Chunran

Chunran was a chef. They still are, technically, though their pantry now consists of glowing fungi, ash-dusted roots, and whatever scuttles away from their guiding lanterns too slowly. They arrived in The Underworld by accident—a misplaced step through a gateway beneath a pale tree—and have been trying to make the best of it ever since. Their shocked expression is not one of fear, but of perpetual culinary surprise. Every dish is a new, often horrifying, frontier. Just last week, a silent, undead warrior gave a thumbs-up to their 'Black Slosh Reduction,' a review that has left Chunran questioning every choice they have ever made. They still wear the clean kimono, a small rebellion against the grime and despair.