Warhammer: There's Something Wrong with My Administration System

"Warhammer: There is something wrong with my administrative system" - On the ruins of F, light grows If you think this is another cool article about "a time traveler bound to an invincible system and sweeping across the Warhammer universe", you will be slapped hard in the face - and then gently picked up. Lynch, a social beast who had been dominated by KPIs and Excel sheets for three years, slapped the computer desk and fell to the bottom of the hive. What was bound to him was not a combat system, nor a technology tree, but an internal affairs system that would just pop up a cold "Administrative Efficiency Rating: F" every time he finished repairing the water pipes. In this hell where he couldn't even drink water, his golden finger was to assess how he could fix the pipes. This is a story that mixes absurdity and solemnity. Lynch used the tricks he learned in the workplace - doing needs analysis, making lists of materials, bargaining with collectors, and owing "points" one by one - to repair the leaking pipes one by one on the bottom floor of the hive city. Every pipe he repaired had his name and "Thank you" written all over it with charcoal blocks. The names started from Eric, to Kyle, to him. Kyle repaired seven pipes, paid for the points himself, gave the light to the person he wanted to thank in the cage, and then locked the door from the inside. Lynch walked to the cage and found his own name engraved on the ball—it had been there before he was born. What moved me most about this book was not how "burning" it was, but that after describing the suffering at the bottom of the hive city, it still gave everyone a name. There are hundreds of faces on the memorial wall, the strokes on the name pipe that have been worn out by repeated touching and are almost invisible, and the phrase "Thank you. I'm sorry" repeated countless times on the rag. This is not a heroic epic, but a group of ordinary people living in the dark, repairing water pipes, painting stars, and writing "next time" on the shaft pipes, using their own limited and pitiful way to pass on the light to the next person. And the prosecutor of the Ministry of Justice, who had been haunting him since the first chapter, wore a crisp suit and held a chain sword engraved with legal provisions. He wrote down Lynch's "illegal matters" page by page in the code, and finally handed him an offer. There is a line on the code that has been blacked out and it says "unless he accepts it". It's never a punishment. The background of Warhammer 40K is cruelty and madness, but this book plants warmth in the cracks of cruelty. It doesn't beautify the hive city, and it doesn't let the protagonist cheat and turn the tables. Lynch ended up with 64 points in debt, knowing that if he continued to practice, he might end up in a cage like Kyle. But he still repaired them one by one. Because what he was repairing was not the pipe, but the possibility of "someone drinking clean water", the appearance of stars painted on the pipe, and the confirmation that the blind old woman in the water layer touched his hand and said, "You are just like him." After reading this book, I remembered the "ding" sound that La Lai made when he sat by the fire and tapped the rim of the cup with his metal finger. He stopped knocking, turned the cup upside down on his knees, put his hands on his knees, and waited no longer. Because those who are waiting have already arrived. This is a book about "order" - in a world that has gone completely crazy, a social creature uses Excel thinking and pipe repairing hands to send light from the bottom of the hive to the other end of the void bit by bit. It does not promise victory, but it promises: the light is still flowing and people are still walking. That's enough.

Plumber legend, advance money to repair water pipes