Chapter 1
A vast sea as dark as ink stretched endlessly, with countless boats drifting upon it.
So were small, single-person rowboats. Others were ferries, carrying multiple people. Occasionally, a large ship appeared, carrying hundreds.
But regardless of what vessel they were on, the people remained in a dazed, lost state. Their mories slowly being erased by the sea, they had no knowledge of where they were headed or even that they were already dead.
However, within this sea, a lighthouse suddenly appeared, half-hidden in mist, where there should have only been passage to the land of death.
Its beam landed on a small rowboat, illuminating a young man seated on it, drawing him toward the lighthouse.
As the light grew brighter, the young man’s dark, lifeless eyes began to regain their luster.
The burning sensation from the light grew as the boat drew closer. Scorching patterns etched across his head, carrying a voice that seed to call from the world of the living.
Buzz!
The pitch-black sea vanished, replaced by an old, weathered wooden desk.
The young man, his eyes slowly adjusting, found himself staring at an old kerosene lamp at the upper right corner of the table. The flickering fla within it matched the image of the lighthouse in his mind.
Beneath his resting arms, he felt the rough texture of paper. It was a yellowed sheet with hasty, ssy handwriting.
To his left on the desk was a glass, containing a peculiar-slling transparent liquid.
Seeing this unfamiliar scene, his first thought wasn’t fear or curiosity; instead, a critical notion bubbled up from deep within his subconscious:
“My thesis!”
His last mory was of an all-nighter spent revising his graduation thesis in the lab.
And that mory ended with intense chest pain and a foggy consciousness.
Realizing this, the young man put the pieces together.
“Did I… die suddenly?”
He looked at his hands, noticing they were rough and worn, with calluses and dirt under the nails. He instantly recognized these hands were not those of his own familiar ones.
“Did I… transmigrate?”
His na was Yi Chen, a weary graduate student in chemical engineering.
Being a fan of novels and gas, the first word that ca to his mind was 'transmigration.'
Upon reaching this conclusion, he felt no anxiety or fear. Instead, a profound sense of relief washed over him, and he even relaxed his body because he no longer had to worry about finishing his thesis, the upcoming review, or the defense. It felt wonderful.
Having grown up in an orphanage, he had lived a solitary 24 years with little attachnt to his forr world.
However, the relief did not last long, as a putrid sll in the air brought him back to reality.
“I need to figure out what’s going on…”
Yi Chen shook his head and stood up, scanning the modest, 40-square-ter wooden room.
To the left of the desk was a narrow, single wooden bed pressed against the wall. Mold stains were visible at the foot of the bed, likely due to the dampness of the room.
There were no windows in the room.
The only connection to the outside was a heavy, gray iron door, tightly fitted in its fra. The coarse, bumpy paint seed to be at least 40 or 50 years old.
The door key was hanging on Yi Chen’s waistband.
On the wall beside the door, there was an old-fashioned telephone—a model he had only seen in the orphanage as a child, long since replaced by smartphones.
The phone cord, wrapped in rubber insulation, extended upward, disappearing into the ceiling.
It was also worth noting that the only source of light in the room was the kerosene lamp on the desk.
The simple, sealed wooden room and the rotten air reminded Yi Chen of a grim thought—'a coffin.'
It felt as if he were trapped in a coffin disguised as a wooden room.
He returned to the desk and, lacking a phone or mirror to check his appearance, tentatively felt his face. Aside from so stubble, his features seed sharp and even a bit more handso than his previous self.
Judging by the roughness of his skin, he guessed he was likely under thirty.
He resud his focus on the desk, eyeing a 'letter' left on it.
“English? Is this overseas?”
Yi Chen, accustod to skimming through papers, quickly scanned the letter.
The first line was unsettling, as it began with a chilling word—'die'.
As he read further, each word slithered into him like a parasite, filling him with unease.
≮ “I’m going to die; I know it for certain.
But at least I still have the choice of how to die.
There’s nothing in this world worth clinging to. My only regret is letting Dean Fran down. I ssed up my first job since leaving the orphanage.
I’ve always been careless, making mistakes like this even back at the orphanage.
The third rule in the manual… I’ve reviewed it every day, yet I still made a mistake.
