Running A Cemetery in North America

"Don't blame us; you're the ones who went against the boss. If you chose to seek death, you can only blame yourselves."

A muscular man with a cigarette clenched in his teeth said viciously, then gestured with his hand.

The subordinates immediately fetched burlap sacks, stuffing the couple inside. They attached a few weights to the sack and then hurled it into the Sacramento River with force.

Once the splash and ripples faded, the two sacks didn't resurface; sooner or later, they sank to the riverbed.

"Boss, why has the boss been in such a hurry to demolish those old buildings lately? This is already the third time this month we've gotten rid of those who dare to stand against him. If this goes on, it's hard to say our actions won't be discovered," a muscular man couldn't help but ask.

"Fool, some things shouldn't be questioned. The boss has his plans; we just need to follow through. You wouldn't want to be the ones sinking into the river someday, right?"

The leader flicked his cigarette into the river, then got into the car. The Land Rover quickly disappeared at the end of the road.

The next day.

A few white men with fishing rods arrived by the riverbank. Finding a suitable fishing spot, they set up their nets and chairs right there and cast their lines.

Who knows how long passed, but suddenly one of the white men felt the rod sink. He was overjoyed and eagerly exerted himself, intending to reel in the fish he caught.

To his surprise, the rod felt extremely burdensome, even bending into a U-shape.

After much strenuous effort, he finally pulled a dark shadow out of the river. Upon dragging it ashore and seeing it, he found it was a sack covered in water plants and fishing lines.

"This..."

The fishermen exchanged glances, all feeling a bit puzzled.

One with a bigger build pulled out his Swiss Army knife and cut the sack open.

Instantly, a bloated corpse, pale and wrapped in water plants, its limbs bundled, emerged for all to see.

"Ah, shit!"

"F**K, ugh."

The group of white fishermen retreated several steps in fright, hurriedly fishing out their phones to report it.

In their panic, none noticed the corpse's abdomen gently heaving, a slight motion of inhaling and exhaling.

...

A few police cars stopped by the riverside; Chief Henry arrived at the scene with several officers.

Since the station installed an Earth Shrine, Chief Henry had felt at ease. Thanks to the shrine, his jurisdiction hadn't seen an Evil Spirit incident in months, and everything became quite peaceful.

So much so that Chief Henry almost forgot Evil Spirits existed in this world.

Just recently, his jurisdiction received a report. Upon learning that a burlap sack containing a body was fished out of the Sacramento River, Chief Henry promptly mobilized officers to check the specific situation on the scene.

"Officer, that's the thing; it's truly terrifying. In my life of fishing, I've never pulled up anything like this, shit."

Seeing Chief Henry approach, a fisherman immediately ran to his side, nervously explaining.

"Let me take a look, no need to panic."

Henry adjusted his belt, approached the body in the sack; even as a professional handling such matters.

After smelling the strange odor emanating from the corpse, Henry felt a bit nauseous inside.

The odor was peculiar, neither stagnant water nor decomposition, stronger than a dead rat's stench.

With merely a glance, Henry lost interest.

In California, countless homeless people die daily; they're addicts, many dying in rivers. There's no need for a serious investigation.

Just take it back for incineration, and that would be the end of it. Just as Henry was about to ask for a body bag to pack the corpse.

The corpse with pale pupils suddenly shifted its eyes.

"Shit! Officer, this corpse is still alive, it's moving!"

Suddenly, a nearby fisherman shouted in panic, startling Henry, who quickly stepped back.

But no matter how he looked, the body in the sack showed no signs of movement. Immediately displeased, he scolded, "What nonsense are you talking about? How could a corpse be alive? Shut up."

The fisherman trembled, wanting to say more, but his companions quickly restrained him, indicating for him to stay calm.

People often experience hallucinations when panicked.

With the body packed into the bag, Henry left without a backward glance; he felt the stench absorbed into his nostrils, as if it lingered in the bronchial tubes.

Even though the air was well-ventilated, he still felt the omnipresent stench, just shy of making him want to vomit.

"Got a cig, buddy? It's rotten luck dealing with something like this." Receiving a cigarette from his subordinate officer, Henry immediately lit it to neutralize the strange odor in his nasal cavity.

After the officers departed, the remaining white fishermen soon calmed down and returned to their spots to continue fishing.

In this world, nothing can distract a fisherman who is fishing.

Half an hour later.

"Hum, hum, hum."

One fisherman, rod in hand, suddenly let out a cold laugh.

Initially, no one paid attention, but as the sounds grew increasingly strange, finally someone couldn't stand it and voiced their protest: "Hey, Paul, could you shut your mouth and stop making those weird noises?"