The uncanny returns, and a blood moon hangs overhead.
Containment objects run rampant, while humanity struggles to survive by “resonating” with myths.
As for me, Lin Ye, I transmigrated into the lowest-ranking position at the Containment Bureau, a logistics archivist earning a monthly salary of 4,800. My daily routine: slacking off, mooching electricity, and waiting for the workday to end.
Then one day, the world-ending containment object [Lord of Nightmares] broke free of its seal.
The elite squad was wiped out, and headquarters issued a conscription order that meant certain death.
Watching the combat division chief piss himself in terror, I quietly pulled out my logistics department ID.
“Boss, just one question, ”
“If I take this thing down, does that count as overtime? Do I get comp time?”
The next second,
black mist surged skyward behind me, and a towering, fearsome divine form appeared.
Countless phantoms of “fellow Daoists” bowed in unison, their voices shaking the heavens:
“We respectfully obey the decree of General Fen Shui!”
From then on, everything went completely off the rails.
While others risked their lives to resonate with myths, I opened the Handbook of Role-Playing:
The Painted Ghost Immortal is slaughtering a city? I play the Poet Immortal Li Bai, my sword's light chilling nineteen provinces.
An evil Western god invades? I summon the God of War Bai Qi, whose bloodbath at Changping claimed four hundred thousand.
An ancient calamity awakens? I call out for the Great Sage. Summoning a god is easy... sending one away?
The Containment Bureau chief is going mad: “Who are you, really?!”
I point to my ID badge, looking completely innocent:
“Reporting to the boss, I'm really just a logistics guy!”
“, I only fill in for the immortals once in a while.”
