surpassing of any tales of horror whispered in the realm of the living. Here, I am Felix, a mere demon tasked with the grim duty of collecting souls, an obligation bestowed upon us by the Creator, a truth unbeknownst to the majority of mankind. To outsiders, the underworld may seem like a bustling urban city, with demons clocking in and out of their duties, returning to their dim cavernous abodes until summoned back to the surface—Earth. But returning isn't a homecoming to paradise; it's merely a return to the mundane existence we endure amidst humanity's realm, where time flows both swiftly and sluggishly, its essence as elusive as the shadows that envelop us. And so, here I awaken in my cavernous apartment, gazing out through stonemason-like windows at the infernal sky ablaze with hellfire, watching the ceaseless hustle and bustle of fellow demons below. The outcome of my day remains uncertain, for it has been three underworld weeks since my last journey to the surface, roughly equating to the human year of 1990. As I ponder the changes that may have unfolded in the topside world of 2024, I brace myself for whatever fate may have in store for me in the hours ahead.

 

In this realm of the underworld, the distinction between night and day isn't as stark as it is on Earth, where the sun and moon reign over the sky. Here, we abide by rules, a few of them serving as torn portals into realms and realms of existence, hovering above us like everyday stars. There's no pressing need for sustenance in this realm, but the pleasures of earthly cravings are readily available. Picture a craving for a double whopper with cheese; here, as a demon, such desires aren't denied. Yet, nothing quite compares to the experience of dining in a restaurant, savoring every delicate layer of a Chris sandwich, from the tomatoes to the bacon, with a smear of mayo. Take-out joints don't exist in the underworld's bustling cityscape; instead, one simply reaches into a dark crevice, conjuring culinary delights with magical workings beyond human comprehension.

 

So there I sat on my bed after indulging in such delights, pondering what tasks the operators would assign today. Yes, we have operators, akin to customer service for demons. I'd have to make my way down there, grab a ticket, and discover which unfortunate soul I'd have to employ my trickeries upon. But there are rules, sacred and unyielding, which I'll delve into later, lost in the pages of a tome akin to a death note, etched with warnings of fiery damnation.

 

Closing the door of my cavernous apartment, I locate the nearest window-like structure and leap out, forgoing the need for elevators in this realm. The thud of my landing disrupts the flow of fellow demons, who regard me with bemusement. Amidst the cacophony, a voice calls out, questioning my choice to forego the stairs

Dropping down to street level in the demon world, the eye caught the glance of a fellow demon nearby who spoke, his eyes scanning me with a mix of curiosity and disdain. It was a look that screamed, "Who do you think you are?" though no words were uttered. Ignoring the implicit challenge, I casually slipped my hands into the pockets of my long red jacket, a defiant splash of color amidst the sea of black attire preferred by most. You see, I had seniority here, tracing back to the very origins of our existence. I had earned the right to defy the norm, to stand out amongst the crowd.

 

Making my way through the bustling throng, I approached the office nestled within the heart of the underworld. You'd think obtaining a ticket would be as simple as conjuring it with a flick of the wrist, but navigating the bureaucracy of demonkind proved to be a task akin to visiting a particularly dysfunctional DMV. Finally, when my turn arrived—a designation of "Omega Alpha Omega anti-Christ-Tito," a title that spoke volumes about my status as the Antichrist of Korea, one of the few scattered across the globe—I couldn't help but smirk at the absurdity of it all.

 

The female demon behind the counter raised her hand, signaling my arrival, and produced a crimson ticket. While others received mundane black tickets, mine stood out like a beacon, a testament to my unique position in this infernal hierarchy. I accepted it with a smug satisfaction, not bothering to learn the name of the demon who had issued it.

 

Glancing down at my wrist, I observed a small fan clock whirling and spinning, its black hands ticking away the seconds. With a determined step towards the portal, I realized the call of my arrival was imminent. Ready or not, year 2024, here I come.

