Post-Post-Apocalyptic Deliveryman (2)

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As everyone knows, the etymology of teleport comes from 'tele-post.' Developed during the Fourth Pan-Pacific Limited Unlimited War, it was built as a strategic infrastructure where putting an item into a post would instantly transfer it to another distant post, and after the war, it spread in a sense. It spread too much.
The development was led by the then-Japanese Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications, which had been re-nationalized and was in charge of material supply and communications. After all, it was wartime. A groundbreaking infrastructure would be meaningless if it were destroyed. Reversible quantization and mass-reduction of matter had not yet been put into practical use, and organic missiles containing metal-decomposing nanobacteria were constantly flying in, trying their best to return the country to the Stone Age.
So, they gave it self-replication capabilities.
They figured that if it broke, it would just multiply, so it wouldn't be a problem.
It seems they didn't consider that the control system for self-replication might be broken.
Ground Zero was likely the Imperial Capital, Kasumigaseki.
No one knows the total number of posts that continue to multiply even now; they ended the war, ended civilization, but barely stopped short of ending the world. This is because when they self-replicate, the contents inside multiply along with them, bringing forth an almost infinite supply of water and food.Thus, a post-post-apocalyptic world was born.

I am a 'Sagawar'—a deliveryman who travels through such a world. Collecting the contents of posts and delivering them to where they are needed is the most common profession in this world.
Does it look easy? Actually, it's not.
After all, it was wartime. It was natural for stolen infrastructure to be used by the enemy. That's why they had countermeasures in place. You can't open a post without verifying your Postal Service ID. That's fine. You can just pry it open.
The problem was that if you pried it open, the contents would be transferred randomly, and sometimes unspeakable things would be mixed in.

"SHHHHHHHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
The monster scattering terrifying dissolving slime from its eight eyes and countless tentacles is called a 'Stamp Collector.' The name comes from the fact that it peels the skin off the faces of those it devours and sticks it onto its own body. This one is still a small fry, having eaten only three people as far as I can confirm.
It's probably not something created by the Ministry of Posts. The theory of teleportation captures the state of a cluttered post office as a wave function and uses that as a base to send matter through the '〒' space.
If the destination is unknown or the postage is insufficient during that process, monsters like this are generated. It used to only connect Japan to the front lines, but now the posts scattered everywhere in the world are infinitely increasing the chaos and entropy of that network, so the probability of a monster coming out when you open a post is correspondingly high.
BLAME! BLAME! BLAME!
I fired a three-round burst from the .52 caliber Sig-Sagawar machine pistol I held firmly in both hands. It hit the exposed, blasphemous meatball-like brain of the Stamp Collector without fail.
"GRUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"
The monster screamed and scattered dissolving slime in all directions, but I blocked it with the shell of my delivery box—made of heavy metal from stable transuranic elements—and then fired in full auto.
BBBBBLLLLLAAAAAMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!!
In the backlight, the shadow of the Stamp Collector, which looked like a crazed sea anemone, was partially missing and scattered.
"RE-DELIVERY... IS NOT... ACCEPTED...!"
With a mysterious dying groan, it twitched once and stopped moving. I watched it for a while, holding my breath, and once I confirmed it wouldn't start moving again, I crawled out of the delivery box.
"Ugh..."
Purple body fluid soaked into the Sahara sand. I carefully approached the post, making sure not to step in the fluid. Between the delivery drones, the delivery box, and even a Stamp Collector, it was quite a struggle. If the contents of the post I was aiming for turned out to be a bust, it would be my first big loss in a long time.
That post was blue.
"There's definitely treasure sleeping in here...!"
Various legends surround blue posts. Unable to suppress my excitement, I opened... the belly of the post!
Whoosh!! Pure white cold air leaked out violently! Yes, a legendary-class delivery, a refrigerated shipment!
I carefully took out the very heavy Styrofoam container and opened the lid almost reverently...!
"What..."
What was inside was not the frozen organic nano-units or entropy-neutralizing refrigerants I had been expecting.

It was a frozen girl.

[To be continued]