Here I am with Chapter 4! It's the longest one yet, just north of 6,000 words. In a young-adult novel, that's 24 pages, but fortunately I'm not bound by the limits of an actual novel in terms of word count.

All the support you guys have given means the world to me. We hit 500 views yesterday evening. More importantly, I've been having so much fun writing this afterlife saga of Victor Chelan. Enjoy this chapter!

I might have been in heaven, but Amanda's words shocked me right back down to Earth. I couldn't be angry with her for ruining the idyllic moment, though; it simply wouldn't be productive. Instead, I could blame the situation.

And believe me, it was very hard not to be irate at the situation, because the Braixen certainly sounded preoccupied. There was no need to worry in a place like this, because, to paraphrase that one annoying movie theme song, everything was amazing.

I'd gotten lost in my own thoughts for long enough that Amanda started looking at me expectantly, and I had no option but to respond. I had nearly forgotten her question; I'd lost track of what she'd said and focused on how she made me feel.

"What would you like to tell me?" I asked her, feeling my heart sink a bit with every word.

"Well, you've seen those pictures in the living room, I have to assume."

"The ones of you in a bikini?" I blurted out, not realizing quickly enough that this was a rather rude thing to ask a woman.

Amanda nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. "Yes, those pictures are of me. You are right; I was once a human."

It's just like that book Reckless Paradise, I thought to myself. Except as far as I know, this isn't a mass transformation, it's just Amanda...right?

"If you were once a human, then how did you become a Braixen? I've never even heard of that being possible!"

My designated soulmate shrugged. "What you need to realize, Victor, is that everyone arrives on Paradise Island as a human. It's only after we've been here for a while that we become Pokemon."

The full implication of those words hit me right between the eyes. At first, I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to face the truth. But the inconvenient truth, the cold, hard reality of the situation, was absolutely irresistible.

I was going to become a Pokemon.

I was grateful that I hadn't been standing, or else my knees would have buckled. As it was, I felt rather lightheaded, and found myself hyperventilating in order to get my composure back.

"Yes, I know, Victor. It's really hard to face the truth sometimes. But yes, you're going to turn into a Pokemon one day. It's something all of us need to deal with, but there is some good news."

Good news? I feared that once I was no longer human, I'd lose my humanity, everything that made me Victor Chelan. Yes, it was an irrational fear, but that didn't mean it wasn't real.

How could there possibly be good news?

"The good news is that it's not a specific moment that you transform; rather, it will occur slowly, over a matter of weeks. At least, that's how it was for me."

And that's supposed to be BETTER?

"I've still got, like, a hundred questions," I replied. "You're throwing this all on me really fast."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that," Amanda told me. "But isn't it better for me to drop the news quickly, rather than trying to sugarcoat it?"

I realized then that she was acting a bit strangely. On one hand, she seemed to think it was preferable to become a Pokemon slowly rather than all at once. On the other hand, she wanted to tell me about my ultimate fate all at once, rather than slowly. There seemed to be a contradiction there.

Eh, it's probably just an oversight.

"Is that why you're taking the medication?" I asked Amanda. "Is that what turns you into a Pokemon?"

After a brief pause, she nodded. "I have to take it twice daily, right after I wake and right before I sleep, for three months. I'm about halfway through the course. But it's a particular medication to turn into a Braixen, whereas yours might be completely different."

I might have had ninety-nine questions before; now, perhaps, I had ninety-five. We were barely making a dent here.

I was tempted to just go inside and give up on this conversation, but I decided that it made more sense to tell Amanda about my dream. After all, she'd been honest with me, so why shouldn't I return the favor?

"As you know, you weren't the only member of this household to get up early" I said eventually. "I feel like I should tell you about the dream I had last night."

"Judging by what you just told me", the Braixen replied, "it must have been a most unpleasant dream. I'm no stranger to nightmares; that and insomnia are two of the most common side effects of what I'm taking."

"How did you know?" I asked her. "I'm not even on the medicine yet."

She raised an eyebrow. "I guess you could say that I'm good at reading people."

Well, she was right about that; I would give her that much.

After another moment of silence, Amanda asked me what happened in the dream. I sighed, really not looking forward to reliving the nightmare. But she'd put her trust in me, and so I would do the same.

"In the dream, I was in this really dark cavern" I began. "Smelled really bad, too, like a…".

"Like a cross between natural hot springs and a public toilet on a hot summer day?" Amanda asked.

I was stunned; she'd read my mind almost exactly! It was almost as if she actually possessed the ability to look into my thoughts, or if...or if…

Or if she's had the same exact nightmare as me.

