4 AM was early for some, but to Zack, his day was beginning. His vision blurred as he watched for deer on the interstate as he drove to his dead-end job. Pain in his legs from a bad fall and no sleep the night before left him in need of any excuse to call in and turn around to race for his bed. He was chewed out by his boss the night before and felt smaller than a hayseed. He endured it to pay rent and keep from being homeless. Who could ever ask for more with their economy?

His poor, failing yellow lights caught a woman waving her arms like a maniac, and he hit the brakes. He felt his break pads protest until he heard the familiar screech of metal. Next paycheck, he would get new ones. Zack just had to make it a few more days.

It was time to play his favorite game—the love of his life or the serial killer. He unlocked his doors and looked around, seeing too many cans of Red Bull. He hurried to toss any he could reach into the backseat. His frantic movements were hopefully covered by his window tent and the lack of light in the cab. He stopped his frantic cleaning when the light flipped on when she opened the door.

Zack wanted to whistle but knew that would be rude, so he thought better. She smiled, revealing the whitest smile he had ever seen. It was like a movie star and influencer mixed together.

"Thanks for stopping. My name is Circe. Nice to meet you."

"Zack and were you named after the goddess?" Zack asked.

"Oh, you know the myths. That's cool."

Why wasn't she telling him where she wanted to go? "It's a little late out did your car break down nearby."

"I don't drive cars, which scares me. They kill more men than shark attacks. Do you know what that means?"

Was she one of those people?

"That cars are dangerous," Zack said.

"No, that people should swim more." Zack raised an eyebrow. I'm joking. That one usually kills. It's like a dead baby joke. Do you remember those?" Circe said.

He decided she was more quirky than a serial killer. Maybe that was the hips that didn't quit, half-revealed legs that rubbed against each other for warmth, and the heaving of her bust. It didn't hurt that she was a beautiful blonde.

Zack tried to relax as he slowly drove, but his bright light revealed no deer in the fields. That was weird. He had seen them four days in a row. Well, maybe someone installed a food plot, and they decided to feed there instead.

He decided to answer just before the silence would get awkward. "What 90s kid doesn't? Should I also use some dated jokes? I hate sand its course and gets everywhere." Zack turned to make eye contact. "Not like you; you're soft and warm. Are you an angel?"

She snorted. "That was creepy, and one of us is the serial killer here."

"We could flip a coin. But seriously, it's late. Tell me where you need to go, and I'll get you there."

"My hero, seriously though, thanks for stopping. You're the first car I've seen in two hours."

"Yeah, it's normally dead out here at night. Except for the deer, they also kill more people than sharks."

The new moon made the road darker, and his lights weren't the best. "How are you able to see?"

"Years of practice, don't worry. I will get you wherever you want to go."

"There is a hotel up ahead that I'm staying at. Let's go there." Zack knew the place; he had passed it several times on his way to work. A massive lit billboard said it was close.

"So Circe, what do you do?" Zack asked.

"Oh, I love interrogations." Zack looked over. "I'm joking. Keep your eyes on the road. Those deer look shifty." She shook her head. "I expected your first words to be, do I have a boyfriend or spouse? Way to be a contrarian. As it happens, I'm a human resource manager for a large company and am always looking for new hires. Tell me, do you have any experience working as a contractor? Someone willing to pick up a girl in need is the right fit for a position that just opened."

Zack raised his hand. "I'm sorry, but shouldn't we have dinner first before you propose to me?"

"You'll know when I make that kind of proposition. Pigs will be everywhere, including the air." Circe said.

"Oh, you're the traditional sort. Well, let's say I have this dead-end job I hate, and I am interested in your position. Could you tell me about it?"

"You have total control over your hours, and so long as you're making progress, we don't care when you work. It does involve a lot of traveling and talking to people. You'll represent us to various companies. I have to say you look the part. The beard really helps; my superiors wouldn't respect a man who can't grow a proper beard."

"So, what would I be a professional friend-maker?" She moved a strand of hair behind her ear, and he could have sworn he saw pointed ears. He decided to move forward, even if it was a scam; he wanted to learn more. "I like it. Where do I sign up?"

"There are benefits and disadvantages. I don't think you're married, but you may need to find a wife in the future."

Zack turned into the hotel parking lot.

"What kind of pay are we looking at?"

"Around 150,000 a year with bonuses depending on your performance. Trust me, we take care of those who work hard for us. You can even choose your company car so long as it's on our list."

"What do I have to do to join?"

