Her Driver’s Drunk Mistake, Her Family’s Tears

It was around 10 p.m. on Halloween Night.

I was driving the last batch of my “passengers” toward Greenwood Cemetery.

On the way, a brandnew Maybach suddenly swerved into my lane and slammed into my van.

Right after, the drunk driver staggered out, pointing at me and cursing loudly:

“You blind idiot! Driving that junky old van, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“You scratched Miss Lee’s car! Even if we sold you, you couldn’t afford the damage.”

From the luxury car, a woman gave me a cold glance. She told the driver:

“Forget it. Don’t waste time on this worthless nobody. Just get me home—I need to meet my fiancé. If I’m late, Grandpa will be furious.”

The driver smashed my window, spat out a few more curses, then got back into the car and drove off.

My expression twisted. That woman must be Vanessa Lee, the Lee family’s cherished heiress!

And I… was her fiancé. The only problem was—she didn’t know me yet.

I shook my head with a sigh, about to restart my battered van and head toward Greenwood Cemetery, when my eyes suddenly narrowed.

One of my “passengers” was missing.

Damn, this was trouble.

At the moment of the crash, I had instinctively glanced toward the back.

Thankfully, all eight urns remained intact.

Eight ghostly figures sat quietly on top of the urns—men, women, young, old—each gazing coldly out the window without expression.

I calmed them, saying:

“Stay put. Don’t lose control. I promise I’ll get you all to Hell’s Gate before midnight. Don’t make trouble now.”

The moment my words fell, before any of the spirits responded, my side window shattered under the swing of a steel baseball bat.

The Maybach’s driver, Tony Brown, drunk and reeking of liquor, stood there pointing the bat at my face and shouted:

“You damn bastard, get out here!”

“You worthless piece of trash! Driving a rusted van, and you dare to scratch Miss Lee’s car? Do you have a death wish?”

“Tonight, I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

He cursed as he smashed my van’s windows over and over.

If I didn’t get out soon, he really might tear the whole vehicle apart.

As I stepped out, Tony swung the bat straight at my head.

Drunk as he was, he acted on pure impulse. If it had been anyone else, one unlucky strike could’ve been fatal.

I sidestepped, snatched the bat from his hands, and tossed it aside.

Frowning, I told him:

“You were driving drunk. You’re the one who hit me, and now you’re—”

Before I could finish, Tony glared at me with bloodshot eyes and barked:

“You should be grateful I’m even hitting you! And you dare dodge?”

“So what if I’m drunk driving? Do you even know who I am? I’m Miss Lee’s personal driver!”

“You crossed Miss Lee—you know what happens to people like you?”

“Kneel down and apologize right now, or you’re dead!”

As he shouted, I glanced toward the Maybach.

The back window slid down, revealing the striking face of Vanessa Lee.

I knew Vanessa and Tony, though neither of them knew me.

Vanessa’s eyes flickered with disdain as she looked at me. Clearly tipsy herself, she snapped at Tony:

“Quit wasting time with this worthless nobody. Just drive me home—I need to meet that fiancé I’ve never even seen.”

“If I’m late, Grandpa will lose his temper again!”

As soon as Vanessa finished, Tony snarled at me:

“Consider yourself lucky tonight, bastard. Next time I see you, you’re dead meat!”

Without waiting for me to reply, he drove off with Vanessa.

I stood there, bemused, muttering to myself:

“So this is the gentle, wellmannered Vanessa Lee Grandpa told me about?”

“Her personality is nothing like what he described. With such an arrogant, overbearing fiancée, I’m not sure I can go through with this marriage…”

I shook my head and let it go.

Even though Tony had drunkenly swerved and hit me, I didn’t call the cops.

After all, I had eight urns in my van. If the police showed up, I’d have a hard time explaining.

Most importantly, I had to get those eight “passengers” delivered to Greenwood Cemetery before midnight. No delays.

Just as I restarted the van, my eyes went wide—I nearly shouted.

Only seven urns remained.

One ghost was missing.

Could it be that while I argued with Tony, one of the “passengers” slipped away?

This was bad.

My family has always walked the line between the living and the dead.

We bless the living, guide the dead.

Each generation hides its true role behind an ordinary job.

My greatgreatgrandfather was an executioner.

My greatgrandfather ran a funeral home.

My grandfather served as a county coroner.

I had hoped to become a mortician at a crematory, but they only hired college graduates in mortuary science. That was frustrating.

In the end, following Grandpa’s advice, I got a driver’s license and became a “black car” driver.

Tonight was my hundredth job.

If I delivered these eight “passengers” safely to Greenwood Cemetery and through Hell’s Gate, I’d be considered fully trained, ready to carry the family mantle.

Then Grandpa could finally retire and spend his time line dancing with the ladies at the senior center.

Who would’ve thought tonight would turn into such a mess?

The seven ghosts left in the van stared at me, as if restless.

I snorted, bit my fingertip, and drew protective sigils of blood across the urns.

At once, the ghosts settled down.

Slamming the accelerator, I sped off in the direction the Maybach had gone.

The missing “passenger” was a deranged woman.

She’d once worked as a clerk at a luxury boutique, dealing with wealthy clients every day. Over time, she grew arrogant, looking down on the poor.

But just days ago, her life fell apart. Her husband fled town with gambling debts, she lost her job, and when creditors came knocking, she snapped.

Grabbing a kitchen knife, she lashed out—only to slip on the stairs and fall to her death.