"Yes" I replied, looking at her incredulously. "How did you know?"

"Because", she told me, "I've seen the same place in my dreams. It happened more the first few nights; it doesn't happen nearly as often anymore. Was it called the Pit of Panda?"

I nodded in response.

"Yeah, the Pit of Panda is the hole that leads to the bad side of the afterlife. Nobody here knows what's down there, and that's the scary part."

And then I said something that would end up coming across as extremely selfish. It was one of those lines you regret immediately after it leaves the tip of your tongue.

"Why is it scary?" I asked. "You're already in paradise, so why does the Pit of Panda frighten you so much?"

"Because, as some would say, we live in a society. It's been said before, but is it really paradise if people you care about are down there?"

With a jolt of fury at myself, I realized that she was right. How much could I enjoy this place if my loved ones were being tortured for eternity, and there was nothing I could do about it?

"I'm sorry I didn't think before I spoke" I told Amanda. "I can be a bit impulsive sometimes with my words."

"That's no excuse" the Braixen snapped. "Some people think more quickly than others, but everyone should be able to think long enough to know that your take was a bad one."

I raised my hands in the air like someone going through the machine at airport security. "I will be more careful about what I say in the future," I replied.

Amanda nodded, seeming to accept my apology, but I could still barely believe that I'd been so short-sighted. I sat there, brooding about what I had just said, as the sun started to come up.

At some point, the Braixen went back inside the house, but I stayed outside, watching the sun rise over the ocean. The great ball of fire that illuminated the landscape was just as bright as it was on Earth, but not nearly as blinding for me.

After a while, she came back out to the porch, carrying a platter of waffles and a bottle of maple syrup. "I brought you breakfast" she said in a lukewarm manner, as though she wasn't thrilled that she had to do that.

"Really, there's no need," I told her. "I could have made it myself."

"Victor, you haven't even been here for twenty-four hours. I'm not sure you know how to use a Paradise Island waffle machine. Anyway, I'm going back to the kitchen to get some berries to go along with the waffles."

We ate breakfast in near-total silence. Yes, it was awkward, but at the same time, the waffles were so perfectly flaky and crisp that I didn't care too much about that. This was indeed heaven.

Is it really paradise if people you care about are down there?

As I was finishing my third and final waffle, I remembered that rhetorical question from earlier. Clearly, Amanda didn't seem to think the answer to that question was yes.

I hate to admit it, but at the time, I wasn't so sure I agreed with her. Even though the bad place seemed terrifying, all of my family were good people. They'd end up on the good side of the afterlife, wouldn't they?

Amanda seems pretty passionate about not considering it paradise when you're still worried about others. Perhaps she's right, but I still like this place so far.

That question leads into another one: Why? Why does she care so much about what I think?

Maybe there was something she wasn't telling me, but it was probably none of my business, so I didn't ask. And we both polished off our breakfasts without saying anything more.

"Chores start today," Amanda told me as soon as we returned to the kitchen.

"Today? But I just got here" I replied, a bit surprised and peeved that, despite having not yet adjusted to life in paradise, I'd still have to start my chores.

The Braixen shrugged. "The powers that be here on Paradise Island don't care about that. Everyone contributes, no matter how recently they arrived. It's just part of life here."

I remembered what that Glaceon from Frozen Assets had told me, that she was working at the frozen yogurt parlor because it was her assignment for the week. I also recalled that she couldn't attend tonight's party because of it.

"How do I know what my assignment is?" I asked Amanda.

"Look on Pillowtalk" she replied matter-of-factly, gesturing to a nearby computer that I hadn't noticed before. It sat atop a desk next to the kitchen. "Assignments are posted there, just look up your name and it'll tell you what you need to do."

I sat down in the chair in front of the computer and turned the device on. However, it prompted me to enter a password.

"What's the password?" I asked Amanda.

"Covfefe" she replied, spelling the word for me. I had no idea why she'd selected such a silly word, but I wasn't going to question it. I typed it in, and, sure enough, it was the correct word.

As it turned out, there was no Internet browser available on the computer. Safari, Google Chrome, and Firefox didn't seem to exist here; the only available app was Pillowtalk, the logo for which was a brown-haired, mustached man holding a pillow.

When I asked Amanda about the lack of Internet browsers, she told me that this was by design.

"Pillowtalk is the only app we ever need here" she told me. "At least, that's what they tell us. You'll get used to it eventually."

