All living beings in hell

Chapter 44 How to deal with dead bodies in hell

When I opened my eyes, I was still lying on the office floor.

The body is cold and unable to move, only the consciousness is clear.

This consciousness is free. If I want, I can leave my body at any time and float to the ceiling to see my body lying on the ground in a funny shape.

With the sapphire pen continuously burning on the chest, a hallway was burned, and it seemed that there was wind passing through it.

—I think I'm probably dead.

——When I was doing this job, I had already thought about the possibility and node of death countless times, but I never thought that I killed myself with my sapphire pen.

This is probably like a skydiver who suddenly decides not to open a parachute when he is 500 meters above the ground.Just pretend that the umbrella buckle is broken, or the wind direction is bad, and it takes about 11 seconds to land from here.

He watched the sunrise slowly rising in the distance, and decided to make these 11 seconds an eternity.

Some are not reconciled, this way of death is too embarrassing.His whole body was in tatters, and the left side of his face was probably scratched with a layer of skin on the ground.There is no so-called heroism at all, and even the process of his own death is painful and tangled.

What kind of pride, generosity to die, awe-inspiring righteousness, nothing.

If you want to say that the abnormal death of the official position of the writer can also be regarded as a sacrifice for the cause.However, this death made me feel like I screwed things up.

Obviously such a cautious character, why did he fall into this matter?

My soul got up from the ground, and sat on the bluestone bench silently looking at my body.The coolness of the stone bench came, and my soul still retains the touch in hell.

What to do after that?

After asking countless questions from guests, it finally came back to me.

Write, write, what are you going to do next?
As soon as the wind of thinking blew, the door of the office was kicked open.A familiar figure appeared at the door, and this figure did not forget to bring her torreya seeds.

"Is that dead?" Granny Meng first looked up at me, then looked down at my body, "The body of a mortal is a bit unusable."

I sighed and stood up from the bluestone bench: "Why is Po Meng here?"

"I heard the sound of mortals dying in hell." Po Meng's ears moved. "The sound of mortals' bodies hitting the ground heavily. You know that I am most sensitive to this kind of sound."

Po Meng crouched next to my dead body, and fiddled with the big hole in my chest—the sapphire pen was pierced in the center of the hole, and the surrounding heart, aorta, spine, and part of the lungs were all scorched black.The sapphire pen no longer glows, and like this corpse, it also looks like a dead thing.

"It's very miserable. It seems that this body is useless." After knocking the torreya seeds, Granny Meng put the husks in her side pocket, probably saving them to feed the lobsters in the underworld. "But as a mortal, the body is dead. , Yuanshen can still maintain such a good, it is really rare."

I shrugged my shoulders: "If the primordial spirit is separated again, we should not meet here, and have to wait in line at your site for reincarnation."

"Haha," a torreya seed shattered between Po Meng's teeth, "I'm still in the mood to joke around at this moment, the writer is in a good mood."

"Then what can I do, I'm dead."

"Did you leave a suicide note in the mortal world?"

"Suicide note? I never thought of leaving such a thing as a suicide note."

I lowered my head and thought for a while: "I'm in Yangjian, I have no wife, no husband, no children, no property to distribute, and no debts to repay. Both parents are still alive, but it seems that there are no funeral matters that need to be explained. I don’t know anything about the process of a funeral. Even if it’s all based on their preferences, I’ll accept it completely, and there’s nothing to be picky about. It’s probably like going missing while traveling one day. If you can arrange something like a skydiving accident As for the incident, it’s good to broadcast it on the news. Otherwise, I would feel a little ashamed if I let the elders look for me everywhere.”

Granny Meng looked at me with squinted eyes: "Generally, mortals who receive work in hell are like signing a life-and-death certificate. They have written a suicide note before coming. I don't know if you haven't thought carefully enough about your chic style, or it's true. Chic."

"It doesn't matter whether you are chic or unrestrained, at least it is something that can be put back for now."

I looked down at the corpse on the ground, it was alive and kicking yesterday, but now it is so broken that it makes people feel sympathetic.

"Yes, the corpse has to be disposed of. There are several ways to dispose of it in our hell. It can be thrown into the hungry ghost road to share food with everyone, thrown into the sea of ​​blood to feed the crocodiles, and it can be made into a specimen and hung anywhere for display. There are many souls, but corpses are rare."

"Is there really nothing to fix?"

I feel a little reluctant to part with this body that I have lived with for more than 20 years.

"what do you think?"

The draft whistled from the big hole in the chest, stating the fact that this body was completely useless over and over again.

"Okay, feed it to the hungry ghosts."

"Is that really the decision?"

"Hey, can you help me think about the news, human affairs have to end well."

