The night the Rule Horror arrived, everyone else was desperately running for their lives.
I, on the other hand, was forcibly hired as the apartment complex's property manager.
The woman in red in the elevator is afraid of hot soy milk. The laughter on B2 can be blocked with soundproofing foam. The package that knocks on your door has to be fed cat food first.
Three years later, the survivors burst in, expecting to find a pile of bones.
I was wrapped in a blanket, cooking hot pot, and flipped a page in my log:
“Don't panic. Sit down. Those things outside... they're under my management now.”
These days, instead of risking your life fighting the rules, why not put the supernatural to work for you?
It looks very interesting to me. Come on, author [please update]
Not bad, very interesting. I like this kind of books. Come on!
Very good, not bad. Come on, author.
Like this style
Okay, slower pace