//WE ARE HERE.

"It look plain." You note. It does look very, very plain compare to all the building in the city. Grey, big, and blocky. The sight beyond the giant gate though, is not what you were expecting from such a sight: oh, there were serious looking, professional clothed people alright, but aside from that there is no female employee in sight, everyone here also is missing their... pants.
"What... the hell?" You wonder as you step forward to the receptionist: a huge, fat, elephant looking thing. People push against you as you wait the line, their... stuffs linger too long on your body to be comfortable.
"I-uh. I want to join the Mailman Syndicate, please?"
The elephant seem annoyed at the question, but then clap his hand and put a stamp on your forehead. It then say:
"For good or ill, in hell or heaven, even if a bullet shot through our head, the mail always come through."
"Uh, what-"
A slap from the elephant almost twist your head. It repeat :
"For good or ill, in hell or heaven, even if a bullet shot through our head, the mail always come through."
//ITS THEIR OATH. REPEAT IT.
"Right, right. For good or ill, in hell or heaven, even if a bullet shot through our head, the mail always come through!"
"Left hall. Section B." The elephant said, and you hurry yourself to the station. What a freaky place.

"Newbie?" A half skeleton, half steampunk robot asked you, his hand shifting through the pile of papers on his desk.
"Yes. I came here for mission, i think?"
"Ah. We are currently having another outbreak of the Succubi Plague in District 9. Most employees are working overtime right now and you would be desperately needed to deliver antidote and maps to the doctors there."
"Excuse me, but what is the Succubi Plague?"
"Just drop your pants here. You will know what the Plague is soon enough." The skeleton replies. But then it see that you only have a curtain wrapped around your chest, and a bucket on your head.
It laughed.