I (30), Who Works for a Black Company and Died While Regretting My Gloomy Life, Started Over From High School!
Chapter 141: Enough already, you damn idiot!!

The company building was quietly nestled in a corner of the urban area.

It was not an overly large building, and the cracks and stains on the walls that had been left unattended spoke volumes about the true nature of this company.

Makkuro Trading Co., Ltd.

The sinister melting pot where every element of a “black” company had been thrown in.

(…I’m surprisingly calm.)

The wretched hell that had thoroughly destroyed my life. As I stood at the entrance again, I half-expected traumatic flashbacks and even hyperventilation, but strangely, I felt nothing.

Once, just entering this building would make me feel nauseous—

(Well, it works in my favor. Let’s call this a long-awaited return to the office.)

I passed through the company’s entrance into the smoky interior. I headed for a specific department rather than my own desk.

I passed by familiar faces of colleagues along the way, but there was hardly any emotion. They, too, wore uniformly tired expressions, and there was no cheerful atmosphere in sight.

(With the turnover rate being so high, people leave before anyone can get close. Honestly, I barely remember the faces of any of my colleagues…)

“Oi, Tanaka! Haven’t you finished that proposal I told you to do yet?! I said do it in a day!”

“I-I’m sorry! B-but, before that, I was instructed to make an estimate for Motoki Trading Co. yesterday, and I had to stay overnight…! I really didn’t have the time…”

“That’s because you’re leisurely sleeping at night, you idiot! Don’t think you can get any sleep as a working adult! Damn it, you’re useless!”

In a section I happened to pass, hysterical shouting echoed from early in the morning, and a young man was bowing and apologizing, looking like he was about to cry.

And this wasn’t particularly unusual. With just a little attention, you could hear dirty shouts echoing from all over the company.

(All the management here are useless, and they just make the lower ranks work. They’re engaged in personality-denying harassment that’s practically on the level of company ethics and internal regulations… Looking at it again, it’s amazing how this is considered normal here. There’s not a hint of corporate ethics or compliance.)

Incidentally, if a capable person did come in, the managers would engage in particularly overt bullying to protect their own positions, and they’d quickly drive them out.

Of course, if they continued this, capable talent would stop coming in, and the performance would worsen—leading to the necessity of salarymen.

Like me, someone weak-willed and vulnerable to power harassment, they’d bind them in fear and secure numerous just-work-without-overtime machines as part of their slave plantation, a cost-cutting technique to keep the company afloat.

(Really, why did I stay in a place like this…)

As I felt a deep sense of disdain for myself, I walked down the grimy hallway, looking at the unchanging hell around me as if it were someone else’s problem.

When I reached my desk, the only thing that flashed through my mind were the wretched memories that made me want to retch blood.

My seat, where I had endured countless shouts and worked to the point of losing my mind.

Looking back now, it was clearly madness to toil away in this small prison day after day, as if I had lost all my human rights.

(Well, it’s fine. With this, I’m finally completely cutting ties with this place that corroded my life.)

Two hours had already passed since I arrived at the office, but during that time, I hadn’t actually done the work I used to do at this time.

I had come first and foremost to settle the score.

“Oi, Niihama! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

A middle-aged man barged into my desk with the force of a surprise attack when I had just about finished my assigned task.

“Manager…”

He was a heavily built, obese man in his fifties, and among the rotten management, he was one with an especially hideous core.

Since joining the company, he had been the symbol of my fears, and the unreasonable amount of work he imposed and the constant torrents of abuse had undoubtedly worn away my vitality.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call him the man who drove me to work myself to death.

(Come to think of it, after the second cultural festival, I dozed off and dreamt about this guy… At that time, I sank into the depths of despair, wondering if the whole second-life thing was just a dream. But it was probably because this guy’s face was such a vivid representation of my corporate slave life.)

Well, at that time, I did get some satisfaction from beating him to a pulp in the dream to vent my long-standing grievances…

“What’s wrong, Manager? You seem a bit worked up for the morning.”

“What’s wrong? What the hell is this?!”

With a thud, the manager slammed an envelope onto my desk. Clearly written on its surface was “Resignation Letter.”

It was the one I had submitted to HR first thing in the morning.

“Well, I was planning to talk to you about it, Manager, but for now, I’ve submitted the necessary documents for administrative processing. Due to significant deterioration in my health and dissatisfaction with the treatment of unpaid overtime, I have decided to resign.”

“Huh…?”

As I calmly informed him, the manager stared at me as if a dumbfounded beast had suddenly started speaking.

“As for the handover, I’ve placed a complete manual in the shared folder, so please instruct the successor to refer to it. As for various other matters, I’ve just sent out emails to all relevant parties.”

