I am a demonic cultivator, not a capitalist with a conscience.

Chapter 67 I Must Go to the Factory Immediately (23)

The Tianyuan Cultivator Committee is the official organization of Tianyuan responsible for managing cultivators. It is headed by a president, with one executive vice president and five other vice presidents in charge of different aspects.

Below the vice president, there are departments composed of committee members and assistants, which are responsible for and carry out different tasks.

Zhong Zheng is just a junior assistant in the cultural department.

Nominally an assistant, but in reality just a laborer.

Trapped in a dark and gloomy office every day, living a life of 30 hours a day like a beast of burden.

Tianyuan's cultural industry is underdeveloped, and it is often forced to consume the garbage produced by those self-proclaimed masters of dream-making.

Not only did he have to eat, but he also had to write down his suggestions for improvement and recommendations, which made him feel particularly nauseous.

Some obviously irregular dreams need to be handed over to the supervisory authorities for handling. After all, good things should be shared, and we shouldn't let ourselves be disgusted by them alone.

However, this job isn't without its advantages. You can see the works of dream architects from other cities, and if you're lucky, you can even find some dreams that have broken through the regional restrictions, so you can sneak around and play for a while.

Unfortunately, I wasn't lucky today and didn't get anything good.

Looking at the remaining work, Zhong Zheng yawned, feeling that he probably wouldn't be able to finish it if he didn't hurry up.

With no other option, he took out his magical artifact, the Emperor's Banner, replenished it with magical power, and then simply slit his own throat.

He collapsed to the ground, but then got up cursing and swearing. A Holy Spirit, summoned from the banner of the human emperor, entered his body and began to help him deal with the remaining problems.

He could rest for a while near the Emperor's Flag, play with the dreams he had accumulated, eat a couple of sticks to replenish his energy, and then continue working overtime after he had rested enough.

Ghost cultivation is that convenient.

Those detained by the Emperor's Banner are all wicked criminals. After being arrested, they are detained by the Emperor's Banner. When things get busy, they can be pulled out to do some work, thus reducing their sentences.

With this technique, he can make his physical body and primordial spirit work simultaneously, extending his daily working hours to 30 hours, with the possibility of further extension.

With an incense stick dangling from his lips, he sat to one side, opened his phone, and looked at the dazzling array of dreams displayed on it, saying, "What should I play today?"

“Anyway, they’re not your parents.” The Holy Spirit, forced to work, stared at the screen of the Spirit Brain.

Unfurling the Emperor's Banner, Zhong Zheng engulfed the opponent, gently roasting him until he was half-cooked, then added half a month to his sentence, and replaced him with a new Holy Spirit to do the work.

The newcomer, smelling the fragrance in the air, obediently turned on his work phone, started playing with junk dreams, and wrote reviews for these dreams.

Zhong Zheng spent half a day choosing a dream, but couldn't find one he wanted to play.

He put his phone aside, looked at the ceiling, and sighed, "It's over, I'm done for."

The Holy Spirit, who was working, couldn't help but chime in, "Isn't it obvious? If you look in the mirror at your dead face, you'll wither faster than a night-blooming cereus."

After taking the Holy Spirit, Zhong Zheng sent the other person to the sewing machine to be sewn into a mop, and then threw him into the toilet to reflect on his actions.

The Holy Spirit has been so rebellious lately.

With the new Holy Spirit in place, Zhong Zheng looked at the dreamscape devoid of any desire and sighed that he was finally about to retire.

Although he looks only twenty years old, it is actually because he died young, and his body is forever frozen at the age of eighteen.

Fortunately, he had some talent for being a ghost, and after his death, he was exceptionally admitted to Fengdu University, becoming a glorious ghost cultivator.

However, he didn't want to take the temple priest exam or work for the star lord, so he never received the ordination and remained at the Qi Refining Perfection stage.

Ghost cultivators feed on desires, and when those desires cease, they vanish into thin air.

Feeling himself fading away, Zhong Zheng sighed and began writing his will. "The Executive Vice President is an idiot and a scoundrel, and the Vice President of Culture is a scoundrel and an idiot. You have nightmares every night because I enter your dreams and scare you every day. I hope my successor will continue to do so."

"The chairman is a good person, just a little too kind. I suggest you kill a few people every day, starting with my superiors."

"Don't cremate my body. Use it to make magical artifacts. In the summer, use it as an ice pack; in the winter, when it's frozen solid, use it as a table. Every little bit helps. Once it rots, just throw it away."

"The dream weavers of Tianyuan are all idiots, with a few exceptions, who are complete idiots."

"And... oh, time's up."

Looking at his disappearing lower body, Zhong Zheng was a little annoyed.

There are still so many people who haven't criticized me, and now I'm about to disappear. Isn't that a regret?

Unfortunately, Tianyuan never recovered until the very end, and we can only place our hopes on the wisdom of future generations.

Just as Zhong Zheng was fading away, leaving only his head, the Holy Spirit, who had taken over his body, saw a new message and read it aloud: "There is a new dream called 'My Factory'."

"Do whatever you want," Zhong Zheng said with his eyes closed.

"Alright, then I'll just write whatever comes to mind. Dear Mr. Morning Light, your dream..."

Zhong Zheng suddenly opened his eyes.

His spirit stabilized, everything below his neck returned, and he regained strength in his legs.

He deleted his will with a single click, kicked his own body, expelling the Holy Spirit from within, and then the Holy Spirit reclaimed his body.

After downloading the dream of the morning light to his phone, he felt no longer weak, had hope for life, and even found passion in his ghostly existence.

"I live to play in the dream of dawn."

He noticed the dream weaver from the very first dream the other person had, "The Mysterious Immortal's Dream".

The other party's ideas are wildly imaginative, and the dreams they create cover a wide range of topics. Their concepts and ideas for creating dreams are different from the current mainstream, but they are all very interesting.

He couldn't wait to download the dream to his phone and immediately immersed himself in it to experience the world inside.

One hour……

Two hours...

Three hours……

When he came to his senses, the precious three hours had already vanished in his dream, but he had no regrets.

His previous dejected mood had completely disappeared, and now his eyes were full of passion, and his body was burning hot as if it were on fire.

Looking into the distance, he said firmly, "I must set off now!"

"What are we going to do?" the Holy Spirit, who had been kicked out, asked from the side.

"Go to the factory to tighten screws! And then meet my factory girl!"

"You are sick, aren't you?"

Zhong Zheng gave this "Holy Spirit" a cold look, his gaze as icy as if he were looking at some old-fashioned demon: "I don't want to talk to someone like you who's never worked in a factory. Anyway, I'm going to go tighten screws now! I'm going to build my factory, and I'm going to meet my factory girls!"

"...You're really sick."

(End of this chapter)