I found it hard to imagine that I'd get used to not having an Internet browser, since I'd spent so much time on the Internet while I was alive. Perhaps it would get easier with time, like the Braixen said.

Anyway, I did a quick search for my name on Pillowtalk, and found my information on it. I, Victor Chelan, age 20, had died on Wednesday, August 11, 2021.

Hmmm...the date says it's Saturday, August 14, of the same year. If my math's right (and I think it is), then it took two days to transport me here. Anyway...

You could search alphabetically by first or last name, but you could also search by Pokemon species, human skin color, date of birth, date of death, age at death, place of death...the search options went on and on.

Underneath my name, information, and photograph (in which I figured I looked pretty good), there were five words, and five words only: PICK MANGOES IN ORKUN ORCHARD.

"Yep, there's your assignment for the week" Amanda told me, causing me to realize that she'd been looking over my shoulder this whole time. "You'll be picking mangoes at one of the orchards."

"How far away are the orchards?" I asked.

"About four miles on foot. You'll work up a sweat on the way there, but there's no need to complain. You're going to feel stronger than you did as a human."

I had better. Picking mangoes in the hot sun sounds pretty brutal.

According to Pillowtalk, my assignment started at nine in the morning, so at a little before eight, I bade goodbye to Amanda and started heading over to Orkun Orchard.

The reason I had left so early was because I wanted to give myself as much time as necessary to find the place. I didn't want to be late; indeed, a desire to be on time to any event had been woven into me for as long as I could remember.

Using a map of Paradise Island Amanda had lent me, I was able to locate the orchards on the island. Knowing that it was a long walk, I decided to pace myself so that I wouldn't be too tired by the time I got there.

It might have only been eight in the morning, but the sun was already beating down. Before long, a thin layer of sweat was present on my forehead, only alleviated by the maritime breeze. I wished that I'd thought to bring a bottle of water.

I had a good two or three hours to think about that, too, I cursed myself silently. I could have brought a backpack, some water, sunscreen, a picnic lunch...but no, I had to space out like that!

I'd spent the last few hours in my bedroom, both consulting the map and reading some of Reckless Paradise. I was a fast reader; before long I'd be done with that book and moving onto another one.

Using part of my shirt to wipe sweat off my brow, I took another glance at the map. To my dismay, judging by the direction of the sun, I was heading in the wrong direction to the orchards.

Shit, that's not good. Okay...should I retrace my steps?

It seemed that in my distraction, I had overshot the turn I needed to take on one of the gravel roads. Fortunately, it wasn't a very hard fix, but it did eat up precious time during my trek, forcing me to move more quickly.

At last, I managed to find the orchards. By this time, according to the analog clock on the sign labelling this the Paradise Island Orchard Complex (PIOC), I still had fifteen minutes to spare.

Amanda must have been right. I do feel stronger than I did in my first life. I'd been a decent runner, able to go a few miles before having to stop. But I was pretty sure I had more endurance now than I'd possessed on Earth. This was a good thing, too, because it took a few more minutes to find the right orchard.

The whole orchard complex was at least a half mile square, with gravel paths in between each orchard that formed a grid of sorts. Each orchard was guarded by a chain-link fence, fifteen or so feet tall, with a small gate built into it.

"Don't worry, the electricity isn't on" a voice announced from behind me.

I turned to find the source of the voice; it had seemed to come from a young adult male, and there was a certain depth to it that wasn't present in my own voice.

Standing behind me was a tall Pokemon with dark gray fur covering most of his body, bright teal eyes, and a large crimson ponytail that nearly covered his whole back. He smiled at me.

I realized I was looking at a Zoroark; it was my first time seeing one in person. I knew that they could create illusions, making themselves appear like any other species of Pokemon (besides Legendaries, of course), and that they were normally very strong. It made sense that such a Pokemon would be assigned to pick mangoes underneath the sun.

"Uh, hi" I replied, not knowing what to say to the Zoroark at first. A few seconds later, I decided to ask, "Why would I think the fences are electrified?"

"They turn the fences on at night, so that nobody comes in and steals fruit when they're not supposed to," the Zoroark responded. "If you touch them when the electricity is on, then, to put it mildly, you're gonna have a bad time."

I took note of what he'd just told me, then remembered something else important.

"I'm new here, and I got an assignment to pick mangoes at Orkun Orchard" I told the Zoroark. "Is that why you're here? Can you show me the way to the orchard?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I've been here long enough that I know where all the orchards are. But you're here a bit early, aren't you? Most of the picking jobs start at nine."

"Just wanted to make sure I got here on time."

