Chapter 1

1: 1

The interstate dream-delivery speed-up request for the Ghost Festival got kicked back three times.

The third time, the Night Roamer threw the form on the floor.

"Interstate dream-delivery needs a 5G channel now?"

"You think you paid to build the Underworld's relay towers?"

I didn't waste breath. I switched to a traditional dream-delivery talisman.

The signal lag pushed the dream four hours late.

The living children got into a brawl at the grave, and the ancestral plot was dug up right then and there.

The Temple Warden's century of merit-light shattered to dust.

The Temple Warden was so angry he smashed his desk apart.

"What in the realms happened here!"

Every soul in the hall was staring at me.

I stood up and spread my hands.

"I'm a low-level shrine-keeper, and the Night Roamer had the port locked down."

"So you tell me. Should I have sent it by dream, or gone up and clawed my way out of the grave myself?"

1

The air in the hall dropped to freezing in an instant.

The Temple Warden's face went ashen at my words, his heavy body trembling in the great chair.

Not one of the immortal officials or ghost-clerks dared breathe.

The Night Roamer, Albert Henson, stepped out of the ranks, his brow knotted tight.

"Tamara Pruitt, don't stand there passing the blame."

"What do you mean I had the port locked down?"

He strode right up to me, glaring.

"The Ghost Festival is a busy time. Of course network allocation has an order of priority."

"Your own skills are lacking, you can't work a dream-delivery talisman properly, you let something go wrong in the living world, and now you're pinning it on a network port?"

His tone shifted.

"Look, I know it's hard on you, running the relay tower all alone."

"But that's no excuse for you to go biting at people at random."

"We're at a critical stage in the Underworld's reforms right now."

"And here you are. Not only refusing to fall in line with the bigger picture, you're stirring up trouble in front of the Temple Warden."

"Are those few centuries of cultivation of yours worth nothing at all?"

Before I could answer, Albert's assistant, Bianca Whitfield, stepped forward.

"Sister Tamara, I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

Her eyes were rimmed red.

"Albie, don't blame Sister Tamara."

She tugged at Albert's sleeve.

"It's all on me."

"I was trying to get up to speed on our Underworld operations, so I did a little extra research."

"I might have accidentally taken up some of Sister Tamara's dream-delivery bandwidth."

"I didn't know her work was that urgent."

She sniffled, tears dropping one after another.

"Sister Tamara, I'm sorry."

"Bibi's just too dense, no experience."

"If you're angry, hit me, yell at me, that's fine. Just please don't drag Albie into it and get him scolded by the Temple Warden."

Everyone knew Bianca had powerful backing. Word was she was the goddaughter of some big name upstairs.

The moment that sweet little act came out, the immortal officials and ghost-clerks around us all turned reproachful eyes on me.

Seeing Bianca speak up, the Temple Warden's anger eased considerably.

He cleared his throat and turned to me.

"Tamara Pruitt, it's only a will that came four hours late."

"The living getting into a brawl at the grave, that's the living world having no manners of their own."

"You're a senior employee. Why do you have to make things hard for a newcomer?"

"Back before there was any network, wasn't this job done just the same?"

Albert lowered his voice and leaned in near my ear.

"Go apologize to Bibi now."

"Be sincere about it, and I'll bury this whole thing for you today."

"That interstate dream-delivery speed-up form, whatever it's called, I'll sign off on it in a bit."

I ignored Albert and pulled a tablet out of my pocket.

In front of everyone in the hall, I pressed the holographic projection key.

The relay tower's traffic monitoring feed blew up in midair.

On the screen, the red traffic line at the IP address labeled with Bianca's workstation was climbing straight up.

Every data stream eating up the 5G port pointed to one thing: living-world short-video platforms.

The feed cut again, to the workstation surveillance of Bianca herself.

There she was, sprawled comfortably in an ergonomic chair.

Munching on high-end cherries offered up from the living world, thumbing through short videos like mad.

The screen was nothing but living-world male models with eight-pack abs grinding their hips at the edge of decency.

The volume was cranked to the max.

"Thanks to my top-tier sis for the sky-piercing arrow" rang out again and again through the Warden's hall.

The Temple Warden's mouth twitched with fury.

The tears Bianca had just squeezed out froze in her eyes, her whole face flushing red.

"No, it's not like that!" She waved her hands frantically.

"I was surveying the aesthetic trends in the living world!"

"It's forward-looking research for our future culture-and-tourism ventures!"

Albert planted himself in front of Bianca, blocking her from everyone's view.

He whipped his head around and glared at me.

"Tamara Pruitt! Have you lost your mind?"

"Monitoring a colleague's equipment on the back end without permission, that's a serious violation of the rules!"

"Delete that video right now!"

"Or I'll suspend you today!"

I watched Albert hopping mad, and just tore off the jade access token at my chest, the one engraved with "Chief Shrine-Keeper."

I slapped it down on the Temple Warden's altar table with a crack.

"No need to suspend me. You don't have that authority anyway."

"Overtime pay unpaid, annual leave untaken."

"As of today, I'm filing for indefinite leave."

With that, I didn't spare another glance for anyone in the hall, turned, and strode out the door.