I woke up to find I’d become Shen Gongbao, the number-one sucker on the Investiture of the Gods list.
Yuanshi Tianzun said, “Your immortal path is doomed to fail. That is fate.”
The System said, “Destroy the Investiture list and work them all to death. Then you can survive.”
I looked at the “Fellow Daoist, Please Stay” cause-and-effect experience card in my hand and the “Know Every Heavenly Court Secret” database, and fell into deep thought.
And so
When Jiang Ziya raised his God-Thrashing Whip, I livestreamed VR footage of him secretly watching the Jade Pool fairies scrub themselves in the bath.
When Nezha came charging on his Wind-Fire Wheels, I pulled out a heavily modified Gatling gun and riddled his lotus body with bullets.
Yuanshi Tianzun’s Nine-Turn Golden Elixir? I fed it to Xiaotian Dog. Taishang Laojun’s alchemy furnace? I turned it into a fully automatic barbecue grill.
I started the Anti-Busywork Cultivation Alliance and recruited every unlucky soul who didn’t want their name on the list.
Our slogan: Reject the Heavenly Dao’s empty promises. Resist the immortals’ pie in the sky. Take control of your own fate!
While the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation was awash in blood, my brothers and I were busy raiding their base, swapping resources, and handing out pamphlets full of dirt.
Then, on the day the Investiture Altar collapsed, Tongtian Jiaozhu gripped the back of my neck and chuckled:
“Fellow Daoist, please stay. Those words belong to me now.”
I swallowed, seeing the Zhuxian Sword Formation flicker behind him.
“Boss, this anti-busywork thing of ours… does it come with social insurance and a housing fund?”
