Chapter 1 : Damn this company
Quota 0/130 - Only 2 days left
5:00 PM
Victor had arrived in front of a house with a lodge, the same one as the day before.
He didn't want to come back here after yesterday's fiasco, but he had to.
He had to if he wanted to become rich.
Having made up his mind, Victor slipped into the house through the front door.
He had left it open yesterday and would leave it open until he departed.
The entrance hall was like those of wealthy homes: an immaculate white shining gently under the lamps' light, a cupboard filled with dusty coats, and a tall mirror reflecting guests without ever revealing their true colors.
And it also reflected uninvited visitors like Victor.
With his poor broke clothes, worn and stained in places, his shoes bought from the swindler near his place, already holed even though he had bought them last week, and his face so full of dark circles that one might wonder how he still managed to stand.
Well, maybe he would have been handsome if he hadn't been so poor.
With his pale complexion, jet-black eyes that seemed to read souls, and his messy black hair giving him a brooding and mysterious look.
But for now, he looked more like a corpse than a darkly handsome model.
He had already searched the living rooms yesterday without finding anything interesting, so he went upstairs.
He found a bedroom of no importance and a room that would probably ruin his day.
"Damn this art collector," Victor muttered upon seeing the state of the room.
The floor was messed by wooden chests marked with the initials of the worthless statues they contained.
And that was precisely Victor's problem.
No value.
Or at least, no value to the company.
He had tried yesterday to submit one, but the lady at the front desk had kindly but firmly sent him back to this rotten house over 30 minutes from his place.
And of course, the company wouldn't pay for his gas.
Damn this company.
But he had learned his lesson: he wouldn't tire himself to death today to bring back just one statue.
He would only take small objects to at least have one of value and not get embarrassed like yesterday.
'Alright, time to get to work!' he thought to cheer himself up.
He began opening the smaller chests.
There were sculpted heads, feet, hands, and busts.
But Victor had trouble deciding. Yesterday's whole statue had brought him nothing.
He kept on searching.
After nearly an hour, he finally found something other than those statue pieces.
In a chest buried under its fellows laid a perfectly preserved bronze vase.
Victor picked it up with a smile on his lips.
"This has got to be worth at least 130, right?" he thought aloud.
He carefully placed the vase in his backpack before checking the time.
6:00 PM
He would soon have to leave to be on time for the first service.
Victor took one last look at the back of the room.
In the shadows lay a wooden chest over two meters tall that Victor opened with curiosity.
He slowly opened it from the top only to be disappointed.
'No way I'm bringing this back,' he thought.
He had come face to face with a statue's head.
Art modern enthusiasts would no doubt love the statue, with its creepy human head, white torso dotted with nails, and its huge spring serving as a neck, but it wouldn't fit in his car.
He had struggled yesterday with a statue of one and a half meters, so over two meters was definitely out of reach.
Especially since he had to leave.
He closed the chest before leaving the room, bag in hand.
After closing the door, he went downstairs.
Passing through the kitchen to leave, he grabbed whatever he could, thinking:
'Might have value.'
He exited through the front door before turning to face the house.
While it had the air of a wealthy house, Victor was leaving with only a bronze vase and some kitchen utensils.
His only thought as he passed through the gate in his washed-out car was:
'Let's just hope that the next house will be better.'
But if Victor had known that he'd have to come back here tomorrow, without the company paying for his gas, he would have undoubtedly muttered:
"Damn this company."