I Became a Player?

"Employee information: Zhang Anzai."

"Administrator Department, 10086th cohort, Group 7, ID 01."

"Tasks completed this week: [Dao Seeking · Pilfering Elixirs from the Temple in the Tower] (Upper-Middle)[Ghostly Haunting · The Water Ghost's Deadly Haunting at Yangcheng Reservoir] (Low)[Folk Taboo · Old Grudges at the Strange Opera House] (Party Wipe)."

"Employee Points: 115."

"Remaining work time: 5 hours."

Staring at the red-and-black page on the screen, with only five hours of work time left, Zhang Anzai, dressed in his corporate drone suit, couldn't bring himself to feel happy.

The reason was simple. The task page alone made it clear that the company he worked for was anything but legitimate.

Beside him sat Lin Zhao, employee ID 02, a fellow new hire with long, jet-black hair. She glanced around furtively before speaking.

"Hey, Anzai, how much longer do you think that asshole's gonna keep yapping?"

He looked back toward the department entrance. A figure in a suit, looking every bit the part of a respectable professional, was yapping away like a mad dog.

That wasn't a metaphor or an insult. It was a literal description.

"Woof! We need a wolfish spirit! You know what that means? Group 6 next door just got a high-rated instance out of their latest batch! What about us? Young people shouldn't always be thinking about resting. I'm giving you work to help you grow..."

Perched atop the shirt collar of that man in a suit was a dog's head. It looked like a country dog, only far more vicious, with drool dripping from its gaping maw.

That was Zhang Anzai's department head, the leader of Group 7 in the Administrator Department. There was obviously something wrong with having a dog's head, but it wasn't just him. This whole company was wrong.

Half a month ago, Zhang Anzai, who'd graduated two years earlier, had still been staying up all night revising a proposal to meet some idiotic demand from a lousy boss at a shady game company.

He'd been thinking about quitting for ages. Then, right at that moment, he received a job offer.

"Ancient Shadow Record Game Company. Position: Operations Administrator. Monthly salary: depending on work performance. Working hours: year-round..."

Zhang Anzai had blacked out as soon as he read that far. When he woke up, he was already inside the company building before him.

It was an office tower with a glass exterior, white lights, computers, and desks. Everything looked just like a normal company. He could even see the city outside through the windows.

Except there was no way out.

The situation was simple: this Ancient Shadow Record Game Company seemed to be the system behind an infinite-flow horror game.

Its internal departments—logistics, finance, administrators, and the like—handled functions such as maintaining instances, distributing rewards, and guiding players.

The problem was their own status. Players gained supernatural powers in all kinds of eerie folklore-themed instances, fighting monsters, exploring, and collecting gear. The employees, miserable as they were, could only support them from the sidelines. Their only path was to climb the corporate ladder, and promotions were hard to come by.

As new employees, they could do little more than assign tasks and watch the players explore. They couldn't afford any decent support items.

Whether they could meet their performance targets by guiding players to a high-rated instance depended almost entirely on the players they were matched with.

"How are things on your end?" Lin Zhao asked. She'd had slightly better luck than Zhang Anzai with her player matches, but they were both new hires, so it hadn't been much better.

"I ran into another bunch of idiots. They entered a Folk Taboo instance, a paper effigy shop, and didn't even look at the signs. They went and got one of the paper effigy makers to weave a paper horse that trampled someone to death."

Most of the players they were matched with were like that. Maybe the overpowered protagonists in infinite-flow webnovels had given them too much confidence. Maybe their peaceful, comfortable lives in the real world had made them complacent. Most were either useless or reckless—or both.

In the instances Zhang Anzai had guided before, one time they had to escape from a water ghost, but nearly everyone in the group was a landlubber. The moment they got in the water, they panicked.

Another time had gone even worse. They got matched with a contrarian who thought he was some kind of underground music expert and ended up in the Strange Opera House. While they were inside, he lectured everyone about traditional opera, saying it wasn't as good as some rapper he listened to.

He was also incredibly bold. He messed with the performers' costumes and opened an umbrella backstage, triggering a taboo and a rules-based kill that wiped out the whole group.

Zhang Anzai shook his head helplessly, his expression bleak. "I finally got a group that was at least somewhat normal. We got an upper-middle rating, but..."

Lin Zhao's expression turned serious. "You're running out of time, aren't you?"

That was right. The remaining work time showed how much longer employees like them could survive at the company.

Once the time ran out, they'd be forcibly laid off, killed, or sent into an instance to become ghost NPCs.

Zhang Anzai had just finished guiding a mid-low-rated instance, which would cover half a week's performance.

However, he had only five hours left and still needed to complete at least one more mid-low-rated instance, or several low-rated ones. Otherwise, his life would end there.

"Clang—clang—" The company's mysterious, distant bell rang, marking another day survived and the start of the nine-hour nighttime break, which would last until the next morning.

