We Never Give Credit, Not Even to Vicious Ghosts

I died ten years ago. Only after I died did I realize that being a ghost is far more comfortable than being alive. Now I’m the manager of a little shop in the underworld. I earn ghost money to trade for pills that extend my lifespan. In other people’s eyes, I’m a worthless Taoist priest with no ambition. I don’t do business with the living, and I don’t accept human currency. “What? You want to buy on credit and pay me next time? Sure, we’re good friends, after all.” “Hanged ghost! Pay your debts. That’s only fair. Otherwise, we’ll take this to court and let the King of Hell settle it.” “Wait, stop fighting! Let me collect a debt first. Yes, you, you drowned ghost, you bastard! You ate without paying! Hand over the money!” I don’t know what those Taoist priests are so worried about. They’re only dealing with a few vicious ghosts. All I know is that a whole lot of ghosts owe me money and refuse to pay. There’s something incredibly satisfying about being the creditor of those evil ghosts.