I'll Take Midnight Ghost Orders, Even If the Address Is a Graveyard

The neon lights of the city at midnight guide delivery riders through the streets, but hidden here is an abyss no one dares to look into.

I’m an ordinary delivery rider, yet on countless late-night shifts, I’ve been dragged into one spine-chilling, bizarre vortex after another...

It was an order to “Ghost Building, Room 302,” with an unclear address. A bloodstained receipt stuck to my handlebars, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t tear it off. In a narrow alley, a woman in red always stood with her back to me. I turned around, only to see a ferocious ghost! Blue ghostfire flickered in his eyes. I tried to run, but couldn’t get away...

“Welcome, place your order.” Behind a broken wooden sign, a pale ghost hand reached through the pitch-black crack in the door and grabbed for my throat!

From a wonton shop open at three in the morning to a delivery entrance in the basement of an abandoned hospital, every order is an unknown contract, bringing the fear of death.

The ghost stories breeding in the darkness and the eerie “dishes” inside my delivery box dragged me into a bizarre urban nightmare filled with terror.

I’m not delivering food. I’m carrying a one-way ticket to hell. Can I... make it out of this night alive?