"Ah, that makes sense. Anyway, my name's Zapo, how about you?"

I could hardly believe that Zapo was his real name, but I wasn't about to question him. "Victor," I told him.

It was then that I became aware of other beings, both human and Pokemon, picking fruit within the various enclosures. Not all of them were picking mangoes, though; some were picking apples, bananas, and even other fruits that I'd never seen before.

"It's nice to meet you, Victor," Zapo the Zoroark said. "I'll show you the way to Orkun Orchard; that's the one I was assigned to today as well."

As Zapo led me through what felt like a veritable maze of gravel pathways and chain-link gates, I realized that I didn't mind having work to do. If it gave my afterlife purpose, and was something to keep me occupied, then it was well worth it.

"Here it is," the Zoroark told me eventually, pointing to the enclosure on my left, which held about twelve mango trees. "This is the right orchard."

I saw that nobody else was picking mangoes at this particular orchard; it would be just the two of us. Looking up at the tree, I saw that there were literally hundreds of mangoes, all of them looking perfectly ripe and juicy.

"Can I eat some of those afterward?" I asked Zapo.

The Zoroark shook his head. "It's strictly forbidden to eat any of the fruit while we're picking it. However, mango is served in many local dishes here on Paradise Island, so it's quite possible you'll end up eating them anyway."

"You seem to know a lot about this place" I replied, genuinely impressed.

Zapo nodded. "Yeah, like I said, I've been around here for some time. Anyway, we should probably get started."

I noticed that there was a large wheelbarrow in the far corner of the enclosure; when I brought this up to Zapo, he told me that we were supposed to put all the mangoes we picked into the wheelbarrow, then cart them to the supply depot on the edge of the complex.

"That sounds like it's pretty labor-intensive" I said, taking note of the distance between the Orkun Orchard and the edge of the agricultural complex (at least a quarter of a mile.) A quarter of a mile might not sound like much, but when you have to do it repeatedly, hunched over in the hot sun...yeah, this was going to be a doozy.

"Eh, you know what they say...shut up and work, am I right?"

Actually, I've never heard anyone say that, but whatever.

Zapo demonstrated how to use the stepladder to get high enough to pick the mangoes. Most of the fruit was twenty or more feet above the ground, and the ladder was rickety enough that I worried he'd fall and break his neck.

Fortunately, that didn't happen; the Zoroark had had enough practice with this that he didn't seem in danger of falling. Honestly, it was a pretty impressive sight to behold, such a large Pokemon who was nonetheless able to stay so light on his feet.

At first, Zapo simply climbed up and down the ladder in order to give me one mango at a time to place in the wheelbarrow. However, it soon became clear to me that this strategy was a bit time-consuming.

"Do we have a quota or something? How many mangoes do we have to pick?" I asked him.

The Zoroark nodded. "Sixteen wheelbarrows' worth, or roughly four hundred mangoes, per day. Why do you ask?"

"Because this is taking too long," I told him in an assertive manner. "There must be a better way."

Zapo shrugged as soon as he got down from the top of the ladder. "If you've got another method, I'm all ears."

I told him my suggestion, and, thankfully, he agreed to it. From here on out, Zapo would stay in the tree (for, he insisted, he was quite good at climbing them) and toss the fruit down to me. I'd catch the fruit and put it in the wheelbarrow, each load of which (if I did my math correctly) was twenty-five mangoes. Every 25th mango, I would wheel them out to the supply depot, drop them in, and head back to the orchard.

"Correct me if my math is wrong," I said, "but that means I have to wheel this barrow eight miles, right?"

Zapo held out his fingers as though using them to solve this absurdly complex mathematical equation. I could have made a snide remark about this, but I knew that it wouldn't be productive.

"Yes. We've got a lot of work to do."

As it turned out, my hand-eye coordination wasn't what I thought it was. The first mango the Zoroark tossed at me splattered on the ground five feet away from me. Whether it was a bad throw or a bad catch was irrelevant, Zapo said.

"Either way, it's going to attract flies, and we do not want flies. And these flies aren't Pokemon, they're just flies. No reasoning with them whatsoever."

Oh, great. Now we've got flies to worry about too.

The next mango was thrown with too much force, and as I tried to catch it, it exploded in my palm.

"Don't throw them so hard!" I exclaimed at Zapo.

"My bad!" the Zoroark exclaimed, in a tone that suggested he didn't feel bad about it.

The third mango, on the other hand, landed in my palm, but then seemed to roll out. I began to realize that catching mangoes was a two-handed job; this wasn't baseball (which I wasn't even that good at.)

