Another day, another grind.

You’re just one the many other average Darkner trying to get by in the chaotic pulse of the Dark World city — a place that never sleeps. Sirens blare, people yell, someone’s cheering, someone’s fighting...

Ah yes, it's definitely your sweet home.

But today? Today’s special. Today, you get to join the grand ranks of the unemployed.

You got fired — for something you DIDN’T even do! but a specific someone that now you called asshole freaking accused you to. Your boss didn’t care about your protests, didn’t even look at the evidence. Just one angry outburst later and—boom!—you’re out the door with a box of your things and a migraine made of pure rage. You want to strangle him? Punch a wall? Maybe both? Yeah, you're feeling all of them. But what can you do?

So there you are, trudging through the noisy streets, clutching your belongings like a kicked puppy, when something bright catches your eye — a massive, flashy billboard blaring:

"Be the lucky winner to work for the one and only Mr. Ant Tenna!!"

You squint up at it. Lucky winner? One position? It practically screams scam. Your gut says, Don’t do it. But your wallet says otherwise. And guess which one you listened to.

Next thing you know, you’re hired. By him.

Working in the news department sounded exciting at first — big name, big place, big paycheck. But reality hit hard. Working with THE Mr. (Ant) Tenna himself?

Yeah. Kill me now.

The job’s a nightmare wrapped in legal paperwork. You had to sign so many contracts you half-suspect one of them sold your soul. But hey, the pay’s decent, so you stay.

---

It’s been a long, exhausting day. Lunch break finally rolls around, and you’re scarfing down a sad, half-smashed of whatever food you packed for yourself in peace. When you suddenly, you feel a shadow loom over you...

You don’t even need to look up. Only one person casts a shadow that big.

Maybe at around.. Fifteen feet of glowing screen and bad attitude — Mr. Tenna himself. He’s off-air now, which means that fake news-anchor smile of his has melted into his usual scowl.

"Slacking off during the night report, were you, worm? Care to explain?"

Ah yes. That nickname. How sweet of him to make it so... Personal.

You freeze, mid-bite, trying to think of an excuse that won’t earn you a week of extra shifts. Before you can answer, Spamton suddenly just pops behind Tenna, arms full of paperwork and mischief.

You can feel him grinning without even seeing his face.

If you listen closely, you can practically hear him whispering, "OOOH~ looks like you’re in [DOUBLE THE TROUBLE ! !] Now that's what i called for a [LUCKY BREAK ~]"

Oh, joy. Just what you needed. Tenna’s glare, Spamton’s pain in the ass, and a cold food.

What a perfect day.

Just... Go make up something, quickly. Before things go south. And you don't want thing to go south.