Forget about getting a golden finger. Put your faith in your teammates.
The System of Rules had barely bound itself to me when my master physically yanked it out of my chest the very next second, turning it into a palm-sized ball of blue light.
From then on, Shen Yan had no cheat ability and one more demanding master to deal with.
“Host, you’ve got a bit of food stuck in your teeth.”
“Shut up, Little System.”
“What did you just call me?!”
“You agreed to that name pretty quickly.”
Rules descended upon the world. Notices reading “Do not look back” covered the corridors, and elevators bore signs saying “Out of service after 23:00.” A coworker looked back and turned gray on the spot.
Shen Yan, a twenty-eight-year-old office drone with dark circles practically welded to his face, had a burn mark on his left hand to remind him that breaking the rules meant being erased.
At least he still had his master. Wearing an old hoodie, squatting in a corner watching short videos, he tore down rule notices as casually as peeling a delivery label.
“Erasure forbidden here.”
He simply stuck it up. The inspector crashed on the spot.
Shen Yan thought his master was a cheat. His master turned around and pulled out his System.
“Too noisy.”
Then he handed Shen Yan a DingTalk time clock, a Digivice, and an Ultraman summoner.
“Go play by yourself.”
Holding the palm-sized, sharp-tongued artifact spirit, Shen Yan stood on a street plastered with rules and fell into thought
Other people bind a System and start their rise to the top from the start. He bound a System, and it got yanked out.
The System becomes an artifact spirit, and the sharp-tongued banter begins.
Rules horror × modern workplace jokes × childhood franchises thrown into the mix.
Just how powerful is Master? Powerful enough to look up and see the “screenwriter.”
Volume One: The System Is Gone, but Life Goes On.