 

As I stood mere footsteps away from the whirling, spiraling portal, seemingly plucked from our crimson sky and momentarily suspended before me, the female demon's voice cut through the air. "Felix, make sure to check your handbook and read the rules," she called out, her tone dripping with an unnecessary reminder of protocol. As if I didn't know the rules. I had known them since the dawn of time itself. Who in their right mind would dare defy them? To be reduced to a pile of burning, stinking ash, only to suffer for eternity? It was a fate reserved for those foolish enough to stray from the path laid out by the Creator—a fate I had no intention of experiencing. No, I would never break the rules outlined in that damned book.

 

With a nonchalant gesture and a toss of my blonde hair, I stepped into the portal, embarking on a journey through the skies of eternity—a spectacle of light and exploration, akin to our demonic version of an elevator to the human world. Emerging on the other side, I found myself standing by a tranquil lake, surprising a homeless man nestled into a bench nearby. "Are you ready, world? I'm here," I declared, my voice echoing across the park.

The sight of the poor old fool, whom I initially mistook for a man due to the worn attire but turned out to be a woman, would become a recurring theme during my time in this human world. As she lay sprawled by the bench, a drunken slumber enveloping her, I couldn't help but be intrigued. "Well, well, what have we here? Why, hello, my dear," I mused aloud, knowing this encounter was bound to be interesting. With a grimace at her disheveled appearance and the pungent odor emanating from her, I couldn't resist a quip about her apparent disregard for personal hygiene. "Good Lord, when was the last time you bathed? There's a whole ecosystem growing over there," I remarked, my observation cutting through the thick haze of inebriation.

 

In that moment, I experienced an automatic upgrade of sorts—a sudden influx of knowledge about this strange new world. It seemed technology had advanced leaps and bounds, with the introduction of smartphones and smart devices saturating the landscape. My mind absorbed this information effortlessly, adapting to the nuances of the present with ease.

 

I couldn't help but wonder about that minor demon, Scoops, who had a penchant for trailing me like a persistent shadow. He dwelled in this earthly realm, inexplicably drawn to its ever-changing rhythm. Despite the rapid passage of time, he remained a faithful custodian of my assets, managing my affairs in this realm where my identity shifted like grains of sand in the wind. Sometimes I was the CEO of a company, other times the scion of a wealthy lineage, and occasionally, just a delicate young flower poised to inherit a fortune.

 

But Scoops had made a grievous error this time. As I confronted him about my newfound celebrity status online, I couldn't help but feel exasperated. "You blundering fool! I'm supposed to be anonymous and invisible, not the hottest bachelor on the bloody Internet!" I scolded him, shaking my head at his incompetence.

 

Glancing at the ancient timepiece adorning my wrist, its magical qualities apparent yet its appearance mundane, I pondered my next move. Retrieving my cellular device from my pocket—a veritable portal to the digital realm—I listened as Scoops briefed me on my return to the human world. "You've been masquerading as me for far too long," I informed him, before revealing the details of my lavish abode in a high-rise worth over $15,000,000. Such numbers meant little to me, for in this realm, wealth was merely a triviality, easily acquired with the snap of my fingers.

He delighted in regaling me with every mundane detail of my new life, as if the cost of the residence mattered more than its location. "Just tell me where I live, you idiot," I interjected, my patience wearing thin at his incessant chatter about trivialities. "Yes, yes, Master Felix," he replied earnestly, his tone reminiscent of Igor from the Frankenstein movies I had watched back in the nineties. Sniveling little buffoon Igor was, indeed.

 

"Your car awaits at the front of the park, Master Felix. You're in the middle of the park, if I may remind you," he continued, oblivious to my frustration. "You idiot," I muttered under my breath, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Kindly make your way to the park entrance, and your limousine will be waiting for you."

 

With a sigh, I once again slipped my hand into my pocket, bidding farewell to the drunken soul I had mistaken for a man. "I'll be seeing you," they muttered, disappearing into a makeshift shelter of cardboard and blankets, surrounded by remnants of food and drink. I raised two