Your paycheck is delayed. Your bills are not.

Welcome to Rainport, where your landlord charges for opening the door and customer support is another printer.

You are Friday, an office worker whose paycheck has been scheduled for next Friday. Again. To get it back, you need proof of employment, proof of address, and proof that you are still alive. All three departments charge a processing fee.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Kill Line is a short-run, 2D roguelike deckbuilder about surviving a very expensive week—and finding a way to make the system answer to its own rules.

One turn. One card. Several future problems.

Block a bill with a noodle budget. Borrow from next week. Keep a receipt that suddenly becomes very useful.

You can play just one card each turn. Hold a card for later, shape your deck between encounters, and decide which problem needs solving now. Sometimes the best defense is getting your case closed before the next charge lands.

Cash is your health. The red line is real.

Drop below 20 and your run ends. Enemy charges and bill deadlines are visible, and you can preview the consequences before committing a card.

Delaying a payment buys time. It does not make the payment disappear. Even a successful final review leaves you with a last bill to settle.

Build a deck that makes bureaucracy nervous.

• Keep the cash moving. Borrow, defer, and cut down tomorrow's bills before they arrive.
• Keep the receipts. Turn written evidence into progress, then invoice the system for its trouble.
• Keep each other standing. Chain mutual-aid cards, share the burden, and stop competing for employee of the crisis.

Face six absurd institutions across one working week. Pick new cards, trim your deck, and follow small choices toward different endings. Get yourself out. Bring others with you. Or accept a promotion with a deeply suspicious smile.

A bad week. A good reason to try again.

Rain-soaked comic-book art, receipt-shaped cards, and a very polite system with very unreasonable requests. The jokes are aimed at the machinery—and there are people worth helping on the other side of the counter.

Make it to Friday. Keep the receipts.