I Hunt Ghosts in a Sackcloth Cloak, and Even the King of Hell Says I’m a Breeze to Deal With

My family has hunted ghosts for generations, but by the time it came to me, the craft was nearly lost.

After all, these days the evil spirits are either getting into graduate school or passing civil service exams. Who would still want to linger in the mortal world and cause trouble?

With our ancestral livelihood about to disappear, I gritted my teeth and burned a letter to complain to the King of Hell:

“If you don’t come up with a solution, I’ll come down there, take the civil service exam, and smash your iron rice bowl!”

The next day, express delivery from the Underworld arrived:

“Complete list of delinquent KPIs in the mortal realm, with precise locations. Dear customer, please capture them all within fifty years~”

I stared at the endless list, feeling faint, when a ghostly voice drifted in from outside the window:

“Need some ghosts to help, sir? We’re... cheap and useful.”