I worked myself to death in a 996 job, then transmigrated into a corpse in the United States that had been dead for three years in 1874.
The first second after I woke up, the house was full of ghosts.
The second second, a broken copper strip inside me burned so hot my spine started smoking.
The third second, a voice exploded in my head:
“Idiot! What kind of useless wretch are you?!”
Zhong Kui, a jinshi from Zhongnan in the Tang dynasty and a thousand-year-old Ghost King, now lives in my chest.
He gave me three things: a divine body, a sword’s courage, and the secrets of the underworld.
Virtue is currency:
Subdue ghosts peacefully, and your virtue soars. Slaughter innocents, and Zhong Kui will strangle me himself.
Western spiritualists holding séances? “You call this spirit communication?”
I wrote the character for “edict” in the air. Crimson light exploded, and every ghost in the house dropped to its knees.
Madame Blavatsky stood up on the spot, trembling all over. “You are the incarnation of an ancient Eastern god!”
No, I’m just an office drone.
...An office drone forced by a thousand-year-old Ghost King to hit his KPIs.
