I Slay Immortals in the Name of Mortal Justice

In 2026, I dropped dead at my desk after working overtime.

I thought transmigrating to a cultivation world would finally free me from the 996 grind.

I couldn't have been more wrong. The sect was just a publicly listed company in different clothes, cultivation meant clocking in at work, and so-called immortal marriage arrangements were really just resource allocation.

According to sect regulations, my wife, Shen Sui, was about to be let go and assigned to a core disciple as a cultivation furnace.

No spiritual roots, no System, no miraculous stroke of luck.

All I had left was nine years' worth of workplace resentment and the Ox-and-Horse Sutra carved into my bones.

The immortal sects care about resources and seniority, not fairness.

Then I'll be the one to launch a labor arbitration spanning the entire sect.

I'll strip away the hypocritical facade, layer by layer, and bring my people back with my own hands.