Onepen checked her watch. "It's 12:30! Let's break for lunch! Your implants should fully activate within the next hour! After lunch, we'll continue with LMFAO history and organizational structure!"
Everyone stood up and filed out of the conference room.
Jaokhun's eyes were still adjusting. The blurriness was almost gone now, but everything looked strange. Too sharp. Too bright. Colors seemed more vivid than they should be.
Somsong appeared next to him. "Come on, dear. Let's get you some lunch."
She led him to the break room. Grace was already there, heating something in the microwave. It sparked twice.
"Is that safe?" Jaokhun asked.
"Probably not," Grace said cheerfully. "But it still works, so we keep using it!"
Somsong opened a cabinet and pulled out a package of instant noodles. "Here. Mama brand. On the house for the new intern."
"I can't..."
"Nonsense, dear. You look like you need food. It's the least we can do."
Jaokhun sat down at the small table. His vision was getting clearer by the minute. The blurriness was fading fast.
The kettle boiled. Somsong poured water into a cup with the noodles. "Wait three minutes. Then it's ready."
She sat down across from him, pulling out her knitting.
Jaokhun stared at his noodles, counting down the time. His stomach was growling. The cookies from this morning hadn't been enough.
Two minutes. One minute thirty.
Something moved in the corner of his vision.
He looked up.
There was something small near Somsong's shoulder. It looked like a child, maybe five years old, with pale skin and old-fashioned clothes. But translucent. Glowing faintly.
Jaokhun blinked. It was still there.
The child-spirit was floating, sitting cross-legged in the air next to Somsong, playing with what looked like invisible toys.
"Uh," Jaokhun said.
Somsong looked up from her knitting. "Yes, dear?"
"There's... something. Near you. A kid?"
Somsong smiled warmly. "Ah, you can see now! Your implants activated! That's Lek. He's my companion."
"Your... companion."
"He's a Kuman Thong. Child spirit." Somsong looked at the spirit fondly. "I found him twelve years ago during a field investigation. His owner had died and nobody was giving him offerings anymore. Poor thing was starving and confused. I brought him back, got him registered, and he's been with me ever since."
The child spirit looked at Jaokhun and waved shyly.
Jaokhun stared. "The ghost kid just waved at me."
"He's very polite," Somsong said. "Wave back, dear. Don't be rude."
Jaokhun waved awkwardly at the ghost child.
Lek seemed pleased and went back to his invisible toys.
"Why is he here?" Jaokhun asked.
"He has a permit. Registered spirits can stay in the human realm if they have proper documentation and supervision. I'm his guardian." Somsong smiled. "He helps me with small tasks. Organization. Finding lost files. Reminding me about meetings. Very helpful."
"A ghost helps you with office work."
"Yes! Very efficient!" Somsong went back to her knitting.
Jaokhun looked around the break room with his newly activated vision.
There was another entity near the microwave. This one looked like a small creature, about the size of a cat, with too many fingers and glowing yellow eyes. It was perched on top of the microwave, watching Grace heat up her lunch with intense interest.
"There's something on the microwave," Jaokhun said.
"Oh, that's the microwave gremlin," Grace said. "He's not registered. He just lives here. Showed up three years ago and never left."
"Why is there a gremlin in the microwave?"
"He likes the electromagnetic energy. Makes the microwave spark." Grace pulled her food out. The microwave sparked dramatically. The gremlin chittered happily. "Chakrit tried to remove him once. The microwave stopped working entirely. So we just tolerate him."
"You tolerate an illegal spirit."
"He's harmless! Just annoying!" Grace smiled. "Plus he's kind of cute."
The gremlin screeched at her. Not cute.
Jaokhun looked at the corner where the dying potted plant sat.
There was a third entity there. This one looked like a tiny elderly woman, maybe six inches tall, with bark-like skin and leaves for hair. She was sitting on one of the plant's drooping leaves, looking miserable.
"There's a tiny tree person on the plant," Jaokhun said.
"That's Mae Mai," Somsong said sadly. "Tree spirit. She's bonded to that plant. The plant is dying, so she's dying too. Very tragic."
"Can't you get a new plant?"
"Mae Mai has been here for twelve years. We can't just abandon her." Somsong looked at the tiny spirit sadly. "We keep trying to help, but the plant won't recover."
"So you're just watching her die slowly."
"We're doing our best, dear."
Jaokhun's noodles were ready. He picked up the cup and started eating. They were good. Really good. Instant noodles had never tasted this amazing.
Pradit walked in, got his fifth coffee of the day, and sat down at the table. He glanced at Jaokhun staring at the entities.
"Implants activated."
"There are ghosts everywhere."
