Apocalypse: Slaying the Corpse King from the Start

Reborn three days before the apocalypse, the mortician at Jiangcheng Funeral Home wiped the funny blush he'd painted on a corpse:

When will the Corpse King awaken? I remember.

The traitors in the safe zone? I've written their names on the wall.

Those supplies buried beneath the morgue drawers? Perfect for your afterlife banquet.

This time around, he stuffs dynamite into an incense-ash urn to make "corpse mines," sings a remixed afterlife chant that gets the zombie horde dancing in place, and personally seals the "brother" who once pushed him into a mob of corpses inside a gold-plated zombie.

Then the silver-masked huntress, who always carries a corpse-slaying blade, kicks open the morgue door. "Master Lin, mind if I borrow this pile of corpses?"

Lin Xuan grins, stroking the half-cartload of black donkey hooves she'd swindled from him. "We can work together, but take off your mask first. I remember the red cord on your sword sheath is the mark of a thousand-year-old corpse-controlling family."

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.