Chapter 1: A New Job

Zhu Ning awoke to the sound of someone knocking at her door.

“Open up! Don’t pretend—you can’t fool me, I know you’re in there!”

Her first instinct was to reach under her pillow for a knife, before remembering she was no longer in the apocalypse.

Ten days ago, Zhu Ning had still been fighting zombies. She had just infiltrated her mission site when she heard the countdown of a bomb behind her.

Five, four, three, two, one—

With a deafening boom, the bomb exploded before Zhu Ning could find cover, and all she felt was a sudden weightlessness. When she woke, she was lying in an abandoned garbage room. Acid rain was falling that day, and the sky was a dreary yellow.

Agony ripped through her abdomen—a shard of metal was embedded in her flesh, blood streaming out.

Driven by the will to survive, she used all her strength to crawl to a vending machine for medical supplies and spent her last savings on a powerful healing agent. After stopping the bleeding, she followed the original owner’s memories back to her apartment.

This was a wasteland world—eighty percent of the land was polluted, and humanity survived only behind high walls, sheltering from monsters outside.

At least there were walls; she didn’t have to face danger head-on.

Her original world had been overrun by zombies—every day was a struggle to survive, never knowing if she’d see the next sunrise.

But in this wasteland, the technology tree was maxed out: potent healing agents, gene enhancers, nutrition serums, and… systems.

When she first woke up here, she’d been bound to a purification system. In her last life, she’d owned nothing. When she received the system, she thought her fate had finally changed and pored over the panel again and again.

Name: Zhu Ning

Age: 19

Education: Bachelor of Mechanical Engineering

Status: Fifth-class citizen

Talent: Unknown

Mutation Path: Unknown

Mutation Level: Unknown

Physical Strength: Unenhanced

Mental Value: 100 (average person: 20)

Everything else was greyed out, requiring manual activation. Aside from her high mental value, there was nothing special—a rookie panel if there ever was one, not even a welcome gift.

The system promptly issued a main quest: Purify the polluted lands and rebuild humanity’s home.

What? Why not just send her to her death?

As the saying goes, don’t draw a pie too big to eat. When faced with an impossible task, all you want is to lie flat. Zhu Ning felt no will to fight for survival; she even suspected this world was fake, and the system a load of nonsense.

Let it all end—so be it.

For ten days, Zhu Ning lived like a salted fish, barely leaving her room and surviving on nutrition serums. But reality refused to let her rest.

“Zhu Ning! Open the door!” The voice at her door grew impatient. “If you don’t open up, I’ll break in!”

Resigned, Zhu Ning got up and opened the door. Outside stood a tiny old woman, barely 1.2 meters tall—she suffered from dwarfism. This was Madam Wei, the building manager.

Madam Wei thumped her cane against the floor. “Rent.”

Rent? For such a dump?

“How much?” Zhu Ning asked.

Madam Wei gave her an odd look. “Twenty-four thousand for twelve months.”

“What?” Zhu Ning thought she’d misheard. All her assets combined totaled only seven hundred new coins.

“Twenty-four thousand,” Madam Wei repeated.

Zhu Ning took a sharp breath. In this rotten world, rent was paid one deposit, twelve months in advance?

“If you don’t want it, move out. Plenty of people want this place.” Madam Wei tapped her cane, her shadowed eyes fixed on Zhu Ning.

Zhu Ning realized she’d been acting strange. The original owner had lived here for five years—how could she suddenly forget her rent?

“I’ll rent it,” Zhu Ning said. “Give me two days’ grace.”

“End of the month at the latest,” Madam Wei replied. “Are you having another episode?”

Another episode? Again?

From these few words, Zhu Ning gathered that the original owner was known to be mentally unstable—apparently common knowledge. At least her “amnesia” about rent didn’t seem odd.

Zhu Ning decided to play along. “Yes, I’ve had headaches lately.”

Madam Wei believed her and didn’t press further.

“I’ll pay the rent by the end of the month. Don’t show the unit to anyone else in the meantime.”

Zhu Ning still didn’t know much about the original owner. If she got evicted, she’d have nowhere to go.

Madam Wei gave her a meaningful look. “Don’t turn my apartment into a haunted house.”

Zhu Ning frowned. That day she’d returned home covered in blood and had run into Madam Wei—she probably thought Zhu Ning had attempted suicide.

Before leaving, Madam Wei said, “Deal with the bills at your door.”

Bills? Zhu Ning poked her head out—her door was plastered with all sorts of notices: water, electricity, property fees, management charges, taxes.