"Only three in this room. That's not everywhere." Pradit took a sip of coffee. "You'll get used to it. They're part of the office."
"The gremlin is eating electricity."
They all looked at the microwave. The gremlin was indeed gnawing on something invisible, probably pure electromagnetic energy.
"That's normal," Grace said.
"None of this is normal."
"It's normal for here," Pradit corrected.
Lek, the child spirit, floated over to look at Jaokhun curiously. He tilted his head, examining the new person.
"He wants to know if you're nice," Somsong said.
"How do you know that?"
"We've been together for twelve years. I can read him." Somsong smiled at Lek. "Tell him you're nice, dear. He's shy around new people."
"I'm nice," Jaokhun said to the ghost child.
Lek smiled and floated back to Somsong, apparently satisfied.
Jaokhun finished his noodles. His vision was completely clear now. Sharp and vivid. He could see individual fibers in Somsong's knitting. The grain in the wooden table. The faint glow around each spirit.
"Does everyone here see this all the time?" he asked.
"Yes," Pradit said. "Welcome to the rest of your life."
"I want a refund."
"No refunds. You signed the contract."
They sat in silence for a moment. The gremlin chittered. Mae Mai looked sad on her dying plant. Lek played with invisible toys.
"This is the weirdest lunch break I've ever had," Jaokhun said.
"Wait until you see the bathroom ghost," Grace said cheerfully. "He's very talkative."
"There's a bathroom ghost?"
"Don't make eye contact. He'll talk forever about plumbing." Grace stood up. "Anyway, back to work! See you later!"
She left. The gremlin watched her go, then went back to eating electricity.
Pradit finished his coffee and stood. "Onepen's starting the afternoon session in ten minutes. Try not to fall asleep."
"Can I?"
"No. She throws things at people who fall asleep."
"What?"
"Erasers mostly. Very good aim." Pradit walked out.
Somsong packed up her knitting. "Come on, dear. Let's go learn some history."
Jaokhun followed her back to the conference room, still processing that he could now see ghosts and would see them forever.
Lek floated along beside Somsong, humming a little tune that sounded old and sad.
Onepen was already in the conference room, looking way too excited about the next three hours.
"Everyone ready? Great! Let's talk about history!" She turned on the projector. The gremlin had somehow gotten into this room too and was sitting on top of the projector. Chakrit shooed it away with a ruler.
First slide: "THE HISTORY OF THE VEIL: HOW WE GOT HERE."
"Let's start at the beginning!" Onepen said cheerfully. "The Veil is a natural barrier between the human realm and the supernatural realm. It's always existed. But about one thousand years ago, something catastrophic happened!"
She clicked to show a map of the world with red marks spreading across it.
"Around the year 1025, the Veil suddenly became extremely thin across the entire world. We don't know exactly what caused it. Natural disaster. Magical catastrophe. Solar event. Something. But manifestations exploded. Entities crossed over everywhere. Cities were destroyed. Kingdoms fell. Hundreds of thousands of people died."
New slide showing old artwork of people fighting monsters.
"It was global chaos. Every region tried to handle it locally. Monks performed rituals. Sorcerers cast spells. Warriors fought entities. But it wasn't enough. The manifestations kept increasing."
"So what happened?" Jaokhun asked.
"In 1025, representatives from kingdoms and spiritual organizations across the world gathered in Rome. Over a hundred groups. Monks, sorcerers, warriors, people with the Sight. They formed an emergency coalition to coordinate global response." Onepen clicked to the next slide. "That was the founding of LMFAO."
"It wasn't called LMFAO," Prart said. "The original name was the Sacred Legion of Realm Protection."
"Correct! The organization has been renamed many times over the centuries as governments changed." Onepen showed a timeline. "Sacred Legion. Brotherhood of the Veil. Royal Order of Manifestation Control. Each reorganization brought a new name."
"In 1991, there was a massive restructuring. Someone suggested Legion for Manifestation Filtering and Anomaly Oversight. It sounded modern and professional."
"Didn't nobody notice?" Jaokhun asked.
"Nobody noticed the acronym in English until after seventeen countries had signed the paperwork... by the 2000s, when the internet became popular, it was way too late. Changing it now requires amending international treaties. So we're stuck with LMFAO forever!"
"Bureaucracy!" Pradit said flatly.
"Exactly!" Onepen beamed. "Changing it now requires amending international treaties. So we're stuck with LMFAO forever!"
She clicked to show organizational structure. "Headquarters established in Rome, where the original coalition met. Over the next fifty years, regional offices were established around the world. Southeast Asia Regional was actually based here in Bangkok initially!"
"Wait, really?" Jaokhun asked.
