Full-Time Transmigration
Qi Xi is a full-time traverser. His job is to travel across countless worlds, doing everything he can to seize the essence of each realm. Once he brings it back, he hands it over to his employers—the gods themselves. Apparently, these deities use the essence to craft various movie, novel, and anime worlds, then select humans through all sorts of bizarre methods to enter these realms, watching them struggle and fight for survival, all for their own amusement. This job comes with full benefits, including health and social security. As for the salary—well, the more you bring back, the more you earn. Every essence retrieved can be exchanged for points, and points can buy anything you desire within the gods’ domain. You can even purchase cheat abilities or powerful allies, making you unstoppable in other worlds. Points can also be used to buy tickets to enter movie worlds and take part in entertainment events. I am Qi Xi. This is my story—a truly remarkable tale. Don’t miss it.
Full-Time Transmigration
The light in the room was somewhat dim.
A sturdy man, gripping a fire axe, stood by the door. He opened it just a crack and carefully peered through the gap to observe the outside. His breathing was uneven, evidently from recent exertion, but he strained to control it, mindful not to make a sound. Any noise could alert the zombies outside—and then they would be doomed.
Through that sliver in the door, he could just make out the street: blood everywhere, torn flesh, viscera, brain matter—a hellish tableau, alive and real in this world. Occasionally, one or two zombies wandered by, searching for living, edible prey.
“Damn it…” the sturdy man muttered under his breath, then quietly closed and secured the door.
“Are they still not awake?” he turned, asking cautiously.
An ordinary-looking woman nodded. Beside her lay two young men.
“They actually fainted from fright? Is that really necessary?” A portly man adjusted his glasses with disdain and tightened his grip on a kitchen knife. “Men like that? Just dead weight!”
“Keep your voice down, Fatty,” the sturdy man frowned, striding over. He thought he saw movement from one of the unconscious youths—was it a trick of the eye? No, he was sure someone had stirred, so he came to check.
One of the young men had a handsome face, but thin lips and a hooked nose lent him a somewhat mean look that inspired dislike. His brows twitched, and suddenly he opened his eyes wide, scanning the room warily. “Who are you?”
Besides himself, the others in the room included the person lying next to
