I was born with a short life, and I have been working for various gods since the age of eighteen to extend my life - checking accounts for the God of Wealth, managing red lines for Yue Lao, and reviewing files for the King of Hell. I thought I could survive until the end of my life, but the newly appointed war god of the workplace blocked me directly in front of my work station and handed me a golden contract: "I heard that you... Are good at working?" He tapped the "tenure-time" clause with his fingertips, "Sign it, and I will support you."
