Jiji stood frozen in the dim little storage room, staring at the mop leaning against the wall as though it were a venomous snake. His chest tightened, panic rising like a tide he couldn't hold back. His palms grew clammy, and his breath came in shallow bursts.
No. No. No. This can't be happening again.
He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't… I can't do this again," he whispered to himself.
Memories rushed back like a flood.
The fluorescent hum of the office lights. The endless ringing of a call center phone. The heavy thud of delivery boxes against his spine. His supervisor's voice barking orders. The sweat dripping down his back as he scrubbed restrooms. The suffocating cycle of alarms, commutes, timecards, and overtime.
Every day had been the same. He had lived like a machine, clocking in, clocking out, eating the same bland meals, working until his soul was too tired to think. Beep. Swipe your ID. Ding. Punch out. The rhythm of a life not lived but drained.
It had been so boring. So suffocating.
He had endured it only by escaping into his imagination. While his mop squeaked against dirty tiles, he had pretended to be a paladin cleansing demonic taint. When his hands scrubbed tables sticky with grease, he imagined he was polishing relics in some ancient temple. At times, when his arms ached from lifting crates, he saw himself as a warrior carrying his fallen brothers from the battlefield.
Holy Paladin. Heroic Knight. Wandering Mage. In his mind, he had been everything except what he really was—another nameless worker in an endless line of workers.
And he had died like that. Crushed, forgotten, hit by a damn truck.
Wasn't this world supposed to be his escape? His chance to forget? To finally break free from that cycle? Yet here he was again, standing in front of another mop, a wooden bucket, and the stink of cheap soap. His lips trembled as he laughed bitterly.
"Is this some kind of joke? Did the Heavens seriously reincarnate me just to mop again?!"
His vision blurred as he shook his head. He felt so tired, as if the exhaustion of two lives weighed down on his shoulders. But then, after several long breaths, he forced himself to stand straight. His voice was hoarse but steady.
"…But how can I complain? It's just work. I've done it before. I can do it again."
He let out a low sigh. "If I grit my teeth and endure, maybe I can climb up. Maybe this time I'll work my way to the top. If I can't be a cultivator now, maybe I can at least return to being a young master. Somehow."
His hands trembled as he reached for the mop. The wood was cool beneath his fingers, its surface worn smooth by years of use. His grip tightened.
And then—
Everything froze.
The air itself stilled. The faint drip of water in the bucket halted mid-splash. Dust hung suspended in the beam of light seeping through the wooden cracks. The room had become a painting, motionless and soundless.
"What… what the hell is going on?" Jiji muttered, wide-eyed.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Then—
Fwooom.
A light appeared. It hovered in front of him, pale at first, then growing brighter. Jiji stumbled back, nearly tripping over the bucket. His arms shot up to shield his face.
The light pulsed, then slowly stretched, sparking with crackling threads that bent and twisted until they formed lines—thin blue strokes burning into the air. The lines bent, connected, and suddenly—shiiing!—a box of glowing blue light appeared.
Jiji's jaw dropped. "No way…"
Inside the box, faint sparks danced before arranging themselves into words. His chest heaved as he squinted, and then—
DING!
The sound rang in his mind.
Congratulations!
You have received the 9 to 5 System!
Jiji's eyes widened to the size of saucers. His lips parted. "Wait—what?! A system?!"
The words continued to appear, glowing brighter with each line.
Because you have lived your past life with relentless dedication, never yielding despite endless suffering, working tirelessly through countless 9 to 5 jobs…
Because you endured tedium, repetition, and exhaustion that would break weaker souls, yet still carried on…
Because you embraced labor, though it was forced upon you, and survived without surrender…
You, Tan Jiji, have earned the recognition of the Supreme of All Supreme Existence.
As a result, you are granted the one and only: 9 to 5 Labor System!
The words kept flowing, endless, wrapping around him like chains of light.
From this day forth, every task you labor at—every mop pushed, every floor scrubbed, every box lifted—shall reward you with strength. Each job, each shift, each sweat-drenched hour shall become your path to power.
This time will not be the last time. For each act of labor you endure, you shall be rewarded with growth!
The box pulsed with finality before delivering one last bright line.
Congratulations again, Host. Your journey begins now.
Jiji stood still, staring blankly at the glowing words as though his brain had short-circuited. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.
"I… I have a system," he whispered, almost reverently. Then, louder, "Shit, I actually have a system!"
His heart leapt in disbelief, but almost immediately, his excitement sputtered. His eyes locked onto the words "9 to 5 Labor System."
"The fuck?" His face twitched. "This is what I get? Out of all the systems—God Slayer, Immortal Path, Heaven's Chosen—I get stuck with a… a labor system? A nine-to-five system?!"
He dragged his hand down his face. "So basically, I'm destined to mop floors… but gain muscles for it? To scrub toilets… and level up? To suffer overtime… and become stronger?"
For a moment, he just stood there, speechless. Then he laughed hollowly. "Unbelievable. Just when I thought I'd escaped the grind, Heaven smacks me in the face with another job contract."
He shook his head. His chest ached with a strange guilt. "I didn't work 9 to 5 jobs because I loved them. I worked because I had no choice. Because if I didn't, I couldn't eat. And now some… Supreme Existence or whatever decided to reward me by making me do it again?"
He sighed long and hard. "Well… so be it. At least this time, the grind has rewards."
Suddenly, the light pulsed again.
DING!
Reminder: Missions may appear at any time during working hours. Acceptance is optional. Completing missions will yield additional rewards. Failure to work diligently may result in penalties.
Host, please remember: Work hard. Work smart. Work forever.
The words faded, one by one, until the glowing box vanished entirely.
The room was still again. The air rushed back. Water splashed softly into the bucket.
Jiji staggered back a step, his heart pounding in his throat. He stared at the empty air where the system screen had floated moments ago.
"…What the hell did I just sign up for?"