In this company, there were no proper operation manuals, and there were also many locally defined rules set by individuals. For this reason, I had been diligently creating a detailed manual with precise procedures, which functioned as the latest version of the handover document.

“After determining my resignation date, I plan to take all unused paid leave until that day. With that said, thank you for everything up until now.”

In terms of gaining freedom of action from now on, and in the sense that I shouldn’t have stayed in this company for even a second, resignation was a necessary step. In my life, it was something that should have been done much earlier.

“Huff… Don’t screw with meeeeeeeee! You’re quitting!? Do you think such a thing will be allowed, huh!? You want to be beaten to death, don’t you!”

It was expected, but the overweight manager went ballistic, spitting out foam as he yelled. He was so upset that it seemed like his blood vessels might burst any moment. I vaguely thought it would be nice if he just keeled over then and there.

“First of all, someone like you who’s quitting won’t be able to survive out there! We’re kind enough to hire a useless guy like you, and this is how you repay us!?”

Due to the commotion that had erupted early in the morning, my colleagues had gathered around, and they were divided into those who nodded deeply at the manager’s words and those who trembled under the boss’s wrath. In a normal company, such a remark would warrant disciplinary action, but in the end, no one reprimanded him.

“Thank you for your concern. However, I won’t change my intention to resign. Setting aside what comes next, first and foremost, I want to escape from this workplace that’s breaking my body and soul.”

“W-what…?”

As I responded in a matter-of-fact manner, the manager’s expression shifted to one of perplexed confusion.

(Hmm? …Ah, I see. Normally, when he shouts like that, I’d be paralyzed in fear. It’s completely unexpected for him that I’m calmly responding.)

Certainly, in my former self, I wouldn’t have been able to rebel against him, dominated as I was by fear. Every day was terrifying and painful—no matter how important something was, I would run away from anything that seemed like it might hurt my heart.

(Most of the reason I couldn’t quit for so long was mainly because of that… It’s strange. Even when I used to be so terrified of the manager’s shouting, now I don’t feel a trace of fear.)

That’s undoubtedly because I redid my high school life in that second world.

With an overwhelming burden of regret in my heart, I returned to the past and faced everything without fear.

In doing so, as I gained various things, I naturally came to realize.

That my life as a corporate drone… was just how absurd it was.

(Back in the second world, I thought my high school self, who worried too much about the school caste, was foolish… But looking at my past self who obediently submitted to this crap boss, I can only think I was truly an idiot.)

When I returned from my reverie, the manager in front of me was seething with anger.

“Don’t underestimate me, Nihamaaaa!! Who said you can quit here! If I don’t approve the application, you can’t resign, and of course, your leave request will be rejected! You dare say such insolent things in front of me… You must be prepared, right!?”

“Well, I don’t have time for things like that.”

To the obese boss who was frothing at the mouth and shouting so much it seemed like he was on some sort of drug, I shot back with words that I was genuinely fed up with.

In response, not only the dumbfounded manager but also the people around us were left speechless with astonished expressions.

“Resignation and paid leave are the rights of workers. You do know the company can’t refuse that, right? I’ve left evidence of my paid leave application, and I’ll send the resignation letter by certified mail later, so there’s no use arguing about not receiving it. But if you still won’t acknowledge my resignation… shall we go to the labor standards office or something? Well, if it comes to that, the company is likely to be in big trouble when various violations are uncovered.”

“Y-You…!”

When I dreamt of this during the cultural festival in the second world, I could rebuke this crap boss without hesitation because I knew it was a dream.

But now, even knowing that this was undeniably real, I was slamming my anger at him without hesitation.

For me, who had relearned the most important thing in life in that second world, there was no longer a trace of fear for this fool right in front of me.

“Phew, well then, I’ll take my leave. You can stay there and keep shouting like a thug for the rest of your life. It’s really pathetic for someone in their fifties who can only preserve their self-esteem by shouting at subordinates because their life is so empty.”

“—–!”

The manager, who was now so overwhelmed with anger that he couldn’t even speak, was trembling all over and dyed in a deep shade of anger.

But that sort of thing was already beyond my concern.

“I’ve written down my desired resignation date in the email, so please confirm and notify me of the approval. Well then, as I said earlier, I’ll be on leave starting today, so I’ll take my leave.”

Saying this, I grabbed my bag and left the spot.

Most of the crucial parts of the resignation procedure that had been dragging on until I worked myself to death were smoothly completed in just one day.

The gazes from the people around me were mostly filled with astonishment, but it was already something that had nothing to do with me.

TLN: Thats right! Stick up for yourself!