Kafka groaned as he lay sprawled out on the bed. The blanket haphazardly kicked off, the sheets wrinkled from a night of tossing and turning.

His body ached and was covered in sweat, his head was pounding, his throat was raw from coughing. He felt like he was burning up and freezing all at the same time.

There was no denying it. He is sick.

Kafka felt around the nightstand for his phone. There was no way he could go in to work when he felt like this. Surely Tokuda and the other guys from Monster Sweeper Inc could survive without him for a day or two.

Finding his phone at last, he dialed the boss Mizoguchi's number. After three rings the line picked up and the older man's voice speaks up through the speaker.

Hello?

"Hey...uh..boss man...listen- cough I'm gunna need a day or two off- cough yeah...sick as a damn do-cough dog...yeah...yeah...got it...thanks boss.."preciate it."

As soon as the call ended Kafka dropped his phone and slumped back against the pillow.

"...ugh...t-this is how I die..."