Nezha‘s KPIs

Nezha has been feeling troubled lately. Not because he's been bullied again, nor because the Dragon King is causing trouble again. But because he, the once-young hero who rode on wind and fire wheels, brandishing a fire-tipped spear, and quelled demons in the sea, is now suffocated by a "Quarterly Performance Assessment Form."

"Comrade Nezha, your popularity growth this quarter is below average, peripheral product sales have declined, and online discussion is showing a sluggish trend. According to the 'Immortal Civil Servant Performance Management Measures,' your salary will be reduced by one grade." Master Taiyi, stroking his beard, read the document in his hand with a grave tone, his voice filled with helplessness, as if he were the one being tormented by the performance assessment.

Nezha's head was spinning. He scratched his hair knots and said impatiently, "Master, I'm busy patrolling every day, fighting and killing those demons and monsters. How can I have time to manage any popularity values? Besides, those figurines and co-branded items were already handed over to the marketing department, weren't they? Why are they my responsibility again?"

"Ah," Master Taiyi sighed, "nowadays, we emphasize all-around development. You can't just be good at fighting. Look at Sun Wukong, he can not only fight, but also do live streaming and sell products. His traffic is soaring. You need to learn from him."

Nezha felt even more frustrated. He thought about how majestic he was when he made havoc in the Dragon Palace back then. Now, he has to be overwhelmed by these numbers. He tried live streaming, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word in front of the camera. The fans were indeed enthusiastic, calling him "Brother Nezha is so handsome," but they just wouldn't buy anything. He also tried posting short videos, but he either broke the props or had his shots stolen by Xiaotian Dog.

He began to doubt himself. Am I really out of date? Am I really not suitable for this era? Looking at himself in the mirror, with two hair knots, holding a fire-tipped spear, and a face full of worry, he suddenly felt like an old toy abandoned by the times, both boring and useless.

He decided to change. He started learning the tricks of popular videos and researched the topics that fans liked. He even went to an "Immortal Influencer Training Camp" to learn how to pose, how to speak, and how to create topics.

He felt like he was going crazy. He started having insomnia, lost his appetite, and even started questioning the meaning of his past sea-making rampage. He found that the demon-quelling and evil-eliminating that once made him passionate had now become a pile of meaningless data, and he had become a tool living for numbers.

In the blink of an eye, it was time for the quarterly assessment again. Nezha sat opposite Master Taiyi anxiously, waiting for the verdict. Master Taiyi opened the familiar form, stroked his beard again, and then, he pushed the old glasses on his nose, a strange smile appearing on his face.

"Comrade Nezha, this quarter, your popularity growth, peripheral product sales, and online discussion have all significantly increased. Especially in the 'Immortal COSPLAY Competition,' you successfully attracted countless eyes and broke several records with your 'Nezha Mech Version' appearance."

Nezha was stunned. He widened his eyes, unable to believe his ears. He had clearly done nothing, so how could his results be so good?

Master Taiyi smiled triumphantly, pointing to a small footnote on the report, which read: "This quarter's data was faked, completed automatically by the system, with the goal of encouraging the enthusiasm of the Immortals."

Nezha was completely dumbfounded. He looked at Master Taiyi and then at the absurd report. Suddenly, he felt that he wasn't just making havoc in the sea, but a ridiculous joke deeper than the ocean. He finally understood that he wasn't fighting with demons and monsters, but with an invisible, intangible system. He was just a tiny piece of data in this system. He felt like a puppet thrown into a washing machine, churned and kneaded over and over again, and he didn't even know what he had become in the end.

He looked out the window. The ordinary people he had once saved were still living their ordinary lives. He suddenly felt very tired, very tired. He thought, perhaps, he should also live an ordinary life like them, instead of being trapped by these damned numbers.

He got up and silently left Master Taiyi's office. He didn't go patrolling, didn't go live streaming, but found a quiet place, took out his fire-tipped spear, and started wiping it. He found that this weapon, which had once accompanied him in his battles, now seemed so unfamiliar.

He suddenly felt more like Shen Gongbao, except that he was even more miserable than Shen Gongbao because he couldn't even have a "ugly, strong, miserable" label.