"Be more careful, butterfingers!"

I rolled my eyes at the Zoroark up in the tree. "Do you want to get the job done or not?"

"Fine" Zapo sighed. He then tossed another mango over, and I was able to catch it this time. I swiftly jogged over to the wheelbarrow and placed it there. One down, three hundred ninety-nine to go.

It was ultimately a matter of trial and error. With patience, I was eventually able to catch the falling tropical fruit more consistently, and place each one in the wheelbarrow. Soon enough, we had a system going.

When the wheelbarrow was full after roughly twenty-five mangoes, just as Zapo had told me, I let him know.

"Okay. Now the supply depot is straight out, through the orchard. You can't miss it."

As I began carting the wheelbarrow through the agricultural complex, I thought about how, back on Earth, I'd never given that much thought to the people who produced the food we ate. But when it came down to it, somebody had to pick all the apples, bananas, and yes, even the occasional mango.

I'm certainly gaining a new appreciation for people who do this every day.

Once I reached the supply depot, a long, low wooden building with various rooms for different types of produce, I looked for the section for mangoes. This wasn't hard, since the fruits and vegetables were listed in alphabetical order.

I took a deep breath as I unloaded the mangoes as carefully as possible. The last thing I wanted was to end up breaking more of them, since, as Zapo had let me know, the mango juice could attract flies.

I then made my way back to the Orkun Orchard, at which point I wiped more sweat off my forehead. That was one trip down, fifteen more to go.

The good news? I was getting better at catching the fruit before it hit the ground. The bad news? It was getting quite a bit hotter, and the sweat increased exponentially with each added degree in temperature.

After three more wheelbarrow loads, Zapo called for a water break. As he was climbing down the ladder, I said, "I didn't bring a water bottle with me."

The Zoroark looked at me, shocked. "You're seriously telling me that you didn't even think to bring water? Why didn't you?"

Come to think of it, part of me had believed that I wouldn't need any hydration while doing this job. After all, wasn't I immortal now? On the other hand, I had definitely underestimated the difficulty of transporting fruit via wheelbarrow for hours on end.

"I don't know" I replied, which was the truth. Perhaps not the whole truth, but I didn't lie in that statement, so surely that counts for something.

"They have free extra water bottles at the supply depot," Zapo told me. "If you take one, they won't mind too much, but they'd generally rather you brought your own. They say it's better for the environment and all that."

"But don't we have a quota to fill?" I asked the Zoroark.

"Screw the quota, you're not going to be able to do your job if you don't drink! So go to the supply depot, right now, or I'm not going to climb back into the tree."

I wasn't going to cross him, not least because I was pretty thirsty in my own right. I made my way expeditiously to the supply depot, where, sure enough, there was a room full of canteens.

I hope none of these are used. But are there even any contagious diseases here? There shouldn't be, right? Oh well, I have no choice, so I'd best return to Zapo!

Before that, I noticed that there was a station to refill water bottles just behind the building, and I took advantage of this prior to returning to the orchard. The first sip was heaven against my dry mouth and tongue.

Man, I'd never realized just how thirsty one can get when they're doing something like this!

Back at the orchard, Zapo had drunk all the water he needed or wanted, and had climbed back into the tree. Almost before I was ready, he resumed tossing the mangoes down at me, and I resumed catching them.

Some people like to denigrate agricultural workers as "low-skill" workers, saying that their jobs aren't involved, and, like the term suggests, don't require much skill. This, however, is a blatant lie.

I'd done an office internship on Earth, roughly two years ago, during which time I'd gotten to sit behind a desk in an air-conditioned room. That was a lot easier than picking mangoes in the tropical heat.

Moreover, jobs in this field aren't low-skill at all. Even if you have the mental fortitude to do something like this all day, there are things you need to know in order to be successful, such as the best way to catch mangoes so that they don't bruise and/or explode in your hands.

After another four barrows of mangoes, I was starting to get short of breath again. While my body was clearly in better shape than it had been during my first life, that didn't mean my stamina was limitless; I found myself going slower on the seventh trip to the supply depot. By the eighth trip, I was having to stop every few minutes just to rest for ten or fifteen seconds.

"Lunch break" Zapo told me once I was back with empty wheelbarrow number eight. He climbed down from the tree once more and pointed towards two lunchboxes on the ground near the orchard's gate, neither of which I had noticed before.

I'd been dreading telling the Zoroark that I hadn't thought to bring lunch either. Fortunately, it now seemed that I wouldn't have to.

