It's tough out there in the job market these days. Who among us hasn't felt some sort of dissatisfaction with our careers at some point, by way of poor pay, bad benefits, unpleasant work environments, or all of the above? Wouldn't it be great to be able to just quit and stumble into a brand-new career where you could actually enjoy utilizing your talents and feel appreciated for it? So goes the fantasy of Happy Kanako's Killer Life, hyping itself up on its fairly incredible elevator pitch: What if an office worker quit her job and became a professional assassin instead?

As you might expect going into a series primarily presented as a sequence of four-panel gag comics, that core joke is the main source of the majority of the appeal here. And to its credit, it's a very funny joke. The sheer speed at which Kanako gets swept up into the escalating antics of her new career makes for some great laughs just getting things started. The humor primarily comes from how suddenly things happen, as well as the pacing of the single-page comic format not wasting too much time on complex setups or dwelling on absurd, sudden resolutions like Kanako completing her first assignment on her abusive former boss. It's quick-hit comedy where a huge part of the joke is that any of it is happening at all.

The punchlines here work, however, because the writing of the bonkers little story they're structured around feels so knowing in its depiction of the lifestyle situations it's ruthlessly garotting. Kanako herself is a total goof most of the time, but in a believable, relatable way that anyone else out there exasperated by the unappreciative work-a-day grind should be able to connect with. It's common to feel like you're killing yourself for a job you hate, so how much of a turnaround would it be to end up killing other people for a job you actually liked? It makes Kanako easy to project ourselves onto for the 'fantasy' part of this book, with that being the wistful imaginary scenario of gainful, satisfying employment coming across as much of this series' black comedy as all the flippant murder.

The way Happy Kanako's Killer Life portrays the world of professional killers with the sort of simple, grounded presentation as you would expect from an office comedy is another effective element of the whole joke. Kanako's got a somewhat intimidating boss to impress, and a tough senior co-worker she's trying to stay on the good side of. They chat on their breaks and go out drinking after a job well done, and it's that mundanity that cleverly convinces those of us reading this wild fantasy that life as an assassin might not be as bad as any other job we end up committed to. It allows for amusing asides like Kanako questioning using her skills to bump people off purely to make the world a better place, only for her boss to admonish her for potentially working for free. Even the killers of the underworld can't escape the pressures of capitalism, and this manga's dry understanding of that sensibility only pushes its bleak brand of millennial-flavored humor up that much further.

Not that the Kanako comic is all black comedy around a singular (if very funny) concept. The other side of its commentary coin is in depicting the changes Kanako's life instill in her as a person. She continues her nervous wreck tendencies, but we see her far less exhausted than in the premiere pages right after she quits her advertising job, even relishing her free time to enjoy the simple pleasures of kids' shows and associated merchandise. Most importantly, we see her getting to reach out and rekindle a friendship with an old classmate of hers, and coming to realize that she may have been a strong, inspirational person even before she found her killer calling. Bits like this, or seeing her earnest efforts to prove herself to her new co-workers, make clear that this series isn't entirely a spoof; it can be read as an uplifting, if absurd, parable about finding satisfaction in our lives and careers. Is it a cautionary tale for the more banal, predatory employers out in the world, that if they don't treat their workers right, they may find themselves on the opposite end of a sniper rifle from someone suddenly receiving much better benefits? I doubt this silly comedy is seeking to be all that much socially reconstructive, but dang if that tone doesn't sweep the heavily-relating readers into the fantasy in the moment, anyway.

As noted, the actual art of this series is heavily arranged around conveying the rapid-fire comedy of the whole affair. The full-color presentation can look a little flat compared to other examples in the medium, but it does the job sprucing up the single-page 4-koma format, making the whole thing feel just bright and entertaining enough to follow through its fast-tracked funnies. The most notable visual flourish is Kanako's consistent habit of making exasperated remarks in the form of animal puns, accompanied by little illustrations of said animals. It's an adorable little character tic that gives her a nicely distinctive personality apart from the 'overworked office lady turned skilled assassin' gimmick, only slightly detracted by how tortured some of the attempts to translate those puns into English turn out to be. Yes, they're supposed to be bad, but at least a few of them come off like the translator just threw in the first equivalent that came to mind and moved on. The curious bad-pun connoisseur in me would have loved some notes in the back detailing what each of the jokes originally were and how they went about reworking them, but that might have been above the grade of this otherwise silly, simple little release.

As-is, Happy Kanako's Killer Life is a brisk, funny read that uses its gimmick well. And it's got just enough heart to its presentation of its character and her situation that I'll be totally down to follow Kanako across successive volumes later. Maybe in those they can spruce up the complexity of the story or expand on some of the relatable social commentary, but for now, it doesn't really need to be that. It's simply an effective version of its own high concept, and it never feels like it overstays its welcome.