The Underworld’s Chaotic Group Chat

“Got it! Holy crap, even three cents is love!” Zhang Chu nearly poked a hole through his phone screen with his thumb. In his cramped rental, the only sound was the old fan creaking as it turned, blowing out hot, stuffy air. Shirtless, Zhang Chu pressed an ice-cold cola to his face, then looked down at the WeChat chat he’d just opened. [Congratulations! You’ve received a red packet from “King Yama”: “Soul-Seizing Writ (Incomplete Version)” has been added to your wallet.] “Tsk, are the group admins in murder mystery game carpools this generous these days? And ‘King Yama’… This guy must have been online for twenty or thirty years to be that chuunibyou.” Zhang Chu rolled his eyes and pushed his leftover instant noodle cup aside. The group had a downright sinister name: “Fengdu First Street Office Chat Group.” Zhang Chu had been added half an hour ago. Work had been stressful lately, so he’d thought he’d find a murder mystery game for the weekend to blow off steam. He’d scanned a QR code on a local forum and joined. He’d expected a player group for something like “Murder Today” or “Master Detective,” but the chat turned weird the moment he entered. [Black Impermanence (Group Admin):]@King Yama Boss, resentment in the Nancheng Development Zone has been off the charts lately, and our soul-reaping quota has doubled this month. The guys are practically running their legs off. Can we request two shared paper sedan chairs? [Crying.jpg] [White Impermanence:] Agreed. And those bald monks and Taoist priests in the mortal world keep stealing our business. Every soul they redeem is one less for our performance quota. At this rate, we won’t have money for incense next month. [King Yama:] [Wiping sweat] Budget’s tight. Do your best, everyone. I’ll send out a little perk,