My name is Zhang Jiao. I once held three volumes of the heavenly book "The Essential Art of Taiping" in my hand, which stirred up the turmoil of the Three Kingdoms.
When he woke up, he became a paralytic in modern Jiangcheng and still owed rent to his beautiful landlord.
In order to pay the rent, I was forced to ride a small electric donkey to deliver food.
A spicy pig's trotter rice made me meet the devil.
They asked me to join the Demon Management Bureau? Three thousand five thousand a month? Don't go.
Until the director came to the door in person and made an offer I couldn't refuse:
"Mr. Zhang, we don't talk about the staff, we only talk about the price. We will make a one-time deal, starting at six figures, with a car and a house, and all your sister's expenses will be taken care of. You just need to answer the phone when our 'geniuses' can't figure it out."
I nodded: "Yes."
Since then, the Demon Management Bureau has had a mysterious foreign aid.
He runs a medical clinic, but with just one phone call he can put an end to the S-class turmoil that wiped out the entire special service team; a casually drawn piece of yellow paper can make the old academics at the institute regard it as a miracle and beg for analysis.
They all thought I was after leisure and money.
Little do I know, what I really want is to use this important weapon of the country to find out the cause of death of this body's parents, as well as the shocking mystery that hangs over the modern city called "The sky is dead."
When I unfold "The Art of Peace" again, the whole world will tremble.
