I worked night shifts in a funeral parlor for ten years. The paper money I burned led to the underworld, and the sutras I recited led to reincarnation. Until that night, a "divine corpse" was delivered to the morgue, surrounded by purple lightning and terrifying. The immortal envoys from heaven and the judges from the underworld knelt outside the door and asked me with trembling voices to burn it with my own hands and send the "Emperor" back to his throne. I lit my usual white candle, and the flame turned into nine colors of chaos. In the incinerator, the divine corpse faded away from its mortal appearance, revealing the vast body of the emperor. The firelight illuminated my calm face - it turned out that the people I ferried were never mortals.
