[Group transmigration + unhinged antics + workplace reform]
In my past life, I worked myself to death. Now I’ve transmigrated to a cultivation world, and I still have to watch my boss’s mood? To hell with the heavenly way and its grand principles! My fate is mine to control, not some KPI!
The PR queen can talk a millennia-old powerhouse into a shattered Daoist heart; the financial tycoon has her back, turning the cultivation world’s spirit stones into worthless paper. And then there’s the socially anxious hacker, swinging a sledgehammer: “I may be too scared to speak, but I can still crack your skull!”
Three best friends claim a mountain and set up the “Madness Sect,” with one guiding principle: no more self-torment. In a bad mood? Go wild! Someone getting on your nerves? Go wild! The cultivators are horrified: “They’re not cultivating at all. They’re here to reform the workplace!”
And what about the aloof, transcendent, number-one genius of the cultivation world? Sheng Weiwei points at him casually. “You, the new guy. Wash your bowl before you leave.”
If you’re not crazy enough, how can you become a god?