"It's simple, just ask a few mortals who are also working in hell to go back and do it for you." Granny Meng stuffed another handful of fruit shells into her pocket, "But they might scare you when they see you dead. Resigned. If we are in hell, there will be a few less officials, and it will all depend on you, the writer."

"Then I can't do anything about writing."

Granny Meng pulled up the sapphire pen from the ground and threw it into my hand, and I caught it in the air hastily.

"That's it, I'll do it for you like this. I owe another favor, how will the writer plan to repay it?"

"I have no real plans. When the time comes, I will probably know how to pay back."

"Haha, what a serious answer." Granny Meng rolled up her sleeves and carried the corpse on the ground across her shoulders, as easily as picking up an empty sack. I have a bowl of soup."

"Yes." I cupped my hands.

The door of the office was closed, and everything returned to silence.I leaned back at the table, as I usually do after receiving guests.

At the moment, my heart is still full of doubts.Yeah, writing, where are you going to go next?

I looked down at my hands, which were transparent and faintly glowing green, the color of which was like a sapphire pen.If the physical body is dead, maybe the activities in this hell will be very different?I put on my cloak and walked out of the office.

I wanted to go to Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva and ask what to do next.But when I think about it carefully, where to go and what to do, I already know the law of reincarnation in hell and earth.

If you go to Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, you will probably be asked again: "Will you continue to write?"

keep going!keep going!
I would definitely answer that.I'm dead, and I have nothing to worry about. It's a good thing to change from a part-time job to a full-time job!

Ultimately, the final choice for this job is still with me.If you don't want to do it, you should resign and resign, and you should reincarnate.Or, like that centaur brother, play a lap in hell first, and then think about the future.

I suddenly wanted to see what other mortals in hell were doing.

The body of a mortal is gone, and the smell that is unique to humans has disappeared.The cloak covered my green light, walking in hell, just like ordinary ghosts and monsters, no longer attracting all kinds of strange eyes.

This is also very good, more convenient to work.

I heard before that the people and horse brothers said that most mortals are doing the document formalities leading to various dimensions, and the principle is probably the same as that of the airport customs.

I paced to the gate of Hell Customs and stopped.In the customs building, the figures of busy humans shine through the glass with a little bit of twilight.I watched in place for a while, and suddenly lost interest in visiting other mortals.

Everyone has limited working time in hell, and they have to deal with so many things, so they probably don't have time to be disturbed by a soul.

What's more, I just died, also as a human being.

I turned and left the customs house, wandering aimlessly through hell.At this moment, I am really like a wandering soul, I don't know where to go next, what to do, my heart is empty, and no one cares about it.

The soul's perception of sound is very different from that of the body, and the noisy sea of ​​blood in the past has now become pleasant to the ear.On the Suicide Cliff, there are still souls screaming, falling from a high altitude, like a never-ending summer rainstorm.

Before I knew it, I had reached the gate of the Hungry Ghost Path.A few bull-headed horse-faced animals are throwing fresh meat into the hungry ghosts like feeding lions in a zoo.A few familiar purple-red rags were still stuck to the meat.The hungry ghost probably hadn't tasted fresh human flesh for a long time, roaring and gushing out from behind the door, but because they couldn't break through the barrier, they waved their hands in the air.Countless pairs of blood-red eyes stared at the pieces of meat flying in the air, rushing to eat them.

I watched this scene of hungry ghosts vying for food, and for the first time felt that my body was so welcome. (Although I am embarrassed to admit it, I am a little happy in my heart.)
There are too many hungry ghosts, and the meat is limited, so they actually started fighting with each other.For a moment, pieces of meat and limbs scattered in the air, screaming again and again.The cow head and horse face didn't seem to hear, and continued to pull out long intestines and organs I called unknown from a big red bucket and threw them behind the door.

I sat at the door watching this fierce battle, and suddenly felt a little sad in my heart - if I ate a little fatter, maybe they could eat a few more pieces of meat?This idea popped up, but was quickly refuted by another idea—you are so greedy, writing, no matter how fat you are, you still can’t feed all the sentient beings in the hungry ghost realm.

The chunks of meat in the vat have been mostly fed clean, and I seem to have witnessed my own funeral.Clean and crisp, make the best use of everything.Although there is no music as a companion, the sound of hungry ghosts chewing and gnawing is enough.The physical body is gone, and I seem to be relaxed, humming a little tune, and dancing involuntarily under my feet.

The office in the distance is like a giant obsidian, placed on the ground of hell.

My footsteps continued to bounce and spin, and at the gate of the Hungry Ghost Road, I looked far away at the office that accompanied me day and night.

Why do you stick to it, why do you write, everything gradually becomes clear.

At this moment, it is dawn in the distant world.

(End of this chapter)