“Brothers, I’m back again. But this time, I’m not in the livestream. I’m in hell.”
Kong Muzhi, a sharp-tongued, hard-hearted international student, unexpectedly transmigrates into the “Divine Nation of America” in 2077.
Here, there is no Statue of Liberty, only a “Divine Emperor” sitting on a golden toilet.
Here, there is no health insurance, only the “eternal bills” of the Almighty Pfizer.
Here, there are no wolves of Wall Street, only the “skull dividends” of Goldman Sachs’ chosen ones.
In this world, thoroughly ruined by the Four Great Chaos Gods and the corporate giants, ordinary people’s lives are worth no more than cheap nutritional paste. They could drop below the “kill line” at any moment and become monster food.
The good news is, Kong Muzhi has brought an Eastern cheat specifically designed to counter these fiends and demons: the Zhong Kui tradition.
The bad news is, he’s hungry.
“What? You’re a Great Unclean One of Nurgle? Tastes a bit like stinky tofu. Good enough.”
“You’re a chosen one of Khorne? Your meat’s too tough and gets stuck in my teeth. One star!”
“You’re the CEO of the Almighty Pfizer? Sorry, your soul reeks of money. I’m afraid it’ll give me indigestion, so I’ll just send you off the old-fashioned way.”
From a forensic assistant in an underground dissection lab to the “Judge of Gluttony” who makes an entire star sector tremble.
Kong Muzhi’s creed is simple:
“If you treat people like batteries, don’t blame me for treating you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. The rules? I am the rules!”
This is a revolution about eating.
Welcome to the revelry below the kill line.
