The day I was born, every gong and drum in the village fell silent, and the fortune-teller died on the spot, bleeding from all seven orifices.
He said I bore the seal of the Underworld and would not live past my first month. My mother traded her soul with the Underworld to buy me eighteen years of life.
On my eighteenth birthday, the Underworld System activated in my mind.
My first mission: help the wronged spirit beneath the old locust tree at the village entrance move on.
Reward: ten years of life and a hundred strands of Underworld merit.
I went to the tree. Huddled in its hollow was the spirit of my mother, who had waited eighteen years for me.
I helped her move on and claimed my reward, thinking I was a lucky guy who'd received a golden finger.
It wasn't until later that I realized: this System was a pigpen where the Underworld Judge was raising me.
He had me complete missions to build up my lifespan, but what he really wanted was to fatten me up as a dish for his table!
I quit.
I stole the Reaper's pass, killed the Chief Torturer, smashed the Underworld archives, and, right in front of the Lord of the Underworld, kicked the judge who had eaten four hundred thousand ghosts straight into prison!
Now they're begging me to serve as acting judge.
I rubbed the glossy black Underworld seal on my left arm and gave a cold laugh.
"Fine. From today on, the rules of the Underworld are mine to make!"
