In the gleaming streets of what could only be described as a perfect paradise, a man sprinted at full speed. His white suit gleamed under the ethereal sunlight, a sharp contrast to the black hannya mask he wore—a symbol of a jealous female demon, something that seemed wildly out of place in the perfection of Heaven. He weaved effortlessly through the throngs of blissful souls enjoying their peaceful afterlife, grumbling under his breath.
"Ugh, that prick! Always sending me, and he can fly!" The hannya-masked man muttered in annoyance, his voice muffled by the mask. His left hand clutched a newspaper, and he shook it in frustration. "Just use a phone, you damn fossil," he cursed, dodging around more people as he sped through the streets.
As he took a sharp turn around the corner of a towering building, he collided with someone, the impact knocking them both to the ground with a heavy thud. "Oof!" he grunted, wincing as he hit the ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet, reaching out to apologize. "I'm sorry, I wasn't—"
He stopped mid-sentence when his eyes locked onto the person he'd bumped into. "Oh, it's just you," he muttered flatly.
The man he'd collided with wore an almost identical white suit but sported a Chinese lion mask instead of the hannya. The lion-masked man rubbed his head before glaring at the hannya-masked man through the ornate mask's narrow eye slits. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice gruff with irritation. "And where are you off to in such a hurry, Han?" He straightened his suit and looked the hannya-masked man up and down, clearly unimpressed.
Han waved him off, dusting himself off as he got back up. "Where do you think I'm going, Li?" he shot back. "To see the fossil of an Archangel who happens to be my boss."
The lion-masked man, Li crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Azrael's got you running around for him again, huh?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.
Han waved him off, slicking back his oily black hair with one hand. "You know it," he muttered, frustration lacing his words. "That fucking punk asshole thinks he's too good for modern technology. It's supposed to make our lives easier, for Christ's sake!" Han spat out every vulgar word that came to mind.
Li leaned in close, his voice dropping. "Ay, easy with mentions of the J-man, alright? Some of the angels don't appreciate that."
Han sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "I know that already, dude. I've been at this longer than you."
Li chuckled as he fell into step beside Han, both now walking at a more relaxed pace, Han's boss could wait. "Yeah, you've been at it longer than me… by a month, my guy." He slapped Han on the back playfully.
Han shot him a sideways glance. "Still longer than you, so show some respect, why don't ya?" He then smirked, adding, "And I work for the Archangel of Death, unlike you."
Li scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, nice flex bro. Working for the least respected Archangel. My old-age angel has more clout than your guy, and I don't work out of a shack."
Han rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. "It's an office building, not a shack."
Li raised both hands in mock surrender, a grin under his lion mask. "Whoa, my bad. Let me rephrase that. I don't work out of a crack den disguised as an office."
Han gave Li a swift smack on the back of the head. "It's just old and weathered, not a crack den, you dickhead."
Li adjusted his mask, chuckling. "Whatever you say, man. But let's be real, we both know who's enjoying the afterlife more up here."
Han shook his head, a scowl forming. "You aren't meant to enjoy it, dumbass. This is supposed to be our punishment."
Li shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Hey, I ain't saying it's the best, just saying I'm doing better than you, Mr. Over-a-Hundred-Kills." He threw in air quotes for emphasis.
"Don't call me that!" Han quickly shot back, groaning in exasperation. "It makes me sound like some mass-murdering lunatic."
Li snickered. "Aren't you, though?"
Han sighed. "I'm a contract killer, not just some maniac."
Li chuckled, shaking his head as he draped an arm around Han's shoulder. "Just 'cause you did it professionally doesn't make you any less of a psycho." He grinned, leaning in closer. "And let's be real, you don't regret it one bit. Plus, some of your kills weren't exactly… of age."
Han brushed his arm off, giving Li an irritated glance. "Dude, no matter the context, contract killer sounds better than mass murderer," he shot back, his voice low. A few pedestrians glanced their way, eyes narrowing at the odd exchange. Han ignored them and added with a pointed look, "And don't start lecturing me about killing kids, Mr. Serial Killer with fifty-seven victims, seven of those being kids. You're not any better than me."
Li's grin only widened. "Hey, you said it, not me. I never claimed to be better." A couple walking by quickened their pace, casting uncomfortable glances at the masked men as they passed. Li noticed but didn't care, still smug.
Han sighed, rolling his head as if to stretch out the annoyance. "Alright, I gotta get moving. You're already testing my patience, and I was saving that for my boss. So get out of here before I pop a cap in your ass," he threatened, his tone half-serious, though a faint smile tugged at the edge of his words.
Li raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back. "Fine, fine. I'm going. Good luck with the old fossil," he said, sounding surprisingly genuine.
Han nodded, adjusting his mask slightly. "Yeah, good luck to you too, I guess."
With that, the two separated, heading in opposite directions. Han picked up the pace, breaking into a jog once more. As he weaved through the throngs of people enjoying their afterlife, a few more souls gave him wide-eyed looks, some whispering to each other. Others scoffed or shook their heads, dismissing them as two eccentric souls from the darker corners of Heaven.
It wasn't long before Han reached the one-story office building nestled within the peaceful, human-paradise landscape. It stood out like a sore thumb, small and worn down compared to the bright and pristine surroundings. He paused at the door, inhaling sharply.
"Alright, time to deal with this," he muttered to himself, steeling his nerves before placing his hand on the handle and stepping inside.