Tonight, on Halloween, the gates of Hell stood open. And it was also her seventh night of returning.

If I didn’t send her through Hell’s Gate soon, she’d turn into a vengeful spirit and wreak havoc.

I was certain she was now inside Vanessa’s car.

I had to catch her before it was too late.

Half an hour later, I pulled up at the Lee Family Estate.

The Maybach was parked out front.

Tony sat in the driver’s seat, smoking and making a call.

“Yeah, I scraped a car tonight. Tomorrow I’ll bring it to you for repairs—jack up the price, Lee family will pay. We’ll split the profit fiftyfifty, same as before.”

“Oh, and that bastard I hit earlier pissed me off. Run his plates, get me his address. I need to teach him a lesson…”

He didn’t finish the call before spotting me pull up.

His face twisted in rage as he threw the phone aside and stormed out of the car.

“You son of a bitch! You dare follow us here, to—”

Before he could finish, I slapped him across the face.

It wasn’t because I couldn’t stand his filthy mouth—

The crazed woman’s ghost had hovered right behind him, ready to possess his body when she saw me approach.

My slap knocked her spirit away, sparing Tony’s life.

But Tony couldn’t accept it.

His eyes went bloodred as he roared:

“You hit me? I’ll kill you!”

He charged at me, fists flying.

I didn’t bother. A quick kick sent him sprawling several feet away.

Then I strode quickly toward the Maybach.

The madwoman’s ghost had slipped into the trunk—her urn was definitely inside.

Just as I reached to open it, Vanessa Lee emerged from the estate with two bodyguards at her side.

The moment her eyes fell on me, her brows furrowed.

When she saw Tony groaning on the ground, clutching his stomach, her frown deepened.

She glared coldly at me and barked:

“You’ve got some nerve—following me home, causing a scene at my family’s estate, and attacking my driver. Do you have a death wish?”

Helpless, I said:

“Miss Lee, this is all a misunderstanding. Something of mine ended up in your car. Let me deal with it, and I’ll explain afterward.”

It was nearly eleven o’clock. I still had to get those urns to Greenwood Cemetery before midnight.

But Vanessa didn’t believe a word.

“You assault my driver and accuse me of stealing from you? Are you insane?”

Tony staggered upright, hatred burning in his eyes. He told Vanessa:

“Miss, we can’t let this bastard off easy. He has to be taught a lesson—for daring to cause trouble at the Lee family’s gate!”

Vanessa nodded coolly and ordered her men:

“Break his arms and legs. Dump him outside the city. And do it quickly—Grandpa and Mr. Grant are inside waiting to meet my fiancé. Don’t disturb them.”

The two burly bodyguards didn’t hesitate. They lunged straight at me.

I sighed, then moved like lightning, knocking both bodyguards flat on the ground.

Vanessa Lee looked stunned.

Before she could react, I opened the trunk of the Maybach.

Sure enough, the urn of that deranged woman was inside.

She was perched on top of it, glaring at me with seething resentment, baring her teeth like a wild animal. The others couldn’t see her, but I could.

Just as I was about to use my fingertip blood to draw protective sigils on the urn, a crowd poured out of the Lee Family Estate.

Clearly, the commotion at the gate had drawn them out.

When they saw the two bodyguards I had dropped and the red, swollen handprint on Tony Brown’s face, the Lees froze in disbelief.

Charles Lee frowned deeply and demanded, “What’s going on here?”

Tony put on a pitiful, indignant look and cried out:

“Mr. Lee, this man has been stalking Miss Vanessa! He followed her home, made a scene at your gate, and even attacked us!”

Vanessa, furious, added:

“When Tony drove me home earlier, this man deliberately rammed my car! We let it go, but he had the nerve to follow us here. Then he attacked Tony and accused me of stealing from him.”

“Dad, he’s deliberately trying to humiliate our family!”

Charles scowled at me and barked:

“Who are you? Showing up at the Lee estate in the middle of the night to cause trouble—are you looking to die?”

“Tell the truth—who sent you here to stir up trouble?”

Before I could answer, Vanessa’s eyes lit up as a thought struck her. She quickly said to Charles:

“Dad, it must be one of our rivals! They know we’re about to form a business alliance with the Grant family. They’re worried we’ll climb even higher with their connections, so they sent this man to sabotage us.”

“The goal is obvious: to make Mr. Robert Grant and my fiancé think poorly of me, and destroy the engagement.”

The Lees immediately looked enlightened. Faces twisted with anger, they began cursing at me.

“Damn bastard, trying to ruin our family’s future! You’ve got some nerve.”

“We need to make an example out of him!”

“This alliance with the Grants cannot be disrupted. Old Mr. Lee worked so hard to secure this match!”

“Plenty of elite families begged for a connection with the Grants and failed. If it weren’t for Old Mr. Lee’s friendship with Robert, this opportunity would never have fallen to us. We won’t let anyone steal it away!”

“Cripple this fool. Show everyone what happens if they try to sabotage the Lees!”

Their angry glares left me speechless.

As the saying goes: the rot at the top spreads downward. From Vanessa’s arrogant behavior, it was clear what kind of people the Lees were.

And they wanted an alliance with the Grants?

Dream on.

Just as they prepared to attack me, my phone rang.

It was Grandpa.

I hit “answer,” and before I could say anything, Robert Grant’s cheerful voice came through the speaker:

“Ethan, still busy? Old Edward can’t wait to meet you. Hurry to the Lee estate!”