Life can be very cruel to some people. Some never have the fortune of feeling the love of a family, while others have debts to the world that slowly consume their lives and time.
When Hisagi entered the building without anyone stopping him, he realized something was seriously wrong here. Money is life, and with it, we survive. Each person works and earns in different ways, but there is a group of people who have to work 8 hours just to buy a single piece of meat.
Looking at these people, whose faces lacked any sign of vitality, each one stared blankly at their computer screens as if they were deprived of emotions—something even worse than a slave.
And all of these people kept working non-stop, even though their working hours had long since ended. Though Hisagi saw everything this way, he could clearly feel the dissatisfaction of every single one of them.
Obviously, no one wants to work overtime just for the sake of it. Everyone was pushing themselves to work overtime out of necessity, which led to a psychological aversion to it. But despite how they felt, they kept working.
It felt strange but made more sense than it seemed. It was as if their bodies needed water, but they refused to drink it, as though they were controlled by their minds, putting body and mind at odds with each other. A clear example of this is rabies, where, in advanced stages, those afflicted avoid water even if they crave it.
"Can I help you with something?" A peaceful voice broke the silence, and Hisagi turned his head to see who it was. A well-dressed man with square glasses smiled at him.
"Oh, no, I'm just visiting the place," Hisagi smiled. He noticed the badge hanging from the man's neck, identifying him as the general manager, and his demeanor seemed like that of a full-fledged official.
The bespectacled manager looked Hisagi up and down and said with an assertive smile, "You must be a first-year university student. You can always intern at our company. Do you see how pleasant this work environment is?"
The manager gestured towards the hard-working employees, proudly smiling.
But Hisagi felt a chill when he saw this man's smile. He sensed that none of the people here were normal.
"Not for now. I'm just checking the place out in case it interests me in the future. I don't want to take up more of your time, so you can feel free to ignore me," Hisagi clarified his stance without outright refusing. It wasn't surprising that others thought he was a university student, given how developed his appearance was. But that was secondary. Right now, what mattered to him was what was happening in this company.
"Alright, you're welcome to visit anytime you like. If you change your mind, you can come to me at any time," the manager seemed satisfied with Hisagi's response, smiling and nodding before walking away.
Hisagi found a rest area where he could observe the employees working. It was called a rest area, but no one ever rested here, and very few even came to drink water.
He watched as time passed slowly, and outside, the sky had completely darkened. From 6:30 PM to 8 PM, only three or four people left for home, while dozens of others kept working overtime.
This was only one department, and Hisagi assumed the other departments were similar—nearly everyone was working overtime.
At that moment, a middle-aged man, who didn't seem to be in a good mood, walked into the rest area. Hisagi thought he was here to rest and finish work, but who knew that after drinking a glass of water, the man would immediately return to working overtime?
"Wait a minute!" Hisagi shouted, and suddenly the middle-aged man snapped out of it, his eyes lighting up.
"I don't want to work overtime anymore; I have to get out of here; I can't do this anymore!" The middle-aged man showed a look of fear as he came to his senses.
He clutched his face with his hands, his gaze turning crazed as his fingernails dug into the skin of his palms, causing blood to ooze out.
"What is happening in this place?" Hisagi had already sensed that this overtime work wasn't purely voluntary, but he hadn't expected it to be like this.
Can someone work overtime in such a state? Can it even be called work? It's more like being a beast, toiling endlessly to make money for the boss.
"I have to get out of here, hurry, hurry." The middle-aged man bit his lip, terror etched across his face. He didn't listen to Hisagi's words and ran out of the rest area.
However, what happened next shocked Hisagi. As soon as the man left the rest area, his eyes glazed over again. In an instant, he walked back to his desk and resumed working.
At that moment, Hisagi sensed the presence of a powerful Cursed Spirit, a black-purple aura swirling around the middle-aged man.
"Looks like there might be some action tonight..." Hisagi chose to ignore the man's behavior for now and continued sitting in the rest area, watching what unfolded in the company.
Time flew by. It was already past 10 PM, and there were a third fewer people working than at 8 PM.
The remaining two-thirds were at least 30 years old, and none of them seemed to be in a good mood.
As time went on, the resentment in the air grew so thick that even Hisagi could feel it.
When midnight came, only a third of the people remained in the office. The grievances among them were the heaviest, almost reaching their peak.
Hisagi no longer knew how to solve this problem. After twelve hours of work, this couldn't be considered mere overtime anymore—it was no longer human.
There was a green sign on the wall of the work area that said "Voluntary Overtime." How ironic those words felt now.
[A cursed spirit has appeared near your position; please provide it eternal rest!]
"Right now?" Hisagi slowly stood up. In the distance, a blue figure appeared next to the overtime workers.
Every time it passed by an employee working overtime, it opened its mouth to absorb their grievances and energy. Eventually, the last employee could no longer hold on and collapsed on their desk.
Their eyes bulged, cheeks sunken, pupils dilated, filled with horror and unwillingness, lying motionless on the keyboard without making a sound.
It was no different from the employees who had died here before. Even if an autopsy was performed, the cause would be labeled as death from overwork, with no other explanations.
Just as the blue shadow was about to leave, Hisagi stepped forward, holding a wooden staff, tapping it on the ground every two seconds. "A very clever Cursed Spirit. I never imagined you'd have a system to absorb the grievances of these employees... With hundreds or maybe thousands of them, if you absorb all that resentment, just how strong will you become?"
"Can you see me?" The blue shadow became clear, but its color changed to purple. It was a cursed spirit in human form, but it had no eyes, nose, or ears, only a mouth that seemed sewn shut.
The body was exceptionally strong, with well-defined muscular lines, and the eight-pack abs were clearly visible. If its head and skin color were to change, it would be a miracle in the bodybuilding industry.
Compared to the unconscious overtime workers on the side, this figure was entirely like a creature from a different world.
"A Jujutsu master?" The purple cursed spirit calmly looked at Hisagi and softly said in a deep voice, "Not a few sorcerers have come here, but since their predecessors all disappeared, the number of Jujutsu masters who come to this place has been dwindling. In the last two months, you are the first."
Hisagi frowned as soon as he heard those words; with each passing second, the cursed spirit increased its cursed pressure. This was definitely not a first-class cursed spirit, but a special-grade one, a powerful existence that could only belong to that group.
"It's no wonder there are thousands of people throughout the company for so long here. If you inhale complaints and energy every day, your growth level is almost unlimited. It seems no one has taken care of you for a long time; perhaps you are too intelligent to protect yourself all this time."
Hisagi initially thought he could gain some benefits by coming here, but now it seemed very difficult to leave without a fight. He thought it was a second or first-level cursed spirit wreaking havoc in this place; he never imagined it was a special class.
If a cursed spirit of this category is in this place and no Jujutsu sorcerer has been able to exorcise it, how many people have died in a month without anyone noticing?
However, once a cursed spirit of this class is detected, at least three or four first-level Jujutsu masters are needed to deal with this kind of monster, or a special-grade one, which are rare to find active.
But knowing that sorcerers have been in decline in recent years, there are not many with the capabilities and time to come to this site. There are many more important things to do; some even directly refuse to deal with such powerful existences.
"Well, at least I'll give it a try." A flame shone brightly from Hisagi's eyes, and his powerful soul energy exploded within him, suppressing the cursed energy that was slowly pushing him back. Cracks spread out from where he was sitting, and his sword, which was sealed in his wooden staff, was released, revealing a beautiful katana with its purple magic. "According to my duty in this world to end the most powerful existences that only create evil, I condemn you to death, and you will be exorcised."