"Yes! Bangkok was the regional hub for 800 years! But when Singapore gained independence and established itself as a financial center, they lobbied to move the regional office there. That was 1975." Onepen's smile became tight. "They argued Singapore had better infrastructure and international connections. Headquarters agreed."
"And that's when everything went wrong," Pradit muttered.
"Moving on!" Onepen clicked quickly. "LMFAO operates through binding treaties with national governments. These treaties are magically enforced and eternal. Once signed, governments must provide support and funding forever."
"Magically enforced?" Jaokhun asked.
"Yes! The original coalition included very powerful sorcerers. They made sure treaties couldn't be broken. Thailand signed its treaty 600 years ago during the Ayutthaya period. The kingdom agreed to eternally support LMFAO as a secret organization operating within Thai borders."
"Can't they just stop paying?"
"No! The treaty is magically binding! If they try to stop, very bad things happen!" Onepen said this cheerfully. "The treaty requires minimum support. Thailand must fund us and cooperate with operations. Forever!"
"That sounds... intense."
"It's very effective! All member nations have these treaties!" Onepen clicked to the next slide. "Now let's talk about funding!"
The slide said "BUDGET ALLOCATION: A VERY DEPRESSING STORY."
"Each country funds their own LMFAO office. Additionally, headquarters allocates performance-based funding. Offices that handle cases well get more money. Offices that struggle get less." Onepen's smile was straining. "Bangkok used to have excellent funding! We were the regional hub! We had money, equipment, staff!"
"What happened?" Jaokhun asked.
"Ten years ago, Thailand elected a new government. They started questioning the necessity of LMFAO. Politicians can't see entities, so they think we're useless. They cut our budget by 70%."
The room went quiet.
"Seventy percent?" Jaokhun repeated.
"Yes! We had to move from a nice office building in Silom to this location above a 7-Eleven. We had to sell equipment. We lost staff. We're operating with fifteen-year-old technology because we can't afford upgrades." Onepen's smile was very tight now. "But we're managing!"
"How?"
"Very carefully!" Onepen said brightly. "We prioritize! We're efficient! We make do!"
"What about headquarters funding?" Jaokhun asked.
"Performance-based. Since we lost government funding, our performance declined. Fewer staff means fewer cases handled. Headquarters reduced our allocation accordingly. Which means even less money. Which means worse performance." Onepen's voice was getting higher.
"Headquarters says we need to 'demonstrate value' and 'improve our performance metrics' to restore funding. But it's hard to improve metrics when you have no staff!"
"You're trapped."
"We prefer 'strategically challenged!'"
Pradit snorted. "We're trapped."
Onepen took a deep breath and clicked to the next slide. "Let's talk about equipment! Before VeilSight, agents used VeilGlasses. Special enchanted glasses that let you see through the Veil!" The slide showed old-fashioned spectacles with ornate frames.
"VeilGlasses were invented in the 1400s. They worked for anyone, not just people with the Sight. Agents wore them on missions. They were effective... but also incredibly dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" Jaokhun asked.
Onepen's smile faded for a second. "The enchantment was unstable. Long-term use caused a 60% rate of permanent blindness and reality displacement. We call it Veil-Burn. Using them was a slow death sentence. Headquarters banned their use and production in 1850. We have one pair left in a museum in Rome, mostly as a warning."
"So the new tech is better?"
"Exactly! First-generation VeilSight was developed in the 1990s. It was a massive breakthrough because it's safe. It has zero side effects, but it also has one major limitation, it only works on people who already have natural Sight. It enhances an existing ability rather than forcing a new one. It's safer, but it makes it harder for us to recruit new agents!"
"Well, Singapore has third generation that works on anyone."
"Yes! But we can't afford that! So we use first-generation and recruit Sighted people!" Onepen's smile was cracking. "Very resourceful!"
She clicked through more slides. Historical manifestations. The 1782 Garuda incident. The 1856 haunting in Ayutthaya. The 1932 government building possession. The mysterious 1987 event that still nobody would explain.
Graphs showing manifestation increases over centuries. Charts about Veil degradation. Maps showing thin spots. Organizational restructures. Protocol changes.
Jaokhun's brain was getting full. Too much information.
At 2:30, Onepen showed a slide about contract enforcement.
"One important note! Until three years ago, contracts were only financially binding. If someone quit, they had to repay benefits received. But many people couldn't pay, and headquarters had to absorb the cost."
"What changed?" Jaokhun asked.
"Three years ago, headquarters implemented magical binding for all new contracts. Now contracts are enforced through both financial penalties AND metaphysical protocols. If you quit and can't pay, the magical binding ensures compliance through other means."
"What other means?"
