I Deliver to the Dead—But She Ordered Herself / Chapter 3: Dead, Missing, or Forgotten?
I Deliver to the Dead—But She Ordered Herself

I Deliver to the Dead—But She Ordered Herself

Author: Michael Oliver

Chapter 3: Dead, Missing, or Forgotten?

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This message was also clearly heard by the viewers. Now the comments section was completely dumbfounded:

[Could not find the recipient? That means not dead!]

[But didn’t the ‘SnackingOnPopcorn’ user say they died a long time ago?!]

[What is happening?! 🤯]

In the livestream, Marissa mechanically got up from the ground. She wandered aimlessly around the bedroom, but when she raised her hand to open the door, she flinched, like she’d been zapped, then numbly turned back into the bedroom.

The viewers all turned into Sherlock Holmes:

[The host just said Marissa’s memorial offerings couldn’t find the recipient in the afterlife. Doesn’t that mean she’s not dead?]

[Definitely not dead. If she was, how could she be livestreaming with us?]

[If she’s not dead, this must be a stress disorder. Maybe she can’t accept her loved ones’ deaths, so she forgets all related memories.]

[Impossible, if that’s the case, why didn’t her family notice?]

[Yeah! She must have family, right? Her own mother can’t not know if she’s alive or dead, right?]

No matter how much they argued, there was no conclusion, and some troublemakers started questioning me:

[What kind of afterlife delivery person are you? Can’t you make mistakes?]

[She’s just keeping us in suspense!]

[She must have failed in the afterlife, that’s why she’s come to scam people in the living world!]

Seeing these negative comments, I smiled on the livestream: "I, Autumn Harper, am not very capable, but I am very vengeful~ You few, after you die, if you see me in the afterlife, remember to take a detour, or at least buy me a drink first."

[Who the hell are you? I’ll be dead, why would I be afraid of you?]

[Still bow to you? Why? Are you the Devil’s daughter or something?!]

I smiled: "What a coincidence, I actually am."

The comments section went silent, then was flooded with exploding emojis.

I checked the time; any later and I’d be delaying my money-making livestream.

"Alright, back to the point."

"I can tell everyone, Marissa Lane... is indeed dead."

As soon as I finished, Marissa suddenly ran to the camera:

"The doctor said I have less than a month to live! I want to prepare some things for myself in the afterlife in advance!"

As soon as she met my eyes, she started talking non-stop: "Autumn, get your notebook and write this down: My name is Marissa Lane, detailed address and date of birth are..."

After introducing herself, she placed the same massive order:

"Give me three mansions and three ranches each; one of every model of Tesla and Porsche. Stock up three years’ worth of chicken, beef, fish, and groceries for me. By the way, can you farm in the afterlife? If you can, give me a thousand acres of land!"

And there it was again. The exact same order, word for word. I felt the hair on my arms stand up. The chat caught on, too.

[She’s saying the exact same things as before!]

[She’s repeating!]

[Could she be trapped in time?]

[She’s dead, but stuck in this room?]

[No wonder the afterlife can’t find her!]

At that moment, we heard the bedroom door creak open! Marissa was startled and instinctively looked toward the door.

Three people stood there. One, a gray-haired old lady, immediately noticed the livestreaming phone, walked right through Marissa, like she wasn’t even there, and exclaimed:

"What’s going on? My daughter has been dead for six years! How is her phone still on!"

The old lady shakily took out her own phone, and we saw her face go from confusion to tears: "It’s my daughter! It must be her!"

She cried almost to the point of fainting, and a tall man about 6’3” supported her. By his voice, he was the ‘SnackingOnPopcorn’ user: "Ma’am, don’t be sad, take care of yourself."

He had just finished speaking when a sharp, sarcastic voice came from behind: "You old hag, are you done? This is my house! If it weren’t for Greg, I’d have nothing to do with your Lane family!"

"You!" The old lady clutched her chest, looking at the other old woman. "Your son died, but my daughter died too! That night, Ryan said he wanted to take me home, but I said you’d been drinking and couldn’t drive, so in the end, Greg took me."

"What do you mean! My son was killed by a mugger while taking you home, and now you turn it around and deny it!"

The old woman pointed at the old lady: "I’m telling you! Your daughter deserved to die! She’s cursed! She brings nothing but trouble!"

The comments section focused on Greg.

[Greg? The tall guy behind the old lady? The ‘SnackingOnPopcorn’ user? He seems to have a special relationship with these two families!]

[Think about it! Who else but a neighbor would send the bride’s mother home on the wedding night?]

[What’s the big deal? Didn’t they say he was a neighbor?]

[Would your neighbor go this far? First help the groom take the mother-in-law home, then, after the groom dies, keep visiting the bride despite all the gossip?]

[So does this mean the child in the bride’s belly is his?!]

[I bet Greg did it!]

‘SnackingOnPopcorn’ suddenly requested to connect with me again. As soon as he joined, he angrily retorted:

"I, Greg Porter, have got nothing to hide! Don’t slander me! Besides, how could I kill Ryan Decker? I’m close to both families because I grew up with Marissa and Ryan!"

A comment floated by: [Grew up together? In a trio, someone always has a crush, so you like Marissa, right?]

Greg froze, suddenly speechless. Meanwhile, the bedroom scene had turned from quarreling to cursing, and the two old ladies were nearly fighting. Greg stepped in to pull them apart: "Alright! Every time you meet, you fight! You’re both old! What’s the rush? You’ll have plenty of chances to fight in the afterlife!"

Ryan’s mother sobbed. Marissa’s mother, crying, opened her phone and kept scrolling. At this moment, we noticed Marissa standing in the corner, watching everything, then slowly moving in front of the elderly, reaching out to stroke her mother’s graying hair, but no matter how hard she tried, her fingers seemed transparent, unable to touch.

Marissa broke down. She squatted, crying, trying to hug her now-aged mother. After a while, Marissa raised her head, tears streaming down her face: "Mom, so I’m already dead... No wonder I can’t leave this room, no wonder my calls never go through, no wonder when Ryan came in, he couldn’t see me."

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