After putting on the clothes the girl felt a little warmer, and a little stronger. She flexed her fingers, then looked up at the two young men in front of her.
"Congratulations, Miss! You're one lucky soul!"
Caelus took her hand.
"Lucky?"
The girl looked thoroughly puzzled.
"What do you mean, lucky? Where am I? I…"
"That's right—you're lucky, because next I'm going to work you like an ox and a horse!"
"Ox and horse…?"
"Exactly! You'll get the same treatment as Dan Heng here. I'll squeeze out every last drop of your surplus value until you're screaming in agony under my exploitation!"
Agony—so painful you want to die?
Dan Heng:?
I'm an ox and horse?
Ox and horse? Me?
"Haha, I'm going to enslave you two—hard!"
"H-how are you going to enslave us?"
"You'll toil for me a full three system hours a day! I'll only feed you three meals, limited fruit and snacks; milk only at breakfast! One hour for lunch break! Bonuses just three times a year! Haha, you'll drop dead from exhaustion!"
Dan Heng:?
He seems to think he's cruel.
"R-really?"
Still a bit dazed, the girl felt that three system hours—six Earth hours—didn't sound tiring at all. If anything… it sounded easy.
"You think that's it? Naïve! What comes next is my hellish torture! First, you'll get paid annual leave! During which you'll have nothing to do, wallowing in the misery of wasted time!"
The girl blinked, trying to process.
"P-paid annual leave? Nothing to do… wasting time?"
"A-anything worse?" she whispered, more curious than afraid.
"Of course!" Caelus swept an arm grandly. "Your quarters—private cabins! Personal space! After a grueling day you'll face cold walls alone, enduring endless solitude!"
She glanced at the simple but private cabin, then back at him.
Seeing her blank stare and Dan Heng's "is this boss nuts?" look, Caelus stayed deadpan—he even felt like laughing.
Yes, keep the act: a seemingly ruthless but absurdly generous "black-heart boss," perfectly hiding his real motives and tiny guilty conscience.
"Uh… thanks?" the girl ventured, voice uncertain, head tilted. "A-anything else? Like food limits—only one dry bread a day?"
"Of course not!" He planted hands on hips. "Food is another hellish torment! Daily menus change—from ramen to sizzling grilled meat to sickeningly sweet cake! You'll be forced to taste delicacies from different planets until your taste buds go numb and you can't enjoy simple food anymore!"
"Wow, scary!" Her eyes sparkled; she licked her lips. "C-can I taste that sickeningly sweet cake first? I want a preview of the torture."
"Nope. Only at mealtimes; otherwise just snacks and juice." He ended the one-sided "intimidation." "You now know your cruel fate! Name, future top-class ox-and-horse! We need it for the records."
She tried to think. A name… she should have one, but her mind was blank. Helpless, she looked at Caelus, then at the silent black-haired youth.
"I… I don't remember."
He rubbed his chin, pretending to ponder three seconds, then glanced at her bright pink hair.
"No memory? Hm… today is March 7th—so you're March 7th."
March… March… seventh?
She repeated it, feeling a strange familiarity, as if this casual label had always been her true name.
"All right, I'm March 7th!" She accepted it at once, smiling brightly; her earlier bewilderment vanished. "Thanks for naming me, Boss!"
"Call me Captain."
Caelus produced a pirate hat.
"Ready, kids?"
"Aye-aye, Captain!"
"Too quiet!"
"AYE-AYE, CAPTAIN!!!"
"Woo-hoo~~~~~~~~"
Dan Heng sighed.
Two nutjobs.
Any humans left in this place?
The answer seemed obvious.
"What's this?" March 7th poked a purple, jiggly thing in a pot by the storeroom wall.
"That's a Puff-Shroom, a mushroom you can use as a non-host."
"What's a non-host?"
"Anyway, it's still a baby Puff-Shroom—don't worry. It's one of the Cosmic Junk Company's products. Right—new-employee orientation over!" He clapped. "Our first mission: set off and hunt for more 'treasure'!"
He strode to the pilot seat, pirate hat askew yet somehow fitting.
The next few days March 7th learned what "finding value in junk" meant.
Their ship threaded through heaps of trash: abandoned mining planets, forgotten ancient-battle debris, even the edge of a star-whirlpool of garbage.
And Caelus embodied the soul of a true scrap-collector.
"What's this!" His heart pounded, hands trembled.
"A cardboard box," Dan Heng replied.
"A cardboard box!"
Tears welled in Caelus's eyes.
"It's just a box."
"No, it's aaaa cardboard box!!!"
"Wow, a box!" March 7th's eyes shone. "Captain, Captain, what's special about it?"
Dan Heng hefted the carton overhead like a sacred relic: "It's intact, uncrushed, barely stained, standard moving-carton size! Do you know the odds of finding one this pristine in the cosmic dump? It's a gift from the Trash-Bin Gods!"
"Oooh, I see!" Enlightened—though she didn't quite—March 7th caught his enthusiasm. "What'll we put in it?"
"No-no-no, this box is incredible—its uses exceed your imagination!"
"Exceed my imagination?"
"Yes—it's an Imagination Box!"