"Various methods! Asset seizure, wage garnishment, restricted movement, temporary bindings, referral to supernatural arbitration." Onepen said this casually. "Very effective! Quit rates dropped significantly!"
"Because people are magically trapped."
"Because people honor their commitments!" Onepen beamed. "Much better system!"
By 4:30, Onepen was still going. She'd moved into procedural documentation and filing system explanations.
"And that's why we use color-coded folders! Red for urgent cases, blue for standard cases, yellow for historical research, green for practitioner reports!" She showed examples of each. "Very organized!"
Jaokhun's eyes were glazing over.
At 5:00 PM, Onepen finally stopped.
"Okay! That's enough for today! Excellent first day, Jaokhun!" She turned off the projector. "Tomorrow you'll start working with Grace on documentation! You'll learn our filing system and begin processing cases!"
"Great," Jaokhun said weakly.
Everyone filed out. Jaokhun collected his things and walked to the door in a daze.
His vision was completely adjusted now. He could see everything clearly. Including the spirits.
Lek was helping Somsong organize papers. The microwave gremlin was napping on top of its favorite appliance. Mae Mai looked sad on her dying plant.
"See you tomorrow, dear!" Somsong called. "Get some rest!"
"Thanks," Jaokhun replied.
He walked down the stairs and out onto the street.
And stopped.
The world was different now.
There were spirits everywhere. Walking down the sidewalk. Floating above shops. Sitting on benches. A translucent figure was buying street food from a vendor who couldn't see it. Another was window shopping at a clothing store.
The BTS station had at least a dozen visible spirits. Some waiting on the platform. Some drifting through the trains.
Jaokhun stood there, processing this new reality.
Nobody else could see them. Regular people walked right through spirits without noticing. A businessman passed through a floating ghost and didn't react. A student sat down on a bench next to a spirit and scrolled through her phone.
Jaokhun pulled out his phone. Bank balance: 47 baht.
He opened his calculator app.
If he became a field agent at 50,000 baht per month... minus rent 5,000... minus food 3,000... that left 42,000 per month.
He could buy new sneakers every month. Limited edition drops. The ones that sold out in hours. He could get the Jordans he'd been eyeing for two years. The Off-White Nikes. The Yeezy Boosts.
He could upgrade his entire wardrobe. Designer shirts. Good jeans. A leather jacket. The kind of clothes that made people look twice.
He could go to clubs without checking drink prices first. Order bottle service. Look like someone who had money.
All he needed was to pass an assessment that most people failed.
Easy.
A spirit floated past his face. He swatted at it instinctively.
"Personal space," he muttered.
The spirit drifted away, looking offended.
He walked to the BTS station. The platform was crowded with both humans and spirits. A ghost was sitting on a bench, watching trains arrive. It looked bored.
The train arrived. Jaokhun got on.
His train car had maybe five or six spirits scattered around. One hanging from the ceiling rail. One sitting in an empty seat. One standing by the door.
Regular passengers sat among them, completely unaware.
Jaokhun found a seat. A small spirit immediately floated over to stare at him.
"Can you not?" Jaokhun said.
The spirit kept staring.
"Seriously. Personal space."
The spirit finally drifted away.
Thirty minutes later, he arrived home. He climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, walked inside.
Nont was on the couch, watching TV.
"How was work?" Nont asked.
"Professional. Normal. Boring paperwork all day." Jaokhun headed to his room.
"You look dead."
"First day is always exhausting."
"Did you actually do anything?"
"Orientation. Training. Learning where things are." All technically true. "Very standard."
"Sounds terrible."
"That's government work." Jaokhun closed his door.
He flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
There was a spirit in the corner of his room. Translucent and gray, floating near the ceiling. It had probably been there the whole time.
"Great," he said to it. "You live here too?"
The spirit didn't respond.
"Whatever. Just don't touch my sneakers."
He closed his eyes.
Day one: complete.
50,000 baht per month if he passed the assessment. New sneakers. Designer clothes. Bottle service at clubs. Looking like someone who made it.
He just needed to get fit, stay calm, and pass some tests.
How hard could it be?
His phone buzzed. Text from Pim: "How was the first day?"
He typed back: "Exactly what you'd expect. Boring. Professional. Lots of forms."
"You're being weird."
"I'm tired. Talk tomorrow."
He put his phone down.
The spirit in the corner was still there, watching him.
"If you're staying, we need rules. No noise at 3 AM. No moving my stuff. Stay away from the limited edition Dunks."
The spirit seemed to nod.
"Good. We understand each other."
Jaokhun pulled his blanket over himself.
Four more days until his first payment. Six months until the assessment. Seven years until freedom.
He could do this.
Probably.
The spirit drifted closer.
"I said personal space!"
It drifted away.
This was his life now.