Chapter 3: Welcome to Hell—It’s Just Like My Old Job, But Worse.

Part 1: No Breaks, No Benefits, and No Way Out

Aya Kurose, former corporate slave, now officially registered as Worker Ant #10284, had come to a horrifying realization:

She had been reincarnated into the most soul-crushing, unpaid, labor-intensive, no-promotion, no-benefits, no-resignation job imaginable.

Again.

If reincarnation was meant to be a fresh start, then fate had just spat in her face and kicked her down a flight of metaphorical stairs.

Her six legs moved automatically, her tiny black body scuttling through the dark, damp tunnels of the colony. The weight of her new existence pressed down on her, suffocating and merciless. Around her, thousands of worker ants moved with mechanical precision, each performing their assigned tasks without hesitation.

No weekends. No breaks. No chance to sleep in.

Just endless, grueling work.

WHY?! WHY DID I GET REBORN INTO ANOTHER SOUL-SUCKING JOB?!

Aya wanted to scream, but all that came out was a series of high-pitched chitters that went unnoticed in the endless drone of activity.

The irony was painful. She had spent her previous life slaving away in a corporate jungle, only to die and wake up in an actual jungle—as an insect. The only difference? At least in her old job, there was a break room. Here, the closest thing to a break was dying from exhaustion.

And worst of all?

She couldn't even complain about it.

Part 2: The Office Job Was Better Than This?!

Aya had barely been born—or hatched, technically—for more than a few minutes before she was thrown straight into the workforce.

And by "training," she meant:

Get in line. Follow the older worker ants. Do exactly what they do. Shut up and work.

No explanations. No warm welcome. Just immediate, mind-numbing labor.

The older workers wasted no time shoving her along with the rest of her newly hatched siblings, their antennae flicking in what could only be interpreted as strict pheromone commands:

"Move."

"Work."

"Don't fall behind."

Aya stumbled forward, barely keeping up with the swarm. Her legs wobbled under her as she struggled to coordinate them. Six legs were way too many. How the hell was she supposed to control them all at once?!

Then, she entered the central chamber.

Her tiny mandibles nearly dropped open in horror.

The ground wasn't moving. No—it was a sea of ants. Thousands of workers scuttling in every direction, soldiers patrolling the tunnels, nurses tending to eggs, foragers hauling food, all moving in perfect synchronization.

It was a living, breathing corporate machine.

She had thought her old office was bad, but this? This was an industrialized nightmare. At least back then, she had the illusion of individualism. Here? She was literally just another worker among thousands.

If she had hands, she would've thrown them up in despair.

This is worse than an office job. At least back then, I had a cubicle.

She wanted to quit. But quitting wasn't an option.

There were no exit doors. No managers to negotiate with. No disgruntled resignation letters to slap on someone's desk. There was only one rule in this hellhole:

Work. Or die.

Part 3: Basic Training—Or, How to Break a New Employee Immediately

Aya barely had time to process her existential crisis before one of the older workers grabbed her and dragged her into training.

Her first task?

Carrying food.

Simple, right? A basic job for a basic worker.

Except for one tiny problem.

ANTS CAN LIFT THINGS TEN TIMES THEIR BODY WEIGHT.

Aya, who had been a weak human in her past life, was not ready for this level of physical labor.

Her first test involved carrying a dead beetle leg.

A massive beetle leg.

The moment she tried to lift it onto her back, her wobbly legs buckled beneath the sheer weight. She trembled, mandibles clenched, straining against the impossible task. Every muscle in her tiny exoskeleton screamed in protest.

Then, after three agonizing steps—

FLIP.

She tipped over like a helpless, upside-down turtle.

She flailed her legs desperately in the air. Her siblings marched past her without even sparing a glance.

The senior worker overseeing her training flicked its antennae at her, and though ants technically had no expressions, she felt the disappointment radiating from it.

Aya could practically hear its unspoken words:

"Pathetic."

She wanted to cry.

But guess what? ANTS DON'T HAVE TEAR DUCTS.

Part 4: Smell-Based Communication Is a Nightmare

As if the physical labor wasn't bad enough, Aya soon realized something even worse:

She couldn't speak.

No words. No sighs. No grumbling under her breath.

Just pheromones.

And let her tell you—IT SUCKED.

Back in her old life, she could at least complain to coworkers. Sarcastically text her friends. Passive-aggressively sigh during meetings.

Here? The moment she panicked, her body automatically released distress pheromones.

Which, unfortunately, summoned an entire squad of soldier ants.

Within seconds, a horde of battle-hardened warriors rushed toward her.

"WHERE IS THE ENEMY?!"

"IS THE COLONY UNDER ATTACK?!"

"DO WE NEED TO KILL?!"

Aya, who had merely been struggling with a bread crumb, stood there, completely frozen.

She tried to wave them off, but oops—ANTS DON'T HAVE HANDS.

She just stood there, awkwardly twitching her antennae.

The soldiers stared at her. Then, they slowly turned and marched away in absolute silence.

Aya wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

She had been reborn for less than a day, and she had already become the village idiot.

Part 5: The Final Realization—This Is Her Life Now

After a full day of humiliation, hard labor, and the soul-crushing reality that she was now a literal ant, Aya finally reached a conclusion.

She was never getting out of this.

No promotions. No quitting. No escape.

Only endless work.

As she dragged her exhausted body to a quiet corner of the tunnels, she let out a tiny, pitiful chitter.

This is hell.

No. This is worse than hell.

Because at least hell had fire and demons.

Here? She was just another nameless worker in a colony of thousands.

As she curled up, preparing for another agonizing day, one last bitter thought echoed in her mind:

"Screw reincarnation. I WANT A REFUND."