I died.
When I died, I was still clutching a takeout order: braised beef noodles with a marinated egg and extra cilantro.
I woke up in an infinite horror world, and the System sent me into a haunted-house instance.
While everyone else searched for clues and ran for their lives, I looked for the kitchen.
While others screamed for their mothers as ghosts chased them, I crouched by the stove, figuring out how to light a fire.
A red-clad female ghost floated over and asked if she could have some noodles.
I said, “Do you have chopsticks?”
After she finished eating, she showed me an escape route.
Later, I opened a shop in the safe zone called “Bento for Sale.”
Five points a bowl, free for ghost customers.
Then my shop appeared on the System map.
Then the System started keeping an eye on me.
Then a group of ghosts surrounded me and asked, “Boss, are you cooking again tomorrow?”
I said, “I am.”
This is a story about a bowl of hot porridge.
It gives the living courage and makes ghosts homesick.
