Rex stared at the floating interface in stunned silence.
"The fuck!?"
"Ahem…," he cleared his throat. He wasn't shocked because of the incredible rewards and limitless possibilities—no, no. That part was great. Amazing. It wasn't even the idea of being thrust into random careers every seven days.
No.
What really horrified him was the workload.
This… this function… this hellspawn of labor…!"
"This has to be a mistake."
He had one goal after being reborn: to live a stress-free, relaxing, carefree life. He didn't ask for fame. He didn't ask for chaos. He was fine with just being a rich second generation.
"I just wanted to lie down and be a carefree bastard," he muttered under his breath. "I've already done the whole hard working wage slave thing in my last life. I came into this life with a damn system, thinking I'd relax for once. Eat good food. Smell good. Look good. Maybe expose a corrupt professor here and there. You know—normal things."
