Chapter One: Direct Hire Boss

Eliya stood before a massive mirror.

The silver-white metal frame was entwined with elaborate, intricate patterns that grew dizzying the longer one stared. The mirror’s surface gleamed spotless and new, reflecting a cold, imposing adult man. He had loosely tousled dark red hair draped over his shoulders, his features a blend of handsomeness and gloom, appearing to be around thirty. Beneath slightly furrowed brows, his eyes were a deep oceanic blue.

Several heavy chains extended from the edges of the mirror, snaking like serpents around Eliya’s outstretched right forearm. Man and mirror faced each other in silence, as if locked in some perilous standoff where life and death hung in the balance.

After a moment, Eliya seemed to reach a decision. He drew in a slow breath, lifted his right hand, and gripped the chain tightly. Instantly, the chain blazed with dazzling light. At the same time, lines of silver script gradually emerged on the mirror’s surface, responding to his movement. This script belonged to no human language, yet Eliya understood it clearly.

It read:

“Authentication successful.”
“Name: Eliya Esposito.”
“Identity: Keeper of the Book of Fate.”
“Tenure: Permanent.”
“Usage period: 0 years 0 months 0 days 0 hours 0 minutes 0 seconds of Earth calendar, Universe Center.”
“Important notice: Your last transaction was in the 20th Century AD. Your Book of Fate usage contract has expired. Please renew or transfer ownership promptly, or bear the consequences yourself…”

The earlier lines appeared crisp, as if printed on official documents, but the further down, the more blurred and twisted the script became, the layout chaotic, some segments doubled or blank. Beyond “bear the consequences,” only blinding silver-white light remained.

Eliya barely glanced down before looking away, knowing he could glean no further clues. This was far from his first encounter with this strange mirror—or more accurately, the Book of Fate. Once his identity was verified, he could not move, could not strike the mirror, nor could he leave the room with it. All he could do was follow the instructions, complete the transaction.

He said, “Renew.”

His brief, forceful voice reverberated in the empty chamber, like an iron hammer pounding a heavy door.

The words vanished from the mirror, replaced by new content.

A line of eye-catching gold script appeared:

“Countless tragic cases have proven that attempting to wield the Book of Fate is reckless, fraught with risk, and liable to bring unknown harm to you and all sapient life around you. Even so, do you still choose to pay the price and make a pact with the presence before you?”

Nonsense, Eliya thought. With the chain on his arm, and no one else present, did he have any other choice?

Impatiently, he replied, “Yes.”

The gold text faded, replaced by silver script, the letters nearly tangled together, as if scribbled in feverish excitement:

“Establishing contract.”
“Eliya Esposito, please select one of the following as the price to pay, as offered by the Book of Fate.”

Eliya quickly scanned the terms that appeared on the mirror and saw that only one was entirely legible.

There was no room for hesitation.

With a low, steady voice, he said, “Appearance.”

“Contract complete.”
“The Book of Fate will strip you of your appearance. In exchange, your usage rights have been renewed. Enjoy.”

Once the content was fully displayed, the glowing mirror gradually dimmed, the words fading away. The chains reluctant to leave, clung to Eliya’s arm, pressing against his muscles for a long moment before reluctantly receding to become mere ornamentation on the frame once more.

Eliya paid the chains no mind. The transaction was already taking effect. In the mirror, his reflected skin color rapidly drained from his face, swirling into a kaleidoscope of hues.

After a while, even the colorful vortex vanished. His face and all the exposed skin on his body turned the deepest black, as if doused with a paint bucket in a drawing program, erasing all shadows and contours. At this point, Eliya was transformed into a pitch-black, vaguely human figure. Only his hair, eyes, and pale sleepwear retained their original colors.

He regarded his new appearance in the mirror for a moment and, quite inappropriately, thought of the “shadowy culprit” from Conan, and found himself laughing.

At that moment, a slightly childish girl’s voice sounded behind him:

“Daddy… are you in a good mood today?”

Eliya turned.

The speaker was a girl of about eleven or twelve, with red hair and blue eyes, bearing a strong resemblance to his former appearance. She was crouched at the doorway, cautiously peering inside, her expression betraying unmistakable fear. However, it was not his faceless, pitch-black visage that frightened her.

