No worries, I have plenty

Following the puppet, John soon arrived at a room resembling a kitchen prep area.

The puppet handed a piece of paper to John.

John took it, unfolded the note, which contained only an address and something named "X ingredient."

What does this mean?

John was puzzled.

"This is your punishment and your job for today."

"Next, you need to leave the restaurant, find the supermarket at this address, and bring back the 'X ingredient' to the restaurant."

"In doing so, you can make amends for your mistake and also receive a substantial reward," the puppet said.

Buy ingredients!

John looked up and asked, "I'm going alone?"

"You're going alone!" The puppet nodded its wooden head.

John suddenly scoffed, "Tell me, how dangerous is this?"

"In the past, employees who caused losses to the restaurant were sent to procure ingredients to make up for the losses."

"You are the 99th. Out of the 98 who went before you, only 9 returned alive."

A survival rate of ten percent!

"What if I refuse?"

"You will be eliminated on the spot," the puppet said.

"I advise you to think carefully before making a decision. If you dare to resist, with that pitiful amount of ghost power you possess, you have no chance of survival."

"By following the rules of our restaurant, you at least have a hope of coming back alive!"

"The 'X ingredient' is very important to us."

"It's a crucial ingredient for a dish requested by a distinguished guest on the second floor!"

"If you bring it back, your term as an employee will end early, and moreover, you can obtain a managerial position or higher, receiving the restaurant's protection."

The reward was incredibly tempting!

But the more enticing it was, the more it indicated how dangerous and difficult it would be!

"What choice do I have but to agree?" John shrugged.

Refusing meant death now.

Agreeing felt like a deferred death!

Bang!!

The door was flung open.

It was before the restaurant opened, the outside world was shrouded in a grey mist and a bone-chilling wind blew in.

"Let's set off."

Holding the note, John said, "It says here I can take the bus to get there. Will the fare be reimbursed?"

The puppet did not answer.

"Alright, I guess I'll have to cover the fare myself."

Wrapped in a thin shirt, John stepped out of the restaurant's back door.

The moment he stepped out, the door instantly shut behind him.

John looked up at the gray, overcast sky.

Come to think of it, he had never actually seen what the Thriller World looked like, had he?

It was still early, and since he had exited through the back door, John didn't attract much attention from the ghosts.

But just to be safe, John put on the Raincoat of the Rainy Night Murderer in an alleyway in advance.

The scent of humanity was masked, turning him into one of the ghosts.

Had he left the restaurant as a human, John figured he wouldn't have made it to the bus before being killed.

The Raincoat of the Rainy Night Murderer was John's greatest protection!

Once he emerged from the alley onto the road, John got a clear view of this so-called Thriller World.

Skyscrapers, not much different from the human world.

However, the empty streets and roads were littered with wrecked cars, and the sidewalks were piled with rotting flesh, emitting a foul stench.

Flocks of crows and vultures circled above, with many on the roadside, tearing and pecking at the decaying bodies.

It was reminiscent of a post-apocalyptic world.

Walking along the roadside, John encountered vague shadows and zombies-like ghosts moving towards him.

They looked at John with a hint of confusion, but upon smelling the foul ghost aura emanating from him, they diverted their gaze and walked away.

"If I didn't have this coat, I'd probably be dismembered by now," John thought to himself.

Following the signs, John found the bus stop that would take him to his destination.

He sat down on the bench, and next to him, there was an elderly man who also seemed to be waiting for the bus.

The old man was leaning on a cane, apparently sleeping with his eyes closed.

From the outside, John couldn't find any trace of ghostliness on the old man.

But he was very clear inside, this old man was definitely not human!

Perhaps, like the little girl, he was a Half-ghost.

Speaking of the little girl, John thought about asking her for help.

But after looking at the address she left, well, it was much farther than his current destination.

To avoid being discovered, John didn't strike up a conversation with this seemingly normal old man.

Soon, a woman arrived, holding a baby in her arms and carrying a bag of groceries.

The baby's skin was gray, and it was playing with a human head, giggling eerily.

The groceries in the woman's bag were chopped up limbs, among which, a finger still had a ring on it.

John suddenly realized.

The Thriller World, perhaps, wasn't much different from the human world.

Ghosts also have their own lives, their own jobs.

The difference is, what's being chopped on the cutting board and bought at the market isn't poultry or ducks, but humans.

Ding ding.

The bus arrived, the one John was waiting for.

He quickly got up, and the old man and the woman also stood up, taking the same bus as John.

The old man and the woman got on the bus one after another, inserting ghost Coins into the fare box.

John calmed his heart and followed aboard, dropping the prepared ghost Coins into the fare box.

Just as he was about to move on, the ghost bus driver suddenly called out to John in a eerie voice: "Hold on!!"

John stopped in his tracks, turning stiffly to face the driver.

The driver's pale, bloodless face was staring straight at John, his cracked lips squeezing out a few hoarse words: "You overpaid."

John breathed a sigh of relief internally, calmly responding: "No worries, I have plenty."

The driver didn't say much else, closed the door, and started the bus.

There weren't many passengers on the bus.

Besides the old man and the woman who got on with John, there were four other passengers.

One of the passengers had a horrifying stitched line down the center of his face and his head was full of steel pins.

Clearly, this was a ghost.

Another passenger, dressed in a suit and well-built, was staring out the window at the passing scenery, seemingly disinterested.

John looked at him, feeling a shiver inside.

Human scent!

Not a Half-ghost, this man in a suit was a real human!