Delivering to the Funeral Home, Every Customer Is from the Underworld

“Ding! The Underworld’s Starved-to-Death Delivery Service: Ghost Messenger Edition activated!”

On a stormy night, Chen Mo received a food delivery order to a funeral home.

“Third row in the columbarium. Do not knock.”

He pushed open the door to the memorial hall, and a black ceramic urn suddenly cracked

From then on, he began working the graveyard shift, delivering to the restless souls of the underworld.

“You have a new hungry ghost order, ”

By the banks of the River of Forgetfulness, Meng Po scanned the payment with a new-energy cigarette between her lips. “Extra-spicy Forgetting Water. Remember to get the customer to leave five stars!”

Zhong Kui crunched on spicy strips as he tore apart a zombie, while White Impermanence livestreamed with a selfie stick. “Smash that like button, folks! Send 666 likes to unlock my ghost-frying-in-the-oil-pot talent!”

When his electric bike raced onto the Road to the Yellow Springs, the comments exploded:

“Delivery guy, could you pick up a paper aircraft carrier for my grandpa?”

“Streamer, can my ex go in the Hungry Ghost Path? I’ll send you a rocket!”

“What’s the rush?” Chen Mo twisted the throttle. His bone chariot crushed a horde of ghosts. “The Underworld’s Starved-to-Death Delivery Service: Always on time!”

Chen Mo drifted his electric bike over a heap of bones as the Soul-Suppressing Box deflected flying bone blades.

“You’re nothing but a delivery guy...” The Ghost King’s Netherworld Core glimmered in his chest, its voice roaring like ten thousand souls screaming as one.

“Funny you should say that!” Chen Mo bit his finger and drew a blood talisman on the box. “This delivery is guaranteed to make your soul scatter!”