As a Migrant Worker in Yokohama, I Actually

Copywriting one: When I woke up again, I became a Yokohama Shimei Kuroto with no money, no house, no memory, and no identity. My body was covered with scars, and my abdomen was opened by someone. When I was about to die from blood loss, someone saved me. The other person was a boy who was younger than me. He was thin and tall, with a palm-sized face that was pale and malnourished. He not only sent me to the hospital, but also took care of my food, clothing, housing, transportation and identity issues. I was deeply moved by this, but the other party only had one request - let me work for him. Just work. Working part-time can not only make you rich, but also make friends and marry a wife, so I accepted the job voluntarily. After working for three years, after being demoted, promoted, and transferred between departments, my hair became less and less, my back became more and more hunched, and I was about to end up as a social worker forever. At this time, my life benefactor and former immediate boss made money, blew up my colleagues' cars, and ran away leaving a lot of work behind! At this time, as a migrant worker in Yokohama, I actually—— Copywriting two: He thought he should have seen these eyes before, eyes that were calm, calm, and wise. That was illusion, and it was also all the reality in his world. Get rid of the copywriter first 2020.10.28 Open in November Mission: There is no difficult job, only strong workers