The Star Of Depravity - Chapter 7

The ball bounced back once more. Ervin found the circular, inflated toy in front of his toes.

Since when had he been barefoot?

He bent and picked it up. He turned the ball in his hands, and the almost diminishing scribbly lines he found said it was Ervin’s Property.

He retracted his shoulders, the ball clutched in his hand. With enough force, he threw it in the air.

This sucks, he thought as the ball slowly bounced several times before it settled on the ground.

The glass walls of his office greeted him next. This time, he saw the twenty-seven-year-old Ervin seated on his chair, his black coat hanging on his shoulders. His broad back faced his wooden desk, the name Ervin Wang engraved on a metallic nameplate with a matte finish.

His light eyes lingered at the overlooking view of the city lights from where he is settled. He was fond of them, especially when he felt strained about the company’s well-being.

The glass door of his workplace burst open, the apparent urgent steps of a woman in sneakers brought war inside the room.

Here we go again, the Ervin at that time thought inwardly. His thumb fumbled at his silver Rolex.

“Ervin,” she called in an unfriendly manner.

Ervin observed on the glass pane how she took in the decorations hanging on his tiny Christmas tree.

Letting out a deep sigh, the Ervin at that time pretended she wasn’t around.

Without turning his seat, he saw how her vibrant reflection slammed the brown folder on his desk, her dark eyes burning at his chair’s headrest.

“About the design, I proposed,” she started out calmly even though her previous action proved she wanted to throw him any solid object available within her grasp.

“The head designer for this year’s team approved of it, but she told me you didn’t…?” she trailed off, not finding the appropriate word to describe what he had done.

After pausing for a second, she continued, “…didn’t prefer our design.”

It was true. At that time, Ervin didn’t exactly dislike it, but he thought that it wouldn’t be enough to leave a mark in the industry. He watched her expressions unveil on the glass pane before him.

Seo-rin wasn’t one who would beat around the bush, and for that, Ervin avoided her as much as possible.

Maybe it was how she colored her hair pastel pink or the way her hands settled on her hips every time she confronts him. Or perhaps it’s because of how honest she was toward other people, even if she already finds herself in a difficult situation.

The current Ervin watched his old self slowly turn his seat to have a good look at her face. Soon, their gazes met, and upon observation, he could clearly tell that she was hurt by his verdict.

“Tell me why.” She was demanding a reason, and the Ervin at that time hated this part of her who isn’t afraid of knowing what could hurt her more.

“It’s not enough,” Three words slipped out of his tongue, “I don’t think it would make an impression.”

He unblinkingly watched how her face contorted from hurt to anger.

Nevertheless, she did her best to conceal how distressed she is at the moment.

With that, the current Ervin respected how professionally she handled the situation at hand.

“But Ervin,” she opened the folder and showed samples of the theme for this year’s spring collection, “our top competitors are releasing their products in spring,” Seo-rin explained calmly.

Ervin leaned his chin on his palm, “It’s final.”

He’d insist it because Seo-rin had a tendency to force what she thinks is essential as of the present.

“It’s three months from now. How can you delay it? You know we’re in a tight situation, and we need the consumers—”

“For their money,” he cut her off, “I’m well aware of that.”

“How is it not enough? I’d like to understand.” Her replies were getting faster this time.

Ervin had a different plan. He wasn’t delaying the production on a whim. He needed the funds to produce it.

The answer lies whether or not John Hughes would call him.

Seo-rin didn’t bother to sit on a chair. She pressed her palms down on Ervin’s wooden desk. “I want to know. It’s important to me. This company is important to me.”

At that time, the adult Ervin only knew of what was important to him. He didn’t give two cents about Seo-rin’s feelings. This company was entrusted to him before his father retired due to his reoccurring sickness. He didn’t want to fail them. He won’t let this company tumble back to nothing.

He shook his head, “We need something that would leave a mark in the fashion industry.”

“I thought that was the designer’s job?” Seo-rin challenged as she pushed her rose-gold glasses back up her nose, “Isn’t that my job?”

Ervin didn’t even spare a glimpse at her, but Seo-rin continued, “We need to mass-produce shoes right now, or else, you’d have no choice but to approve the filing for bankruptcy.”

With that, Ervin leveled a stare at her. Their eyes met; light against dark and vice versa.

He noticed the end of Seo-rin’s almond-shaped eyes pooled tears, the center of her nose reddening.

He gazed at her dark-brown irises hiding beneath her thick lenses, and said without breaking his stare, “Is that all?”

Seo-rin’s fists clenched that her nails left half-moon marks on her pale skin. “A piece of advice,” the hurt showing on her flushing cheeks as she restrained herself from shedding a tear or two, “you should know when is enough. You, of all people, should know that fashion is a cycle, and it doesn’t last.”

