"Don't look at this as a job interview," Labiba had said. "I hate the word 'job.' My employees are my family, and what is done here are not jobs, but duties. The expectation from the employees here is nothing more than for the individuals within the family to fulfill their own obligations. So, let's not call it a job interview, shall we?" Labiba spoke with great confidence, but because of his appearance, this self-assured demeanor felt unsubstantiated. One could even say that this confident attitude made him look ridiculous. "Let's call it a partnership, a form of solidarity… You scratch my back, so I can scratch yours."
Labiba was certainly human, but he resembled a potato tied to a flying chair covered in lumps. This one-meter-sized mass of flesh had likely turned into a ball of tumors as a result of genetic mutations. Although his legs were excessively thick and puffy, they were quite short. In fact, he sat on the chair with his legs tucked up rather than letting them hang down.
His suit must have been tailored with those lumps in mind, as it was quite baggy. The reason he chose this Italian-cut suit, as the old-timers called it, was likely because he fancied himself a powerful figure, like a mafia boss. However, once you left this planet, you wouldn't find a single person who would see him as powerful or take him seriously.
Labiba had undergone numerous corruption investigations and had been found guilty in most of them. The sentences had merely been deferred, the primary reason for these deferrals being the relationships between TESO and Evoke Systems. If a judge were to come forward one day and lift the decision to defer Labiba's crimes, he would likely spend nearly 600 years in prison. But… well… he wasn't in prison. Was this not the greatest loophole in the justice system? If you weren't committing a crime that warranted immediate imprisonment and if those crimes were minor, you could commit as many as you wanted. More accurately, if the crime you committed harmed colonial people rather than the SWR (Supreme World Republic), your guilt was acknowledged, but no sanctions were applied. That was how things worked in the dead galaxy.
Labiba had a bald head but a scruffy beard. While speaking, he constantly reached for his tie with his six-fingered hand to adjust it. He likely had difficulty breathing every now and then because of the tie tightening around the lumps on his neck.
"We prefer to see this as a job interview rather than a solidarity meeting," Hikmar said. Standing by the door with his robe and massive physique, he could be described as looking terrifying. He spoke while leaning down. It was clear that he felt a sense of loathing toward Labiba. This was the case for every citizen of the CLAUDIS colonies. As a society that had experienced a leader like Emperor Claudis, they would recoil whenever they saw insignificant leaders, unable to make sense of them. "Ever since we arrived here, a certain lack of boundaries in you and your way of speaking has caught our eye. By calling the employees in your company family members, you may have forced them into self-sacrifice. Please do not use this terminology, which you invented to convince them to work overtime hours for free, against us." Then he looked at his friend Azrak. "If you wish, let us introduce ourselves."
"There is no need…" Labiba said. These words coming from his mouth angered Hikmar even more. Thinking about where the argument could lead, Azrak raised his hand from the chair he was sitting in and intervened, asking for the floor.
"I would like to introduce myself, with your permission. My name is Azrak of TerraGorh… You may just call me Azrak. Along with my friend Hikmar, I am a member of Exosanguis. Our organization roams the ruins of alien civilizations that vanished centuries ago, searching for ancient loot. I am an Enhanced cybernetic, part-alien and part-human technology, built with the treasures I've acquired. I am a Relic Hunter on TerraGorh."
"We already know these things," Labiba interrupted Azrak with a very self-assured tone. "I've read the reports on who you are many times. But I want to ask a question: according to the SWR, there shouldn't be an alien civilization as advanced as humans."
"There is no such alien civilization anymore anyway," Azrak said confidently. "Only the machines and some artificial intelligences they made before disappearing still live. It cannot be called a civilization."
"And this friend…" Labiba said, pointing to Hikmar with his hand. "I know he is a Cyoh Katum priest."
"Then you should also know that you must not point your finger at a Cyoh Katum priest," said Hikmar, striking his staff on the floor. "But despite that, you continue to speak with that pathetic cunning inside your mind."
"Hey!" Labiba turned to Azrak. "What is this man's problem?"
"He is a bit old-fashioned, sir."
"Ah…" Labiba sighed. "Where is Nuskul?" he muttered to himself. At that moment, the massive door of the meeting room opened, and Nuskul entered, his boots caked in mud.
"I'm not late, am I?"
"No… we hadn't started the job interview (he emphasized the words 'job interview') yet," Hikmar said.
"Then, if you'll excuse me…" Nuskul said, and as he moved to the chair next to Labiba, he whispered into the man's ear: "Sir, the cave heretics have been dealt with."
"Wonderful…"
Meanwhile, Azrak and Hikmar wondered whether these two men knew that they could hear them thanks to their cybernetic bodies. How was it that these men could be god-kings who ruled with tyranny, entrusted with the lives of thousands of people?
"Can we return to the job interview?" asked Hikmar, striking his metal staff on the floor. "As you know, until the job interview is over, we are not considered to be working for you!"