On the Death List, I Started Cultivating Immortality

Lin Mo saw his name on the company's internal form. Status: Pending write-off. Time: 2:17 tomorrow morning. Five of the six employees in front of him have died. The sixth one was toasting in the conference room and fell to the ground in public forty seconds later. Until that night, Lin Mo didn't know that the office building swallowed up not only overtime hours, but also people's lifespan. The company is the front of the formation, the powerful are the puppets, and the tens of millions of ordinary people who are struggling to make ends meet are just consumables maintained by the monks. There is no system, no immortal inheritance, and no heaven-defying qualifications. All Lin Mo can rely on is the forbearance, prudence and calculation practiced by the low-level cattle and horses. Others compete for opportunities