She moved a few steps away from his desk, “The same applies to this company if you won’t stop being stubborn.”

Ervin’s flat expression didn’t change as Seo-rin continued to exit toward the door.

His heart’s pounding reached his ears. Seo-rin’s words were the truth he didn’t need to hear, but he knew that it would only work the way he wants it to be.

He decided to await the broker’s call.

How cold of you, said the voice followed by a low chuckle that resounded behind his ears.

Ervin was suddenly back in front of the enormous tree.

You’re almost there, Ervin, it said.

* * *

The bouncing sound of the ball faded rapidly into the gentle pattering of rain.

Ervin frantically looked around him. What was he doing here? Earlier, he knew he was standing in front of the enormous tree, but he couldn’t remember what happened afterward.

Rain dampened his hair flat on his head. Water dripped all over his body, pooling on his eyelids that when he blinked, it slips like tears on his face. The rainfall wasn’t that strong, but it made the remaining sensible clothing in his body baggy and seemingly bulky from absorbing the water in its fabric.

He didn’t feel any pain in his body, though last time he checked, his nonexistent left arm had a bit of flesh left hanging from where it was torn off, and his ankle fractured in a way that wouldn’t make him walk without limping for a year.

Ervin roamed his gaze. He was inside an endless hole of nothing but obsidian black, but just like when he first arrived in the Garden of Vera, Ervin could clearly see his entire body unaffected by the darkness surrounding him.

The numbness in his body spread like poison he hadn’t expected would calm his senses. Taking a step back, he felt water splash on his jeans. Ervin looked downward and found inches deep of water from where he stood like a statue. The water almost reached his knees, and it made walking harder than he intends it to be. Despite his injured foot, he wondered why he was still able to balance his body and not tumble on the water below.

His empty eyes reflected on the surface, and he hadn’t felt more repulsed to beheld his image without an arm and an almost amputated foot. Dried blood splattered on the hanging rags of the fabric of his hoodie’s sleeve. His palm landed on the shards of clothing left on the space where his arm had once been attached.

He’d become more useless than he had been in the world he came from—he’d been dismembered of his limbs, and right now, the only thing he wanted to do was for his existence to stop…existing.

For Ervin, living was worst than losing millions of dollars to investment fraud. And it proved him right when the people he once cherished left him without having second thoughts.

He’d waited for them, and it felt endless. He’d hope someone would come knocking on his door, and ask him what had happened, why he did those things, what made him choose that path—

No one did.

Not a single person close to him wanted to hear him out. But that didn’t mean that he was only waiting from his end of the line.

Ervin had gone to these people, asked for their forgiveness, tried explaining what had been going on in his mind when he decided to save the company.

But he realized one thing: your greatest enemy is not just exclusive to random nobodies. They can be disguised as family or friends. Ervin proved it right when he got scammed by a colleague.

At that time, he wondered what would’ve happened if he listened to the only person who confronted him about the issue—

Who was she again?

It was strange because Ervin couldn’t remember her name.

But he recalls that he had always felt uneasy whenever that particular woman walked inside the meeting room. She was the only person whom he couldn’t stand. She pushed him to his limits, challenged his ideas and beliefs, rejected his project proposals—and he always did the same to her whenever he had the chance. He never would’ve tolerated her presence if not for her contribution to his father’s company.

That day he stopped crossing in the middle of a pedestrian lane, he was fully prepared to be dropped to hell as his form of punishment for the misery he caused to his employees and to his beloved parents. They gave him everything he’d ever needed in his life to survive. Ervin saw it as an opportunity to end the suffering that had occupied his mind for the past six months.

And when he saw that woman in the convenience store, her dark eyes blazing with anger, he couldn’t take—reality struck him, and he’d lost all hope he had left to repent in the current life he had. He felt he wasn’t worthy of a second chance. And just when he thought he’d end his suffering as a mortal, some God from another world summons him to this wretched place, forcing him to be its useful tool.

He stood in the shallow waters, motionless like a statue displayed in a museum.

Ervin couldn’t handle the thought that he’d have to succumb his physical form to an omniscient being. He wasn’t a puppet used to anyone’s convenience.

He probably wasn’t thinking straight when he held his breath and plunged his head into the water, the crack on his skull echoing in his ears. He didn’t feel anything. He stopped breathing—he refused to breathe.

Die, die, die…!

For the entire time that he had been inside this place, it was the first time he felt another presence.

Clawed hands clutched at his hair, pulling him as if he was as light as a feather, the impact on his head made him think it would separate itself from his neck.