A Black Blanket For A Frozen Salaryman

Suzuki blinked. His vision was a confusing swirl of white and blue; the metallic tang of blood had been replaced by the sharp, crisp scent of snow and pine. He was no longer lying on a sticky street; he was sprawled on something soft, powdery, and biting cold.

Over him loomed a figure dressed in thick furs, their face framed by a heavy parka.

"Is that a person from some other nation? Is he alive? Hey! Wake up!" the figure asked, their voice echoing strangely in the vast, silent landscape.

Suzuki slowly sat up, groaning. He looked around. Towering, snow-covered pine trees scraped a sky that seemed unnaturally clear. The air bit at his exposed skin, cold enough to instantly sober him up. He was in the middle of nowhere.

"W-where… where am I?" Suzuki managed to rasp.

"You are in the Amarok Winterlands," the figure—who looked like a gorgeous demi-human—said simply.

Suzuki shook his head, trying to clear the mental fog. His gaze fell upon a vehicle parked nearby. It was a rugged, mid-size, double-cab utility truck—the exact twin of the vehicle that had just ended his life. Except this one was gleaming black, utterly pristine, its white headlights glowing with an eerie, faint light.

Suddenly, a clear, synthesized female voice cut through the cold air from the truck's dashboard:

"Good morning, Suzuki. Your reincarnation package has been successfully delivered. Please rate your driver's performance on a scale of one to ten."

—It looks like I’m in the middle of some sort of Tundra?!?!? Don’t panic, Suzuki! Stay calm! Focus on the KPIs!—

“Where am I again?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“You’re in the Amarok Winterlands, the nation dominated by Lord Amarok,” the demi-human woman explained. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were sharp. “Looking at your expression, you seem... confused. And very afraid.”

“Confused? Me?!” Suzuki let out a high-pitched, hysterical laugh. “Nah! Not even a little bit! I’m just a... a normal traveler. Just passing through! Regional sales... exploration... that sort of thing!”

He tried to stand up with dignity, but his knees knocked together. He stood there, shivering violently in the sheer, soul-crushing cold, looking less like a traveler and more like a vibrating popsicle.

“Pfft! Ahahaha!” The demi-human woman burst out laughing, her giggles were practically glowing with amusement. “With that look on your face? For sure... you're a real 'pro' at this.”

She reached into a pack and pulled out a black blanket. It looked incredibly thick and soft, almost as deep a black as the truck idling behind them.

“Here, wear this,” she said, offering it to him with a playful smirk. “Before you vibrate yourself into the afterlife.”

Suzuki, shivering so hard he thought his teeth might shatter, snatched the blanket. “T-th-han-k yo-u…”

He wrapped the fabric around himself, and the relief was instant. It was heavy, ridiculously soft, and seemed to generate its own heat, covering his upper body until he looked like a very expensive black burrito.

“Since you... you clearly saved me,” Suzuki said, his teeth still clicking together but his professional politeness was finally kicking in. “Could you at least tell me your name?”

The demi-human woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she raised her arms and let out a long, languid stretch, her furs shifting as she let out a soft, teasing giggle. She looked back at him with a look of pure mischief—a smug, self-satisfied grin that said she was enjoying this way too much.

“Nuh-uh! I’m not telling you. Hehe!”

She popped a playful face at him and turned her gaze back toward the horizon, leaving Suzuki standing there, warm but completely ignored.