jessica looks at me, one eyebrow raised, a You-Already-Know kind of expression.

She takes out a comically large pair of scissors from somewhere in her blazer, and cuts my rope.

I fall down to the ground, screaming.

*

Later that afternoon, a few hours later, back at the club room, we hear a knock at the entrance.

Standing in the open doorway is the clumsy foxgirl, smiling nervously. Her ears twitch, her tail sways back and forth. "Um … Hi there. Ms Jessica sent me? She said you needed help with your club activities?"

We look up from whatever we're doing.

"M-my name is Advent …" She bows deeply. "Pleased to meet you!"

The sudden swiftness with which she bows, I guess due to nerves, just happens to align with some kind of mystical wind-bending technique—or something, because I don't think she's actually a kung-fu master, I genuinely think she manages to do this by sheer luck—and the air pressure from her bow causes all of us to lose our balances.

The following happens:

Alex crashes into the CRT, knocking it to the ground, his retro consoles being destroyed in the process.

Valerie is sent hurtling into the wall, knocking a piece of drywall loose, her secret stash of ero doujins and stolen socks revealed.

Moeka tries to grab something for stability, and accidentally tears her own drawing off the wall, ripping it in half.

Sunny crashes into the window, breaks it, and flies out onto the pavement below.

For once, I'm the only one left unharmed.

… Or so I think, as the chandelier directly me above me is knocked loose, and crashes down on my head. (When the fuck did we get that installed!?)

Advent stands up straight from her bow. "Oh no! I-I'm so sorry!" Tears forming in her eyes. "I'll fix it! I'll fix it right away!"

I try to look up from the ground, but I think I'm concussed pretty badly.

"W-Welcome … to the club, A-Advent …" I manage, before I pass out.