The hall was so silent that one could hear the faint rustle of souls rubbing against each other, each sound like a blade slicing through mist. Ethan stood before the long table, its surface a jet-black stone slab, atop which lay a heavy parchment. In the dim light, the paper emitted a faint glow; the runes writhed as if alive, hungering to consume every fingertip that dared touch them.
Opposite him sat a figure in a black robe, half of a shattered mask revealing a pale, bloodless mouth. Its gaze was like an abyss, cold and merciless. The air was thick with a suffocating stench of decay, pressing down on Ethan's chest as if a heavy weight had settled there.
"Sign the contract."
The voice was dry and low, like a dead branch snapping in eternal silence, carrying an irresistible authority.
Ethan swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes at the parchment. The first line bore a name he knew well:
— Ethan Vale.
"Well, you guys in the Reaper realm are faster than any bank I've ever dealt with alive. Opening an account beats the real world by miles."
A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he tried to appear nonchalant, though the sweat in his palms betrayed him.
The black-robed figure showed no expression. From the void, it drew a quill, its tip dripping with ink as black as midnight. Each drop that hit the stone table hissed, curling smoke into the air like souls being burned alive.
"Sign the contract, or your soul will be claimed immediately."
The words were devoid of emotion, icy enough to suffocate.
Ethan muttered in his mind: "You're forcing me into servitude… Can I at least see the terms first? Work hours? Holidays? Is overtime double soul pay?"
The black-robed figure slowly raised a hand, and the contract suddenly pressed to the table as if alive. The runes glowed, flickering like crawling insects across its surface.
Suddenly, Ethan felt a sharp pain in his chest. A burning, blood-red thread extended from his heart, twisting through the air toward the contract, branding his name even more vividly, as if his soul were being locked into the parchment.
"Is… this automatic acceptance?!"
His voice trembled. The chest pain bent him over; he could barely breathe.
The figure pushed the quill toward him. The black ink swirled, containing countless twisted faces screaming from within.
"Just one stroke."
The voice echoed again, like it came from a deep abyss underground.
Ethan gritted his teeth, yet his fingers moved on their own to grasp the quill. He knew this was not him holding the pen—it was the pen controlling him.
The moment the tip touched the parchment, the ink exploded violently. Countless black lines crawled up his arm, climbing his shoulder, and finally stamped his heart like a grotesque seal. Waves of pain surged, nearly forcing him to his knees.
He gritted his teeth, forcing out a remark: "Damn… this signature experience is worse than a marriage certificate. Next time, can I just do e-sign?"
The black-robed figure slowly withdrew the parchment. Under the mask, the mouth seemed to curl into a faint smile, cold and enigmatic, like one admiring a struggling prey.
"The contract is sealed. You belong to the Nightmare Investigation Bureau until your soul dissolves."
The last word fell, and the seal on Ethan's chest flickered faintly, like a sleeping eye. Every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse within the eye, reminding him: escape is impossible.
He exhaled, spreading his hands. "Alright, if I'm a corporate drone now, I at least hope the Reaper realm's cafeteria is better than my old company."
The hall remained silent, only countless cold eyes slowly opening from the cracks in the walls, silently watching. The air seemed to freeze, time itself compressed under the darkness, as if the next moment would pull him into the abyss of the contract.
He took the first step. Each footfall echoed on the stone slabs, like treading on the shadow of his own heart, carrying the lingering warmth of blood and pain. The surrounding darkness writhed like a living thing, whispering ancient incantations. Ethan realized he had not just signed a contract—he had been irrevocably bound to an invisible world, a nightmare realm even the Reapers could not guarantee safety.