The two of them closed their pages for the time being and, like countless other employees, stood up to leave. A dark cloud still hung over Zhang Anzai's face.

They weren't heading in the same direction. Lin Zhao said, "Go back to the dorm and open an instance. I'll finish up on my end as soon as I can. If you need anything, message me and I'll transfer you some points."

Zhang Anzai didn't say much. They both knew that by tomorrow, after this night was over, Group 7 might no longer have a Zhang Anzai.

But since coming here, they had seen a group leader with a dog's head and experienced the eerie instances. They knew they had no other choice but to gradually get used to it.

The company didn't believe in tears. Only performance and attendance were eternal.

Zhang Anzai walked down a cold corridor and returned to his dorm room on the floor below.

The room was half the size of an ordinary studio apartment. It had only a single bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. It was so cramped that there wasn't even a chair, so he had to sit on the bed.

They had each been given a window, at least, but since joining the company, he'd never been in the mood to admire the view.

The company really did operate year-round. The dorms were inside the building, and if the instance they'd been guiding during the day hadn't ended, they had to keep working on it from their work computer after returning to their rooms.

For someone like Zhang Anzai, whose work time was almost up, there was no point going to bed. He had to put in extra hours.

He tossed the company-issued uniform jacket onto the bed, closed the door, and turned on the work computer to browse the employee store.

As artificial systems for the reincarnation game, this was their one supernatural perk. The store was divided into several pages, and they could buy things with the Employee Points earned by completing tasks.

He first checked the personal items section, which was full of strange, mysterious things, much like a player's shop.

There were Symbiotic Gu Insects that boosted stamina and temporarily enhanced physical strength, Ghost Tattoos in the shape of ox-headed and horse-faced underworld enforcers that could transform the body, and all sorts of bizarre enhancement items and equipment.

Their Dog-Head Team Leader had probably used some kind of item to turn himself into that.

But low-level employees like them couldn't even consider improving themselves. Most of them, like him, scrolled straight down to the personal supplies section.

"[Ox-Horse Marching Pill] (Provides enough nutrition to sustain 24 hours of work and temporarily suppresses fatigue and the desire to sleep.)"

"Price: 10 Employee Points."

It was after work hours. The company had an employee cafeteria, but most people, aside from senior employees like their team leader or a few top performers who'd achieved exceptional results, were just like him and used stuff like this to fill their stomachs.

This was already the upgraded version. The original Ox-Horse Pill didn't even have a stimulating effect; it simply provided nutrition.

Zhang Anzai swallowed the flavorless Ox-Horse Pill and switched to the work page.

This was where they spent most of their time.

The biggest difference between administrators like them and the task systems in ordinary games was that they could buy support items here to help players explore.

For example, the item they used most often: "[Level 1 Shadow Paper] (Can leave certain hints that don't involve key aspects of instance exploration, expressed as parables or verses, in no more than 20 characters.)"

"Price: 10 Employee Points."

Low-level employees like them could barely afford anything else.

But the players were all so useless that this item, along with other small supplies in the same price range, was practically pointless. That's why they said high ratings depended mostly on the players' abilities.

There were stronger support items, of course. If an administrator had enough money, they could even buy an Admin Proxy Talisman and teleport into an instance to help in person.

Never mind the cost. Low-level employees like them were no different from ordinary people. If they went in, they'd just be cannon fodder.

What Zhang Anzai had his eye on was something that might fundamentally change the situation.

"[Advanced Player Matching Order] (Matches you with a new player who has a Grade C or higher talent and opens an instance.)"

"Price: 100 Employee Points."

That's right. You had to seize your own work opportunities. Want a high rating? Just hand your wages back, and they'll match you with a rookie who's easier to guide.

After buying it, Zhang Anzai had only five points left, barely enough to do anything. But based on his experience so far, improving the player's abilities from the ground up was more likely to keep him alive than buying hints and supplies.

More importantly, he had only five hours left, and a medium- or long-length instance might take longer than that to complete. Among all the instances, only a rookie's beginner instance was guaranteed to be short, so this was his only option.

"[Advanced Player Matching Order] purchased and used. Waiting for a player to be successfully matched and a character to be created."

After seeing the notification, Zhang Anzai closed his eyes and waited.

"Ding!" A notification sound rang out. Zhang Anzai opened his eyes, only to realize it hadn't come from the computer. It was his phone.

The company had issued them work phones so they could keep working even when they weren't at their desks.

It was past ten at night. Any message at this hour was probably either a pointless work update or another round of barking from the higher-ups.

Zhang Anzai sighed and checked his phone, then froze.

On the home screen, alongside his work apps, there was a brand-new app.

Its icon was black and orange, with three large characters: [Ancient Shadow Record].

"What the hell! Did I become a player?!"