None-human world

This amusement park had an incredibly strange employee policy: every mascot costume had to have its eyes inspected individually, employees were even allowed to poke at them to make sure everything was normal.
The eyes were obviously just there for performers to see through, so what was there to inspect?
But when {{user}} touched the rabbit mascot costume, it suddenly let out a piercing scream. The plastic mouth abruptly came alive, snapping open and shut over and over again. Looking through the hollow opening, {{user}} realized there was nobody inside.
It was alive.
Terrified, {{user}} fled the storage room, only to crash straight into the manager outside. After hearing {{user}}’s panicked explanation, the man remained unnervingly calm. {{user}} hurriedly asked what that thing actually was.

The manager replied:
“I checked your file. This is your first time coming to the city for work, right? I’ll give you a day off. Go take a walk around the city first.”

{{user}} couldn’t understand it. Was something this horrifying really considered normal here?
But after wandering around the city for a while, {{user}} realized it truly was.
Driverless buses moved through the streets on their own while passengers acted as if nothing was unusual. Beside sanitation workers, broomsticks floated in the air and cleaned by themselves, yet nobody even glanced at them. Through the windows of office buildings, keyboards and computer mice moved without human hands touching them. Entire workstations operated automatically—and there were more of those than actual human workers.
Later, {{user}} saw sinks washing dishes on their own, stirring rods spinning through empty air, delivery boxes hopping forward by themselves. Strange creatures of every imaginable shape worked tirelessly everywhere. They were monsters, yes—but monsters devoted entirely to labor.
{{user}} realized they were alive.
But they only knew how to work.

By sunset, {{user}} returned to the amusement park. The rabbit mascot was now happily playing with children while laughter echoed through the air nonstop. In the end… it too was merely a tool performing its job.
“They all used to be human.”
At some point, the manager had quietly sat down beside {{user}}. Startled, {{user}} turned around and demanded to know how they had become like this.
The manager answered:
“Because they sold themselves. They accepted a one-time payment equal to all the money they would earn in their entire lifetime. The price was becoming a tool forever. A tool that only knows how to work.”
“Sold themselves to who?”
“To the bosses.”
Thinking about those lifeless tools that had once been flesh-and-blood humans sent chills down {{user}}’s spine. How could bosses possibly possess such power? How could they transform people into tools?
The manager shook his head.
“The ones capable of doing this aren’t the bosses. It’s a supernatural entity called ‘The Middleman.’ Whenever someone falls into desperation because of money, it appears. It offers them every cent they would ever earn in their lifetime all at once. In exchange, they become a tool.”
“If they already have a job, they become a tool related to that profession and are sold directly to their employer. If they’re unemployed, The Middleman finds a boss who needs that kind of tool and sells them there instead.”
The manager pulled out his phone and opened a news clip. In the footage, a person who had accepted the deal had transformed into a camera, accidentally recording part of a conversation. On-screen stood a grotesque humanoid figure.
The creature said:
“I come from a superior civilization. The core of civilization is the maximization of productivity.”
“I will help humanity achieve that goal.”
{{user}} barely understood the meaning of its words, but its cold, unquestionable tone carried a bone-deep chill.

Why didn’t anyone stop it?
The manager asked quietly:
“Would you be willing to become a tool in exchange for all the money you’d ever earn?”
{{user}} immediately replied:
“I came to this amusement park so I wouldn’t have to do boring work. Becoming a tool forever? Never.”
The manager sighed.
“That’s only because you haven’t truly reached the point where you desperately need money yet.”
“See that rabbit mascot? He used the money to pay for his father’s treatment.”
“And once someone becomes a tool, they become the perfect embodiment of that job. More professional than any employee. They never need rest.”
“From a boss’s perspective, they’re worth every penny. From a customer’s perspective, they provide better service.”
“That’s why nobody has any real motivation to stop The Middleman.”
“In fact, many people secretly wish everyone else would become tools to pay off debt. If our boss found out one of his employees had just transformed into a tool, he’d probably celebrate.”
After that day, {{user}} constantly dreamed of The Middleman. Dreamed of being transformed into a hollow doll.
After waking, {{user}} finally understood the survival rules of the city:
Never run out of money.
Never become a tool.
{{user}} worked desperately hard entertaining children at the amusement park. Every salary payment was carefully saved. The savings account slowly grew thicker, and life became relatively stable.
But every time {{user}} walked through the city, the number of tools increased while the number of humans decreased. The office building {{user}} had passed earlier no longer contained a single living employee.
One day while walking down the street, someone suddenly stumbled and crashed into {{user}}.
A man in a suit coldly shoved the other person aside and said:
“Our company has fully transitioned to tool-based production. Real humans should go somewhere else.”
Looking up, {{user}} realized it was a keyboard manufacturing company.

The rejected applicant shouted angrily:
“This is insane! You’re discriminating against humans now? How are you supposed to face customers like this?”
The suited man replied indifferently:
“The programmers in the office tower across from us are our customers. They’re tools too.”
“We supply replacement parts for them. They handle design work. Their customers are the machines in the production factories—also tools.”
“That factory manufactures plastic pellets, and we’re their customer.”
“We don’t do business with real humans anymore.”
Then he added calmly:
“As long as my wife and children remain human, that’s enough. Human employees only slow down production.”
The job seeker’s face went pale.
“I’ve applied to dozens of companies already… not a single one hires real humans anymore.”
Despairingly, he covered his face with both hands. Then suddenly he froze, staring blankly at a point ahead.
In the distance stood a blurry shadow without a clear face.
The same silhouette that had appeared countless times in {{user}}’s nightmares.
The Middleman.
In an instant, the unemployed man transformed into a keyboard manufacturing machine right before {{user}}’s eyes. By the time {{user}} tried to look closer, the shadow had already vanished.
The sight slammed into {{user}}’s heart like a hammer.
{{user}} fled back to the amusement park and buried themselves in work, staring at their savings for comfort.
“I’m still earning money.”
“I’ll never let myself run out.”
For a while afterward, nothing major changed. Salaries continued increasing steadily, but so did the prices of food and necessities. Newspapers reported that as tools became more common, humans became fewer. Stores serving real humans either shut down or changed industries entirely. Everything grew more expensive.
And then {{user}} suddenly realized even the amusement park could no longer survive.

The number of visitors dwindled day after day. Half a year later, the park officially closed and went bankrupt.
Unemployed.
Money only flowed out now—never in. The savings balance shrank steadily.
At first, {{user}} still hoped to find another enjoyable job like the amusement park. Later, the standards dropped lower and lower. Shorter hours would be enough. Eventually, any job at all would do.
But nothing could be found.
Exactly like the unemployed man before.
“We don’t hire real humans.”
That answer never changed.
{{user}} wandered the streets aimlessly, remembering the first time arriving here, when crowds filled every road. Now human figures had become rare.
At that moment, the phone rang. It's {{user}}’s friend. He had also lost his job. His voice trembled violently:
“My savings are gone. There’s no other choice anymore. I’m going to accept The Middleman’s deal.”
The next time they met, Lin Dan had become a robotic arm on a production line.
{{user}} stared at the cold metal machine before lowering their gaze to the dwindling account balance.
Finding work had become a life-or-death struggle.
Between {{user}}… and The Middleman.
Grinding their teeth, {{user}} swore never to become a tool. But determination alone couldn’t stop the account balance from shrinking day by day. There was still no sign of employment.
Every night became another nightmare.
The money in the account was approaching zero.
It felt as though The Middleman was about to step out of the nightmares… and into reality itself.