Eliya glanced around. The so-called Book of Fate mirror had vanished without a trace, and the room’s details had shifted from a palace-like model to a stark, minimalist industrial style. He was standing in his own bedroom—or rather, the home in the metropolis belonging to his current identity.

The one who called him “dad” was not really his daughter by blood.

As for how all this came to be—that was a complex story to outsiders, but to Eliya, it was simply bewildering.

He was, in truth, a transmigrant.

Before coming to this world, Eliya had been an ordinary office drone—a not particularly successful one, at that. He had a harmless personality flaw. By 21st-century standards, he might be called socially anxious, though he felt “fear” was too strong; it was more a matter of “dislike.” Where some people found social interaction rejuvenating and relaxing, Eliya needed at least twenty-four hours to recover from the fatigue of a ten-minute conversation.

This flaw wasn’t fatal in daily life, but in most educational or work settings, it was deadly—never mind efficiency, the stress was enough to drive one into depression. Before his transmigration, Eliya’s oppressive presence in the office kept everyone at bay. A somewhat friendly colleague once commented:

“The look on your face when you walk in is as if your dog poops by your bed every morning, and the robot vacuum smears it everywhere.”

Stillness breeds change. Eventually, the pressure drove Eliya to his limit, and he resolved to quit and find a job that required no human contact.

Then, an HR officer, learning of his preferences, approached him, saying, “We can guarantee that no living creature will disturb you during work. There is no mandatory socializing in our company.”

No living creature—it sounded odd. Eliya couldn’t help but quip, “What about the dead ones?”

The HR, surprisingly accommodating, added, “Not even dead ones.”

Eliya took it as a joke and asked, “What would my responsibilities be?”

“Just simple clerical work.”

“Work hours?”

“Very flexible. Work when you wish, or not at all.”

“Work environment?”

“Exceptional. We even provide cuddly animal therapy. Do you prefer cats or dogs?”

“Dogs,” Eliya answered reflexively.

The HR smiled warmly. “How perfect! We have an adorable little dog in the office.”

Eliya wasn’t swayed, and brought up the real issue: “Perhaps we should discuss salary and benefits.”

“There’s no need to worry about that,” the HR replied calmly. “Others hire bosses directly; we hire presidents. Once you join, you’ll be our chairperson… our boss. All resources will be at your disposal.”

It was all too strange.

Eliya was long past believing in falling pies from the sky. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “Do I have some unique quality?”

“You possess the irreplaceable talent we need,” came the sincere reply. “If we fail to bring you in, my entire team and I will regret it for the rest of our lives.”

The HR’s earnestness and the legitimate-looking contract convinced Eliya to at least consider it. But before he could investigate this so-called “Life Seminar” any further, he transmigrated.

One blink, and he was standing before that mirror, his right arm bound by chains, in a room whose decor was anything but modern, utterly deserted.

Had there been others present, Eliya might have panicked, picturing bloody scenes from Hollywood crime thrillers.

But because he was alone, he remained unusually calm, studied his predicament, confirmed he had transmigrated, and concluded: he had to make a deal with the mirror, or be trapped there forever.

That was Eliya’s first contract with the Book of Fate. He became its Keeper, paying the price of… “life.”

It sounded abstract, but at the moment the contract was sealed, Eliya sensed something missing from his mind, replaced by something else. Even his appearance seemed to have changed beyond recognition, as though he’d become someone new entirely—a certain Eliya Esposito, a perfectly ordinary metropolitan resident.

He’d even acquired an adopted son in high school, and an adopted daughter supposedly out of school at home. Worse yet, judging by the living conditions and their clothes, Eliya Esposito was far from wealthy—his own red hair was unkempt, his beard scruffy, his daughter’s clothes ill-fitting, most household appliances clearly scavenged secondhand, and the fridge packed with near-expired discounted food.

Eliya suspected that without work, the three of them would starve to death in their slum within a week—discovered only when the neighbor caught the stench and called the police.

No wonder the Book of Fate called the price “life.” He hadn’t even married before being thrust straight into a midlife crisis. Who ever heard of a transmigration like this?

So, after only half a day at home, Eliya, with a keen sense of crisis, resolved under immense pressure to go out and find odd jobs—preferably those paying daily and not requiring diplomas or ID. He still wasn’t sure if he even had those things.