Zhou Xin was so broke he could barely afford his rent. Then the mysterious old man from the “Relics” agency found him and handed him a bulging envelope full of cash.
“Do a job for me. Once it’s done, you’ll become an official custodian of ‘Relics,’ with a salary and social insurance.” A trace of ill intent lurked in the old man’s smile. “If you mess it up, you’ll have to pay back twice what I gave you, and... you’ll probably die.”
Zhou Xin looked at the money, then at the “Trial Contract” stamped with an ancient seal. He gritted his teeth and signed.
