The Keeper's Rant Log

The day product manager Lu Xingchen was laid off, he came across a strange job ad: “Minotaur Security Bureau · Anomaly Response Specialist: five insurances and housing fund, meals and lodging included.”

He thought it was a scam, but went anyway.

On his first day, he discovered that the receptionist was cracking sunflower seeds, the archives held a rabbit that spoke with a Northeastern accent, and HR said the employee handbook had only three rules: Never look directly at anything you can't understand; if you do, don't describe it; if you describe it, come talk to me. And most importantly: if the second hand on your watch starts moving backward, run.

During his first week: a farting cabinet, a shock wave that nearly killed him, a nightmare that crawled out of the shadows at three in the morning and dragged people away, a cold-faced team leader whose bleeding hand got nothing but a bandage, and, in the mirror at the end of the third-floor corridor, a figure who shouldn't have been there.

On his fifth day, he discovered classified files hidden in the company's OA system, files he didn't have permission to view.

On his seventh day, he had a meeting to discuss becoming a permanent employee. That is, if he was still alive by then.

“This is a story about keeping your sense of humor in a mad world.”

“Fight the Old Ones before starting the job, fight PowerPoint after.”

“Laugh all you like, but don't look in the mirror at three in the morning.”