As we ate the food that had been put in the lunchboxes, Zapo asked me about where I had come from. More specifically, his words were, "Where did you live, and how did you die?"

I didn't necessarily feel violated by this, but I asked, "Why do you need to know that? A bit of a personal question, the second one is, is it not?"

The Zoroark shrugged. "I can tell you a bit about myself, then. Maybe you'll trust me more."

"There's no need", I replied, but Zapo wasn't hearing any of it.

"I know that I'm called Zapo here, but my real name on Earth was Jack Froot. It's spelled with two O's instead of a U and an I. I know, it sounds really silly, but that was unironically the name my mother gave me."

I found myself laughing so hard I worried my ribs might break. "I'm sorry, but that name sounds too crazy to be real. Jack Froot?"

Zapo (or was it Jack?) nodded, smiling as he did so. "Yep, that was my Earthly name. I had it legally changed once I got to Paradise Island, since it wasn't a name I wanted to keep. How about you? Are you happy with your name?"

I shrugged, for this was a question I had rarely, if ever, been asked.

"Eh, I don't think about it that much. It's just a name, really."

The Zoroark smiled at me. "Anyway, about me...I was a disk jockey, or DJ, at various clubs in the state of California. That's all I'll say for now."

My two thoughts about that were the following:

He wanted to know how I died, but won't tell me how he died. Okay.

Also, who knew that a DJ would have such a strong work ethic?

"I was just a college student," I told Zapo. "Nothing that interesting happened to me on Earth, until that one day when I died trying to save someone else in the ocean."

"At least you didn't die in vain" the Zoroark replied. "The same cannot be said of me."

"Eh, I kind of did," I said, shaking my head and frowning. "Not only did I drown, but I didn't even manage to save the distressed swimmer. All I managed was to get myself killed, when a lifeguard could have handled the situation much better."

At least you didn't die in vain. The same cannot be said for me.

I was tempted to ask Zapo what he meant by that, but it seemed that he wasn't comfortable talking about it. As such, we continued eating our lunches until they were gone.

Once we were both finished eating, Zapo climbed back into the tree for what he said he hoped would be the final time. "This ladder feels very rickety, even when it's sturdy," he told me. "Trust me, you don't envy my position."

I never envied that. Truth be told, I am a bit afraid of heights.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. It's true that the task was very repetitive, but once we were in the zone, I almost enjoyed it. Almost.

"This is the last one" I said confidently as we loaded the sixteenth wheelbarrow. "After this, we'll be done!"

"Anywhere you need to be tonight?" Zapo asked me as he slowly made his way down the ladder. "You sound like you're in a hurry."

"There's a party I'm going to tonight" I replied. "Can't quite remember what time it is, but I was invited by a Lucario named Cyrus. You know him?"

The Zoroark nodded. "Yes, he's a good friend of Maximus, the Machamp who throws the parties. Do you know where his house is?"

"Isn't it a mansion, not a house?"

"Yeah, technically it's more of a mansion. It's called the Maximus Mansion, and it's one of the most impressive buildings on Paradise Island. But Maximus is the nicest guy you'll ever meet, never brags about his wealth."

How do you even become wealthy in paradise? Is it according to how good you were in your first life?

Once I had returned with the sixteenth and final empty wheelbarrow, I looked at the analog clock, which stated that it was half past four. I'd still need some time to prepare for the party, and would have to find it.

"Don't worry too much about finding the manor" Zapo said, as though reading my mind. "There's a shuttle station just outside of Enil Edam, from which they'll drive you to the party. It's a pretty big event."

"Thanks for the advice" I replied, still barely believing that I'd been invited to such a major social function. In my first life, I hadn't been a social butterfly; I had never even been to a cocktail party, since on the day I died, I was a year younger than the US' drinking age.

I guess the afterlife is all about second chances. And I am going to take full advantage of my second chance.

"Do you need me to show you back to the edge of the complex?" Zapo asked me as I turned to exit the orchard.

"Nah, I think I know the way," I replied. It was basically just the opposite direction from the supply depot, a pathway I'd become intimately familiar with over the last seven hours.

As I bade the Zoroark goodbye and started heading outside the agricultural area, I became sure of two things: I had made a friend picking mangoes, and I hoped to make more that evening at the Maximus Mansion.

My afterlife is just getting started.

Remember, if anyone wants to talk to me about anything, my Discord tag is Lucas Whitefur#7822. Also, I would appreciate if you guys rate and review. This is all made possible by readers like you. Thank you.