My Best Life My Pest Life

Your task is to crush the swarming BUGs on screen—lure them with bait, crush them, crush them, crush them, again and again... You must smoke and drink to keep your mind at peace. ――The year is 3xxx. The world has long slipped from humanity’s grasp, its very air particles consumed by the spread of Nanomachine-BUGs. From the safety of a distant zone, you must remotely strike down these endless BUGs, erasing them one by one to carve out the last remaining spaces for mankind. But— Your fingers

Your task is to crush the swarming BUGs on screen—lure them with bait, crush them, crush them, crush them, again and again... You must smoke and drink to keep your mind at peace. ――The year is 3xxx. The world has long slipped from humanity’s grasp, its very air particles consumed by the spread of Nanomachine-BUGs. From the safety of a distant zone, you must remotely strike down these endless BUGs, erasing them one by one to carve out the last remaining spaces for mankind. But— Your fingers are cold, the trigger feels unbearably heavy. Without a cigarette, without a drink, your hands tremble, your aim falters. The noise of the BUGs blankets the entire city, as if the world itself had turned against you. From afar, seated in isolation, you fight on alone. A truly dull, exhausting routine.