My life has always been full of misfortune. No matter how I die, I just can't stay dead. I have no idea why I'm so absurdly lucky. Even being run over by a car couldn't kill me!
But on my eighteenth birthday, something incredibly strange happened. I had skin like iron and bones like steel, yet I was actually crushed to death, then arrived in a dark world. Was this what they called Hell?
Think I transmigrated after meeting King Yama, only to be reborn in some ancient era? I was indeed reborn, but there seemed to be some kind of contract involved, with conditions attached. And it wasn't some ancient setting where I'd meet a beautiful woman. I was still living as myself, only now my soul was trapped inside the body of a Hell Messenger, bound by a shackle that nearly drove me mad time and again. A contract collar was fastened around my neck, like I was being assigned a number. The collar marked my number, and every Hell Messenger had a different accessory. I could deal with being a Hell Messenger, but why did I have to wear a collar like a pet? What a tragedy.
And what do you think the Ten Yama Kings of Hell look like? Big beards? Brawny physiques? Every one I saw was a peerlessly handsome man. Does Hell only recruit men so stunningly beautiful they take your breath away? Then what about me...
All right, so I was told I had some kind of mission, and ended up working as a ghost hunter. But there are so many kinds of ghosts, and these eyes of mine can see ghosts every second of every day. My soul is also too easy for ghosts to ask for help. Ah, this is driving me crazy.
Yama, you're the biggest hurdle of all, aren't you?
