Chapter 8: Who’s that guy?

Chapter 8: Who’s that guy? Stephan stepped off the crowded bus into the pale morning sunlight. He wore a black shirt, black trousers, and scuffed black shoes. He looked like he was on his way to a funeral.In a way, he was. It was Monday. Time for work. The weekend had been insane. No one would believe him if he told them the truth, and there was no one to tell anyway. He was as alone now as he’d ever been. He had died on Friday. And been reborn on Saturday with a system that let him reap the souls of the dead. He had fought two Soul Eaters in the dark guts of the city. Killed one and consumed it. He still felt its memories crawl through him like worms. Sunday hadn’t been as dramatic. The system had issued simple tasks. He had to run 20 kilometers and do 200 pushups in a single set. In his past life, he could barely run a block without gasping like an old man. Now he cruised through them. Sweating, sure but unstoppable. After meeting Lucidas, nothing surprised him anymore. Still... as he approached the glass entrance of the ugly, gray office building, something in his gut twisted. It was Monday. And Monday meant bosses. It meant bills and it meant the promise his supervisor had made last week, just before Stephan died for the first time. "One more mistake, and you’re fired." Stephan adjusted his collar, cracked his knuckles, and walked through the front doors. As usual, Becky, the receptionist, was already at her post, a doughnut in one hand, a giant cup of coffee in the other. She barely looked up, more focused on licking glaze off her thumb than noticing who had just stepped into the building. "Good morning, sir. How can I help you?" she asked through a half-chewed bite, not sparing him a glance. Stephan didn’t bother smiling. His voice was low, composed. "Can I sign the register?" That got her attention. She blinked at him, brows furrowed. "Uh... sorry? Only employees can sign in." "I work here," he replied, pulling out his employee ID. Becky took it with clear reluctance, squinting as she read the name. "Stephen King..." She froze. Then slowly, her wide eyes crept up from the ID to his face.It was him. Only... it wasn’t. Gone was the pale, slouched figure of the guy they’d called ’office furniture.’ Standing in front of her now was a tall, sharp-jawed man with lean muscle, dark eyes that practically glowed with confidence, and a cold presence that made the air feel a little too quiet. Her mouth hung open. The coffee in her hand tipped sideways and spilled onto the desk. She didn’t even notice. "The register," Stephan said, voice deeper now, not a request, but an order. Becky blinked out of her trance and shoved it toward him with a shaky hand. He signed it swiftly, then turned and walked off, his footsteps quiet but heavy with purpose. Becky stared after him, still frozen. What the actual fuck. Had he hit the gym with God himself over the weekend? There was no way that was just a glow-up. That was a transformation. She watched him disappear into the Design department, then slowly turned back to her coffee-soaked desk. "...What the fuck happened to him?" Stephan slid into his desk chair and powered on the computer, settling in with his arms casually folded behind his head. At first, no one batted an eye. But then the murmurs began. "Who’s that guy?" a girl whispered across the room. He recognized the voice instantly. He’d known every voice in this office, every perfume, every coffee order, every sigh of frustration, before he died in that tunnel. That was Eva speaking, dark-skinned, dazzling smile, always quick to talk. "He looks like Stephan to me," Yennefer said. "I thought so too... but no way," Eva replied, disbelief thick in her voice. Stephan lifted his head and cast a brief glance in their direction, they looked away just as quickly, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. "So, I’m trending now, huh?" he thought with a wry smile. "Finally, the chameleon’s stepped out of the background." Eyes were beginning to lock onto him from every direction. Some assumed he was new. A fresh recruit. Someone important. Someone else. "Maybe that King dude really did get fired this time," Gerald muttered from a few desks away. "I was sick of fixing his half-baked designs anyway." Stephan almost laughed aloud."Yeah, he got fired alright... from life. Reincarnated as a soul-devouring god of death. Show some respect." Then she entered. Anna Mary. The undisputed goddess of the office. He caught her scent first,lavender and danger. She didn’t say a word as she walked past, hips moving like they were on a red carpet, wrapped tight in a form-fitting black dress. She didn’t glance at him or pause. She just sat down at her usual desk, right in front of him. He didn’t look up. Not yet. His old self would’ve stared like a lost puppy.But not this Stephan. He wasn’t that kind of guy anymore. The whispers didn’t stop all morning. Side glances kept darting toward his desk like moths to a strange new flame. By now, the whole office had pretty much accepted it: That was Stephan King. But... how? Even Anna Mary had begun to notice the unusual attention, attention that was supposed to orbit her. The glances weren’t meant for her today.They were passing through her, landing squarely on the man seated just behind. Curious, and slightly irritated, she finally swiveled in her chair and peeked over the top of his monitor. A glimpse was all it took. Her brows furrowed. Then, lips parting slightly, she stood and strutted over. Stephan sensed her approaching before she even said a word. Her perfume arrived a second before she did, sweet, musky, and dangerous. He looked up. There she was, looming over his desk, her ice-blue eyes gleaming with intrigue. Her curves were impossible to ignore, her full breasts practically greeting him with their own silent hello. Then her red lips curled into a flirtatious smile. "So, you’re the new guy causing all this noise." Stephan shifted in his chair, one brow cocked."New guy?" he asked, voice steady. "Mmhmm," she hummed. He pointed a casual finger toward his own chest. "Me?" "Yes, you," she replied, her tone teasing but laced with confusion. He let the moment hang, then said, "I’ve worked here for two and a half years." Anna Mary scoffed. "Don’t mess with me. I’d remember someone like you." "His name’s Stephan King," Gerald chimed in, barely looking up from his desk. Anna’s smirk faltered.She looked like she’d been slapped.She blinked once. Twice. Then took a long, hard look. Recognition finally dawned. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her eyes flicked over every detail, his jawline, his posture, his confidence. This was Stephan? The awkward, forgettable guy who barely spoke and always kept his head down? Her cheeks flushed. What the actual fuck. Before she could respond, the HR manager stormed into the office. "New project for King!" she shouted, waving a file high as she marched toward Stephan’s desk. Then she stopped. Her brows drew together. "Wait... where’s King?" "That’s him," someone muttered. She looked at Stephan.Really looked. The confidence,piercing eyes and the aura. Something primal stirred in her chest. For a brief moment, the old power dynamic reversed entirely. "You’re... Stephan?" she asked slowly. He held her gaze, unflinching with no apology. No nervous fidgeting. Just calm, unreadable stillness. She faltered. Took a step back. In his past life, she’d been the one who towered over him, made him feel small, lesser. But now she hesitated, the Stephan in front of her was different. She dropped the file on his desk like it was on fire and walked away quickly, almost at a jog. Everyone in the office saw it.A quiet power had shifted. A new center of gravity had formed,and it wasn’t Anna or the HR anymore. When Stephan glanced around, eyes quickly darted away. The air was thick with unspoken awe and discomfort.He was the one creating tension now. He was the one they couldn’t stop watching. He allowed himself a small, private smirk. Lucidas hadn’t just given him life. He’d given him dominion. Stephan flipped open the file. For the first time in two and a half years, the work didn’t feel like a sentence. It felt like purpose. Stephan was almost done with the design when something shifted.It wasn’t the room temperature.Not the murmurs of conversation or the overused perfumes or stale coffee in the air. It was Soul Energy. Faint, but undeniable like a static charge crawling across his skin. The kind of hum you don’t hear but feel.His fingers froze above the keyboard and his eyes narrowed. Something, or someone, in the room was leaking Soul Energy.