Post-life Negotiations

Han Yu's hands trembled as he held them up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, fine! No need to be hasty! We can negotiate!" he called out to the trees, his voice an octave higher than usual. But the howling only grew louder, like an auctioneer demanding a higher bid.

"Higher?" Han Yu gulped. "T-Two hundred thousand?" he croaked out.

HOWL.

Another howl, this time lower.

"Lower?" Han Yu raised his brows. "Hundred and fifty thousand?"

HOWL!

"Okay, okay! Higher, higher!" Han Yu hurriedly corrected himself. "Hundred and seventy thousand?"

Silence.

"So… you want a hundred and seventy thousand notes burned?" he asked, hoping the ghost would cut him a discount.

A single, approving howl echoed back.

Han Yu wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Alright then. Consider it done." He took a deep breath before adding, "But I'll need my magnet first. I can't make money without it, which means no funerary money for you. Those things are surprisingly expensive for something meant to be burnt, you know?"

Once again, silence. Han Yu interpreted it as agreement.

"Can I come collect it now?" He asked cautiously. "I promise I'll come back to burn the notes for you. And if I don't, you can always come haunt me." He swallowed before quickly adding, "Hell, you can even haunt my friends Fat Kui and Dan Hu! They have much tastier souls, I swear!" Without a second thought, he threw his friends under the ghostly bus, figuring if he was going down, he wasn't going alone.

No response.

Han Yu took that as a yes and scrambled to his feet.

"The howl came from the forest, so I suppose I'll find my magnet there, right?" he muttered to himself.

If he had taken even a moment to stop and think, he might have realized how absurd all of this was. He might have remembered the guard's warnings about beasts lurking in the area.

He might have even considered that ghosts generally weren't in the habit of negotiating financial transactions. But right now, Han Yu's mind was singularly focused on one thing: getting his magnet. Logic had packed its bags and left him behind.

With determined, if not slightly shaky, steps, he made his way towards the tree line barely a hundred meters away. As he entered the forest, the world around him seemed to change. The dense canopy swallowed most of the daylight, leaving eerie shadows in its wake.

Twisted roots curled like gnarled fingers, and every whisper of the wind sounded suspiciously like ghostly wails. Even the birds had seemingly decided they had better things to do than be here.

"F-Fuck…" Han Yu muttered under his breath. "Where do I actually go?"

He hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Uh, Mr. Ghost? Where's the magnet?"

For a moment, there was silence, and Han Yu thought maybe, just maybe, he was being an idiot.

Then, a faint howl drifted from straight ahead.

"Oh. I see." Han Yu gulped and followed the sound, stepping deeper into the woods, leaving behind common sense like an unwanted stepchild.

Every few seconds, he would pause, ask for directions, and receive another ghostly howl in response. Step by step, he ventured further, nerves stretched tighter than a lute string. His eyes darted around, hyper-aware of every falling leaf, every rustling bush, and every cricket that dared chirp. The oppressive atmosphere gnawed at his resolve, but he pressed on, his determination fueled by an absurd belief that he was part of a supernatural scavenger hunt.

After what felt like an eternity (but was probably only ten minutes), he stumbled into a small clearing. Barely five meters wide, the area was dominated by a massive fallen tree. It must have stood tall once, but now, time had claimed it, and sunlight poured through the gaps in the canopy, illuminating it like some sort of divine relic.

To Han Yu, it was exactly that.

"There!" His eyes widened as they locked onto a familiar piece of cloth draped over the tree trunk.

He sprinted towards it and snatched it up.

"It's here! MY MAGNET! MY MONEYMAKER!" He tore open the torn pocket, and there it was—the little metallic savior that would keep him fed!

Overcome with joy, Han Yu threw his head back and laughed. He clutched the magnet to his chest like a long-lost lover, dancing in circles.

"I won't starve! I'll get stronger! I'll—"

HOWL.

A low, weak howl interrupted his victory dance. Han Yu froze mid-spin, limbs locked in place like a poorly made statue.

"…Mr. Ghost?" he called out hesitantly.

Despite every rational part of his brain screaming at him to run, his traitorous legs moved forward. Perhaps it was the rush of success, or maybe sheer stupidity, but Han Yu found himself tiptoeing towards the source of the sound.

Peeking behind a bush, he finally saw it.

"A…wolf?"

Lying in a pool of its own blood, the creature was barely breathing. Deep cuts marred its body, and its growls were feeble, more pained than menacing. It was clear it didn't have long.

Han Yu's mouth fell open. His mind did mental gymnastics, trying to process this new revelation.

"I was following a dying wolf's cries this whole time?" He blinked, stunned. "Wait… can ghosts become wolves?"

He barely had time to finish his thought before something tapped his shoulder.

Han Yu's blood turned to ice.

'It's behind me, isn't it?'

With the stiffness of a rusted door hinge, he turned his head ever so slowly.

And saw death staring back at him.

A man—if he could even be called that—stood inches away. His face was half-covered by long, unkempt hair, eyes cold as steel, expression frozen like a long-forgotten corpse. Web-like scars stretched across his face like a network of sinister rivers.

Han Yu tried to move. He really did. But an iron grip on his shoulder locked him in place. He let out a strangled squeak, which, to his horror, sounded more like a whimpering squirrel than a battle-ready warrior.

"EEEEEK!"

His mind raced. This was it. This was the end. The ghost had tricked him into coming here, lured him with his own greed, and now he was going to be dragged into the underworld for unpaid debts!

'WHY DID I PROMISE TO BURN SO MUCH FUNERARY MONEY?!'