I inherited the delivery station my grandfather left behind, only to discover that none of its customers are human.
The delivery address might be a morgue locker in a funeral home at midnight, and the recipient might be a sleeping ancient god. My employees are all manner of fearsome fiends, bound by blood contracts to the previous owner.
A red-clad ghost takes calls at the front desk, a headless horseman rides an electric scooter to make deliveries, and an Egyptian mummy sorts packages in the warehouse.
The Underworld inspection team says I’m operating without a license, while Heaven’s inspectors accuse me of disrupting the balance between yin and yang. Western competitors are stealing my business, and demons from the Abyss are leaving me bad reviews.
Then comes the spiritual qi revival, and all the worlds merge into one. The Underworld, Heaven, and the 749 Bureau all send their documents crashing onto my desk at once.
“Boss, you’re the only one in the world who can deliver this urgent cross-dimensional package.”
“The payment?”
“The right to survive for an entire world.”
