After working overtime for seventy-two hours straight, Lin Zhou, a product manager at a major internet company, dropped dead. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing on the Bridge of Helplessness, his phone screen shattered and his suit askew. An old woman holding a bowl was tapping him on the head and telling him to drink his cilantro-flavored Meng Po Soup. At the bridgehead, an electronic display blazed with the words “Satisfaction: 0.5 stars. One negative review.” Before he could even curse, his phone automatically brought up a “Underworld Modernization Management System V1.0” and informed him that he was the new bridgehead administrator. If he didn’t raise satisfaction to at least two stars within seven days, he would be turned into a bridge pier forever. His daily duties included calming the bizarre complaints of waiting ghosts, dealing with Meng Po’s cilantro tyranny, fighting the traditionalists’ classical Chinese PowerPoint presentations, and stopping a schemer hiding in the ghost queue who had already driven three previous administrators out of office. On top of that, he had to help a stone bridge that had been alive for ten thousand years solve the mystery of its origins. Other people transmigrate and become all-conquering heroes. He transmigrated to become a bridgehead administrator, and negative reviews still hurt his performance rating. The Underworld’s KPIs are way harsher than the living world’s.
