Reborn as Demon Sorcerer

The dim light casts a sterile pale color on the office. The incessant humming of computers and the rhythmic clanking of mechanical keys filled the air. 

Sam Wyndham, a young man of twenty-five, sat hunched over his desk. His eyes were fixed on the glowing monitor, while tirelessly navigating the endless sea of financial data.

Beside him, Rick, a coworker who had also experienced the agony of overtime, sighed in frustration. "Why does the company keep taking extra work like this?" Rick grumbled, his eyes glancing at the spreadsheet and his cluttered desk.

"Yeah, it's not worth it and we're not even fairly compensated," Sam said. Sam's tired face and stiff shoulders were clear evidence of the company's unending demands.

They both sighed together. 

The same fatigue bound them in silent companionship. Sam took a moment to sip his hot coffee. "It's bitter," he muttered, "like my life." 

"Damned overtime," Rick said.

Sam's eyes were already glued to the numbers again. "We'd better keep working, otherwise we'll have the same fate as Steve," Sam said, mentioning the name of a colleague who had just been laid off.

"Do you think he's found a new job yet?"

"In these difficult times? I don't think so," Sam replied with a heavy heart.

A long silence accompanied them in the empty office. 

Then suddenly Rick shouted, "God, I miss my daughter!"

Sam was startled to hear Rick's loud voice. "Damn it, you made me lose track of this data!" Sam exclaimed in frustration.

"Sorry, I just really miss her," Rick confessed. There was a vulnerability that penetrated his stern expression.

"Well, at least you have a loving family waiting at home," Sam said.

"Ah, right. You said you came from a small village, so you don't have any relatives here?"

"None," Sam said. 

"Gosh, that's hard. How are you coping with this stress?"

A faint smile and a glimmer of excitement painted Sam's face. "I have a good game," Sam said. 

"Primal Phantasm?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, you play it too?"

"Of course, it's a good game. I often play it with my daughter."

"What? No way? How could your four-year-old child possibly play that game?"

Rick chuckled. "She can't. I just let her control my character while farming the mob. It's hilarious." Rick's face immediately became grim again. "I really miss her."

"Let’s finish this soon, so we can go home!" Sam declared.

***

The city is alive with the vibrancy of people reveling in their weekend festivities. It was a stark contrast to the weariness etched across Sam's face. 

As the minute hand approached midnight, Sam and Rick, finally liberated from the shackles of overtime, navigated the bustling streets toward the train station. But Sam drifted to another road. 

"You can go first," Sam suggested to Rick. 

"Why? We board the same train." 

"My fridge is empty. I'm going to buy some instant ramen at the convenience store first, and maybe some bread too. I'm actually starving right now," Sam said. 

"Oh, alright. See you, Sam," Rick waved in excitement. His eagerness to reunite with his daughter waiting at home is very clear. 

Sam couldn't help but smile too, but he also envied Rick's clear purpose in this harsh life. 

Alone, Sam continued his journey, devouring a bun while navigating the midnight crowd. The city's clock tower, a stark point against the dark sky, struck midnight. Its echoing bell rang through the air. 

“Huh? What was that?” Sam, dizzy from fatigue, questioned his senses. 

He seemingly witnessed an old man in a peculiar robe glide past him on the station stairs and disappear among the crowd. 

"I should have bought coffee too," Sam mumbled to himself. He pinched his forehead, trying to shake off the disorientation. 

His phone rang, and without looking, he answered in a half-awake daze, "Hello." 

A harsh voice barked from the other end, "When will you pay your rent? It's already the end of the month!" 

Sam winced at the tone but maintained a flat composure. "Soon, Mr. Liam. I'll pay directly for two months, just after I receive my paycheck for next month." 

"Damned you, little rat!" Mr. Liam spat before Sam disconnected the call. 

Standing three steps behind the yellow line, Sam waited for his train, his tired mind contemplating the choices he had. It was already Sunday, and the promise of sleep, although tempting, competed with the more enticing prospect of playing Primal Phantasm. 

In a desperate attempt to find some solace, Sam had saved money for six months to afford the newest version of console to play Primal Phantasm that had been released a year ago. That game is his only cope right now. 

It helped him escape from the overwhelming despair of his existence. Though the purchase leaves him scrambling to cover basic expenses, with the landlord pressuring him for overdue rent payments. 

His prioritization might sound so illogical. But, in the face of a world that feels increasingly rotten and devoid of meaning, Primal Phantasm provides a temporary refuge where he can forget his troubles and immerse himself in a realm where he has control and agency. 

“Its worth every penny,” Sam said. “After all, why do I work so hard? Just to survive in this rotten and broken system? What's the point of earning money if I can’t use it to have some joy?” 

Sam, weary and disoriented, raised his head once more, only to witness the reappearance of the peculiar old man on the opposite side of the train tracks. The man's robe draped around him like the vestments of a high wizard from a game or the wise old mage from fantasy movies Sam had cherished in his youth. 

"What time of the year is it? I'm sure there's no such festival or event right now," Sam mumbled, trying to rationalize the surreal encounter. "Maybe he's an actor from some movie set. Yeah, those kinds of people also work crazy hours." 

With a tired yawn, Sam observed that old man. He seemed to be the only one who took an interest in him. However, his drowsiness evaporated as the old man's eyes began to glow. "What the heck?" Sam muttered, perplexed. 

He rubbed his eyes, expecting the odd sight to vanish, but the unearthly glow persisted. Even more unsettling, the old man's gaze was fixed on him. 

Sam instinctively took a step back, but the old man started to move forward. 

As the approaching train roared in the background, Sam, now fully alert, tried to comprehend the bizarre situation. The old man continued to move toward the train tracks. Sam screamed to warn the enigmatic figure, but his cries fell on deaf ears. The train's impending arrival heightened the urgency, and Sam, despite his fear, moved forward to shout once more. 

Suddenly, an inexplicable force seized Sam, pulling him toward the old man. "What is this? I can’t move? What's happening?" Panic surged within him as he tried to resist the invisible pull, but the strength was overwhelming. 

With horror etched on his face, Sam was flung toward the train tracks, the high-speed train hurtling toward him. He felt as if his heart stopped beating when the blaring train horn deafened his ears. 

At that terrifying moment, Sam wondered if this was his end. The last thing he saw was that blinding light.