There’s nothing more to say. I can only hope that whoever reads this letter can forgive my cowardice and incompetence; I simply don’t have the courage to face the consequences of my errors.
If possible, please cremate my body.
Please, do not bury
here! ≯
“Is this a will?”
Yi Chen picked up a cup from the corner of the wooden table, inhaling the scent lingering in the liquid within.
He could now deduce the basic background of this body's original owner.
“Did this guy also spend his childhood in orphanages? Was it because of a similar past, similar appearance and build, and a coincidental death that allowed
to cross over into his body?
Knowing he would die, he chose to poison himself?
Does failing to follow a certain rule truly result in a death penalty? What kind of place is this?”
Deeply analyzing, Yi Chen could sll the anxiety and danger pervading the air, as he also pondered his own ‘predicant.’
“Since I’ve crossed over, the ss naturally falls to
to handle… This guy couldn’t even leave more useful information in his will.
After making a mistake, what kind of dangers could there be?
Will assassins from so organization co to eliminate ? Or will sothing strange co knocking?”
With this thought, Yi Chen glanced around the room once more.
Even though the wooden cabin was sealed tightly like a coffin, he still felt no sense of security.
“Calm down~ I’ve already died once, there’s nothing to fear. First, let’s look for the ‘manual’ ntioned in the will to see exactly what mistake this guy made, and what kind of job he was doing.”
Pulling open the drawer of the wooden table, he found a parchnt map and a unique handbook bound in black fur.
According to the map,
This place was a cetery.
The wooden cabin was located in the center,
surrounded in a clockwise manner by cetery numbered 1 to 6. Additionally, at a corner of the map was an unusual Cetery No. 7, completely isolated and accessible only by a narrow path over a hundred ters long.
“So, this is a cetery? This guy was a gravekeeper? No wonder there’s a faint sll of decay even in this cabin.”
Yi Chen turned his attention to the handbook containing vital information.
*Employee Manual (Easton Town – Cetery)*
The first page docunted the schedule in detail.
The gravekeeper needed to inspect the designated graves at specific tis. For example:
The inspection ti for Cetery No. 1 was from 7:00 to 9:30.
The inspection ti for Cetery No. 2 was from 1:00 to 3:00.
And so on.
Cetery No. 7, however, had no designated inspection ti and did not require inspection; it was marked as a special area.
The schedule seed relatively normal.
But when Yi Chen turned to the second page, his expression grew serious.
It started off with an asterisk and bold red text:
Please carefully read each of the following cetery rules and commit them to mory. Failure to observe any rule, or any mistake, will invite disaster. The consequences will be worse than death.
I. [Inspect each grave according to the titable; the margin of error for start and end tis must be less than one minute.]
II. [During inspections of Cetery No. 2, ensure that the cross-shaped headstone is not inverted or adorned with items resembling a goat skull.
If such conditions are present, the headstone must be restored and items removed within the inspection ti.]
III. [When inspecting Cetery No. 4, ensure that the number and order of headstones remain consistent with the original setup. If there are any abnormalities in the number or sequence, you must clear away the extra graves or restore the displaced headstones to their correct order.]
For easier morization, the appendix contains an original sketch of Cetery No. 4.
IV. [Before beginning the inspection of Cetery No. 5, make sure there is absolute silence within. If any strange sounds are heard, postpone the inspection by one hour. If the sound persists after an hour, report it to the manager.]
V. [If a new corpse is delivered to the cetery gate, carefully inspect the hearse to ensure it bears the correct ‘organizational mark.’ If the mark is correct, transport the corpse to the designated grave entrance as indicated by the number engraved on its surface, and it will be interred automatically. If no mark is found or if the mark is incorrect, transport the hearse and the corpse to Cetery No. 7 during the dayti.]
Refer to the appendix for the organizational mark.
VI. [Other cetery only require basic inspection to confirm that the tombs remain undisturbed and that no foreign objects are present.]
VII. [When not on patrol, stay in the safehouse to minimize the chance of accidents.]
VIII. [If an error at work causes disaster to befall you, the organization offers one opportunity for survival.
Lift the floorboards beneath the bed, retrieve a defensive tool, and resolve the issue.]
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