"Walk me to my door so I can get the paperwork." This was either going to be a NAT 20 or 1, and he was about to die horribly. "Don't worry, this is all completely legitimate. You aren't getting the job because of your qualifications. It's to cover my ass because the last guy made far more enemies than friends. You aren't the only one we're hiring for this role. Oh, our company name is Elysium. We mostly make materials for military contracts but also deal in small arms manufacturing. I'll get you a hat or some beads to braid into your beard. My superiors will be ecstatic you're the complete opposite of your predecessor." Circe said.

He didn't know if that was a good thing or not; only Circe thought it was.

Zack put his truck in park and looked up the company. He saw a picture with Circe on the cover in a team picture. Then he looked up the company's age and found that it had been around since the Vietnam War. So, he was tentatively starting to believe her.

He got out, adjusted his hidden Glock, and followed her, careful to keep his arm in reach to quickly draw his weapon. Maybe it was the dollar signs in his eyes or that Circe was beautiful. He wasn't totally sure what got him out of his truck at 4 a.m., guiding a stranger to her room. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he hoped things would get better.

The hotel was a typical motel six, with a broken ice machine against a wall, cigarettes covering the ground, and too many cats hanging around the dumpster. Above the door in black and white letters was 13. That was interesting, but he wasn't superstitious.

She opened her door to darkness and flipped the lights on, revealing a well-kept hotel room. No men in masks rushed him, and a backpack with a laptop on its charger waited undisturbed.

"Come on in and close the door behind you." Ok, that was a serious red flag. Circe turned around and raised a blonde eyebrow. "Do I have something to worry about?"

"Well, no, but it's the principle. I'm a strange man, and you're letting me in." His eyes bulged as she invaded his personal space and kissed him. "I could be a serial killer."

Circe stepped back, giggling, which sounded like jingling bells. "Wow, and I could wear makeup to make myself look like a member of Elysium's team." His eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure this is all real. I just felt the hands of fate, you know. My car was destined to die in the middle of the road, and you were destined to pick me up when I needed you most."

"I'm not the friendliest sort. Maybe there are people better than me for the role."

"If there are, I haven't found them. We clicked, and that's important; I put off most people." She flicked her hair back, revealing her pointed ears. She snorted. You should see your face; it's so cute. No, I'm not an elf. The last guy was a fighter, and he impressed a lot of people, but he brought so much heat down on us. We needed someone a little less bloodthirsty."

Zack blinked and turned to see the door behind him vanish. His heart thumped in his chest.

"What's going on here?" He reached for the door that was no longer there. Maybe it was all in vain hope; maybe it was an illusion.

"I told you this was recruitment. A few millennia ago, I pissed off my fellow gods, and I've been doing menial tasks for them ever since."

"So, I'm fucked. Why else would you come clean at this moment? What's going on?" Zack asked.

"I'm so glad you didn't die to that deer." Zack blinked. "Okay, one thing humans don't get about Isekai is that you need a body for the process. There are different layers to reality, and it's only possible to jump around the fifth layer. Unfortunately, we gods can't move beyond Elesium—well, that's the official name for the fourth layer. Right now, we are transitioning from the first layer, the physical realm, to the second layer, the dream realm, or dreamlands, as some call them."

Circe squeezed her butt and dropped a purple thong on the floor. "Zack, your bosses are just a little more important than you originally thought. The only thing that's changing is the scope of your job. I didn't lie to you. We are giving you a job offer. This isn't bad. Don't you want to escape that factory job? I know I would if I was in your shoes."

She hadn't said it outright, but he was supposed to die to a deer.

"How can I trust you after this? We just met, and you," Circe began unstrapping her bra, and his mouth went dry. She was beautiful, easily a 10/10, but did that mean she could get away with this trick?

Who was he kidding? When he met her, he knew it was a trick. Zack stopped; he wasn't the victim. Adapt or die, wasn't that how the world worked?

He had two choices: he could freak out or bang a goddess. What was he going to choose?

"Zack, I think you're a good guy. You stopped for me and took a chance. That's what we need, someone willing to take a chance with people." She rubbed her thighs together. "I admit I acted in bad faith. I was a bad goddess and needed to be punished. So why don't you help undress me, and we can work out some of those frustrations?"

Looking back, his only chance of escape would have been jumping out of the window. But even then, there was a chance they were too far into the dreamland ever to return. His life as a mortal had ended, and he didn't know it, but his life on Earth was also over. By agreeing with Circe, he had been hired without paperwork. To the Greeks, a man's word was his bond.