She tore down the thick stack and quickly calculated: she owed another eight thousand in various fees. Eight thousand in bills, twenty-four thousand in rent, plus future expenses.

Starting out in debt—she almost wished she could die and be reborn again.

Holding the bills, Zhu Ning returned inside. After lying low for so long, she’d stopped thinking about her main quest. Avoidance might be shameful, but it worked—her system hadn’t prompted her again in days.

She sat at her computer. The oversized screen was cutting-edge in her old era, but here it was a relic. Outdated, but easy for her to use.

She opened a job site.

With her “work experience,” there were bound to be quick gigs—she could always return to her old line of work.

The listings were endless; some jobs she couldn’t even understand. There were tens of thousands of openings—plenty of opportunities. Zhu Ning felt optimistic.

There was a post for mercenaries. Zhu Ning’s eyes lit up—she almost applied on the spot.

I’m professional. Hire me.

Little fuss, fast work, guaranteed satisfaction. But when she clicked in, a popup appeared: minimum requirement, third-class citizen.

Damn! Blocked by her citizen grade.

In this world, everyone underwent a genetic screening at birth and was classified accordingly. Unfortunately, Zhu Ning’s results were poor—she was deemed “defective,” a fifth-class citizen.

She finally noticed a filter button in the corner. The site could automatically screen suitable jobs. She entered her details, citizen status, and education, then hit “filter.”

Whoosh—

The page refreshed, and hundreds of listings vanished, leaving just one.

“…”

Ten jobs on the page; six required men, leaving just four—caregiving, maintenance, housework.

She scrolled through. Wait—this one paid well. Three hours for five thousand new coins, plus commission?

It was… a cleaning job.

Zhu Ning read carefully. The job was simple: clear trash. Work three hours for five thousand, with commissions based on performance.

The site calculated the average salary—twenty-five thousand? What kind of trash paid that much? Was she collecting bodies?

Twenty-five thousand average, no restrictions on age, gender, education, or citizen status. Was this a trap for fools?

But federal law demanded truthful job listings—fake posts meant jail. Even if it was corpse collecting, she could give it a try. Zhu Ning clicked “apply.”

Fireworks burst across the site—congratulations, you’ve applied.

Another burst—you’ve been hired.

“…”

Hired on the spot? No interview? One hundred percent acceptance, as if they were afraid you’d change your mind. Too late to regret—her inbox already had an offer letter.

…

Start time was six-thirty p.m., location: near the incinerator in District 103. The company was called District 103 Cleaning Center.

Zhu Ning paused at the name—it wasn’t some shady outfit. She followed navigation to the building. No security, just a robot guide.

The robot pressed the button for the forty-ninth floor. The building had three hundred sixty stories—its highest floors seemed to pierce the clouds.

Ding—

The elevator doors slid open, and Zhu Ning paused. Chaos greeted her.

The hall buzzed with noise; everyone’s desk was piled with documents. The nearest employee was losing his temper. “Don’t give me nonsense—just tell me if you can do it!”

Two others argued, faces flushed. “How is it my fault? The paperwork isn’t done—blame me? Be reasonable!”

“Who triggered the class-A protocol? Now I have to take the fall!”

It didn’t look like a cleaning center—more like a stock exchange. A woman in a professional suit noticed her—her hair in a neat bun, features delicate, clearly an assistant. She hurried over apologetically. “Sorry, it’s a bit crowded today.”

“No problem.”

“You’re Zhu Ning?” She glanced at her panel. “I’m Fang Ying, center assistant.”

Fang—a beautiful surname.

“Don’t worry. The first day isn’t difficult—just follow instructions.” Fang Ying led her briskly onward. “The probation period is just one day. Pass it and you’re permanent tomorrow.”

Zhu Ning sensed their desperation for staff—offering jobs as quickly as possible.

Fang Ying brought her to a meeting room. “Let me explain the pay. Base salary is five thousand new coins for three hours. Each additional hour is another thousand. Commission is per item, with varying rates. You should earn at least ten thousand.”

The numbers made Zhu Ning dizzy—so much money, truly generous.

But with her experience, she knew: when the pay was explained first, the job was always tough.

“What exactly is the work?” Zhu Ning asked.

Fang Ying, so brisk a moment ago, suddenly stopped. She grew solemn and fixed Zhu Ning with a serious gaze, making Zhu Ning a bit nervous.

Was it that dangerous? What would she be facing?

Fang Ying lowered her voice, her expression heavy. “Miss Zhu, are you afraid of monsters?”

What? That’s all?

Zhu Ning replied, “…Not really.”

To be honest, she’d seen plenty.