Lu Chen was an orphan and a food delivery rider buried in online loan debt. Eight minutes late earned him a 200-yuan fine. As he squatted by the roadside, chewing on a cold boxed meal, an ad popped up: Heavenly Dispatch. Sign up and get fifty yuan, with high daily pay. He tapped it.
That's when he discovered none of his customers were human. The God of Wealth lived in an unfinished building and ate instant noodles. His KPI had been unmet for three years, and he was losing his hair even faster than Lu Chen. The Matchmaker's red threads had been switched, and three hundred couples across the city were about to become ill-fated pairs. The Kitchen God was running out of incense, and nobody remembered him. Customer service agent Qiqi always replied instantly with a smile, until the day her voice trembled: Lu Chen, run.
Even gods had to work and meet KPIs. They could have their accounts deleted and be completely forgotten by the world. An old rider marked "account suspended for violations" never came back. A five-star rider who had completed 3,847 deliveries didn't die on the road. He fell at the hands of his own people. The last line in his handbook read: Don't trust the System.
Lu Chen delivered more than takeout. He helped restless souls resolve their regrets, brought hot meals to the living whose household registrations had been canceled and whose faces could no longer be found in the system, and delivered forgotten gods, one order at a time, back to the selves they had been when they became gods. The System cared only about speed and penalties. But souls secretly gave him five stars. Their reviews earned him no miles, only something the System couldn't calculate: the power of faith.
All he had wanted was to pay off his debts and live an ordinary life. But little by little, he saw what this game really was: a second Investiture of the Gods. The old gods were being erased one by one, new gods were taking their place, and even living people could be wiped from the world without a trace. He was the one variable this machine couldn't identify.
[You have received a new fated order. Late delivery will deduct your lifespan.]
