I Register Demons in the Human World

On the day Lu Qingwu passed the civil service exam, his first visitor wasn't human.

A white deer sat outside the service window, applying to register its residence. Its documents wouldn't scan, but every piece of paperwork was genuine: a forty-year-old property deed, twenty years of school records, and a clean criminal record for the past three years.

The agency where he works is called the Linhai City Branch of the General Bureau of Human-World Demon Registry. Its civil service positions are separate, and the sign is peeling.

Demons are classified into five contracts: white-contract law-abiding citizens, yellow-contract recruits, and red-contract partners in governance. Lu Qingwu has just one duty: helping the old residents who have lived for hundreds or even thousands of years get names registered in the human world.

A cat ghost cared for an elderly loner for seven years, asking only to "see him through his final journey, then register";

when construction workers dug up half the roots of an old locust tree that guarded the gate, he filed a "Relocation of Established Property" claim: "Where its roots are, its home is";

when someone crushed the demon core of a registered demon, he closed the file and said, "This is my business."

Someone asked, Do demons deserve to register their residence?

Lu Qingwu opened the registry: "We're not registering demons. We're registering those who are still here. Everyone still living in this human world deserves a name."

All who register here are my people.