Chereads / The Three Day Survival Game / Chapter 61 - Tailored for Tomorrow

Chapter 61 - Tailored for Tomorrow

The elevator dinged softly as it stopped at the 50th floor, its sleek metal doors sliding open with a mechanical precision. Marcus, the so-called "Geek God Secretary," was already standing there at his impossibly large, meticulously organized desk. His signature flashy smile greeted us before his voice did.

"Right on time," Marcus said, motioning us toward the chairman's office. "He's been waiting."

As we waited for Marcus to inform the chairman of our arrival, I couldn't help but notice how little had changed. The same crisp, chilly air-conditioning that made my nose itch hung in the air. The same enormous desk, minimalist decor, and intimidatingly spacious room awaited us. The only difference? This time, the chairman was waiting with an eager expression instead of his usual stoic demeanor.

"Good morning, sir," Karun greeted him with a steady voice.

"Hi, you guys—the champions, should I say. Congrats, you've made it," the chairman replied, his tone surprisingly warm.

"Thanks, sir," I added, my voice a mix of formality and relief.

The next three hours were spent submitting our report and recounting our adventure in painstaking detail. The chairman's expressions ranged from raised eyebrows to faint chuckles as he followed our story. Once we concluded, he leaned back in his chair, looking both impressed and contemplative.

"Well done. Let's have lunch," he said with a smile that left little room for argument.

The meal was delicious—an unexpected gesture of hospitality—but it didn't distract Karun from the elephant in the room. As soon as the plates were cleared, Karun leaned forward.

"Sir, about our jobs… Could you please return our ID cards?" he asked, his voice carefully measured.

The chairman chuckled as if Karun had told a joke. "Friday," he said simply. "Come to the meeting at 5 p.m., and we'll settle everything then. Until then, Marcus will assist you."

Without another word, the chairman practically dismissed us, his tone leaving no room for further negotiation. As we exited the office, Marcus gave us a knowing look.

"Chairman's orders: you need to look your best tomorrow," Marcus said with a grin that hinted at his meticulous nature. He wasted no time ushering us to a luxury boutique nestled in the heart of the city—a place I'd only heard of in passing, whispered about for its exclusivity and sky-high prices. As we stepped inside, the sheer opulence of the space was almost overwhelming. Gleaming marble floors, soft golden lighting, and racks of suits that looked like they belonged in a fashion magazine surrounded us.

A team of sharply dressed staff approached us with professional smiles, their movements precise and almost rehearsed. "Measurements, gentlemen," one of them announced. They worked with military efficiency, wielding measuring tapes like tools of their trade. Within minutes, every detail from our shoulders to our inseams was meticulously noted.

"Your suits will be ready by morning," the lead tailor said confidently, as though they could bend time itself to meet the deadline.

I couldn't help but mutter, "Huh?" under my breath. It was only Thursday, and the meeting wasn't until 5 p.m. tomorrow—Friday evening—but it still felt like an impossibly tight schedule. Marcus, unbothered by my skepticism, turned to us with an air of finality.

"And now, gentlemen, it's time to unwind," he declared, as if we hadn't been through enough luxury for one day.

From there, he whisked us off to an upscale spa, the kind of place where the air smells faintly of lavender and soft music plays in the background. For what felt like hours, we were pampered like royalty. Hot stone massages, aromatic steam rooms, and facials that left our skin glowing. I had never experienced anything like it—and to be honest, I wasn't sure how to feel about it.

By the time we emerged, the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the city. Exhaustion clung to us like the lingering scent of essential oils. Marcus, ever the efficient taskmaster, dropped us off with a final reminder.

"Tomorrow is Friday, and the meeting's in the evening at 5 p.m. Be well-rested, and don't be late. You'll have your suits first thing in the morning."

With that, he left us, disappearing into the night like a man with a hundred other tasks to complete. As we trudged back, I couldn't shake the feeling that the chairman had something significant planned for tomorrow. But what could it be?

Later that night, Priya called us out for a little rejoining party to celebrate our survival. Under the glittering, starry disco lights of the club, we danced and laughed like carefree souls. It was the first time in weeks I felt truly light—until the weight of memories crashed back down.

For the first time in my life, I had a drink. Just one, but it was enough to blur the lines between present and past. The crowded room, filled with couples swaying to the music, reminded me of Kris. The ache in my chest returned, and before I knew it, tears streamed down my face.

Priya noticed immediately and guided me outside to a quieter spot. "Stay here," she said gently, "I'll send Karun to get something to sober you up."

As I waited, the alcohol loosened the tightly bound memories of Kris. Gasping for air between sobs, I poured out my story to Priya. She listened, wide-eyed and silent, until I finished.

"That's… that's the most shocking story I've ever heard," she finally said, her voice soft.

Before I could respond, the dizziness hit me hard. Priya stood up to fetch Karun, leaving me on the couch. Determined to shake off the haze before he arrived, I stumbled toward the washroom, using the poles along the way for support.

Halfway there, I grabbed onto what I thought was another pole—only to realize it was warm, soft, and smelled faintly of something familiar. The "pole" moved. My blurred vision cleared just enough to reveal a face in front of me.

Deep blue eyes stared into mine, eyes that felt like they could see my soul. The chiseled, familiar face in front of me brought my knees weak. My breath caught as tears welled up again.

"Kris…" I whispered, voice trembling.

I clung to the hallucination—if that's what it was—crying into his chest. It felt so real, so painfully real, that I allowed myself to believe for just a moment.

That was the last memory I had before everything went black.