There are three iron rules in the takeout world of Kirigakure City: don't open the incubator, don't look at the customer's face, and don't take orders from the 606 haunted house—unless you want to be used as a sacrifice by quantum believers, or tell bedtime stories to Cthulhu cubs.
Lin Xiao, a rider from Yin Yang Express Company, has a code scanning gun in his left hand and a cinnabar charm in his right hand. He delivers plasma milk tea and pickled pepper tentacles on a daily basis. It wasn't until one day that he saw a potted green radish devouring cultists, and the entire apartment was transforming into a living altar, that he was shocked to realize that the snail noodles he sent contained the final sacrifice to summon the ancient gods.
"Two-legged beast, your incubator is hatching the color of the stars!" The nine-life cat demon Mo Mo slapped away its tentacles with a paw, and the will-o'-the-wisp at the tip of its tail burned through the health-preserving chicken soup of the owners. From the chairman Kimchi Ares with a Northeastern accent to the zombie colleagues who live broadcast exorcisms, the entire demon world is frantically grabbing orders for five-dollar coupons and to prevent the arrival of the old rulers.
When the electronic navigation starts reciting the "Necronomicon" and when the canned herring becomes a sealing artifact, this black humorous adventure of riding on Meituan's eMule and traveling through the gaps of quantum entanglement is turning the entire world's takeaway notes into an ancient curse...
