The afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Lucien's antique shop, casting long golden lines across the shelves. The store had been unusually lively these past few days. Ever since the appraisal show aired, more and more people had started visiting.
Some came out of curiosity.
Some came because of rumors.
Others simply wanted to see the young antique owner who had publicly destroyed an old man's confidence and sent him directly toward an ambulance.
Business had improved.
Lucien was satisfied.
A peaceful life, a profitable shop, steady cultivation progress—it wasn't bad.
At that moment, while Jamie sat across from him sipping tea, Lucien's phone suddenly vibrated.
Ding.
A message notification.
Lucien glanced casually at the screen.
Then his eyebrow rose slightly.
Bank transfer received.
Amount: 700,000 USD
"...Looks like there's nothing left to discuss."
He placed the phone on the table and shrugged.
Across from him, Jamie blinked.
"That's... a lot of money."
Lucien nodded calmly.
Scarlett had probably gotten his account information through her father and transferred the payment directly.
Very efficient.
Very straightforward.
He appreciated people like that.
Not long after, his phone rang again.
Lucien looked down at the caller ID before answering.
A familiar mature voice sounded from the other side.
"Lucien, did you receive the transfer?"
"I did."
"Good."
Scarlett sounded pleased.
Then her tone became lighter.
"My father wanted to formally thank you in person. And so did I."
Lucien instantly understood.
Thanking him in person?
That usually translated to dinner.
Maybe drinks.
Possibly more conversations afterward.
Too troublesome.
The antique shop had only recently started gaining momentum.
Closing the shop for half a day just to eat a meal?
Not worth it.
"Tell Mr. Carsten that formal thanks aren't necessary."
Lucien leaned back in his chair lazily.
"I accepted payment and did my job."
"If you're satisfied, feel free to contact me again if something similar happens."
Silence.
Then Scarlett laughed softly.
"So I can contact you again?"
"Of course."
Lucien answered without hesitation.
Exorcising evil spirits wasn't exactly a burden.
It improved his abilities.
Gave practical experience.
And paid extremely well.
As long as the next supernatural problem wasn't something absurd like Death itself trying to murder people, he had no objections.
Scarlett sounded surprisingly happy.
"Then it's settled."
"I look forward to seeing you again."
Lucien stared silently at his phone after the call ended.
"..."
Seeing him again meant another supernatural disaster.
Was she really that excited?
Women were difficult to understand.
Across from him, Jamie wore a strange expression.
Lucien noticed immediately.
"What's with that face?"
Jamie coughed.
"Nothing."
But his eyes said otherwise.
He glanced at Lucien again.
Then again.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
"...Speak."
Jamie hesitated.
Then sighed.
No.
Forget it.
There was no point.
This man clearly understood antiques better than human emotions.
Some things simply couldn't be taught.
Lucien looked at him for several seconds before changing the subject.
"No one comes here for no reason."
"What happened this time?"
"You—or one of your friends?"
Jamie's expression immediately turned bitter.
"It's... strange."
"Ever since the Mary Shaw incident..."
"I keep running into weird things."
Lucien calmly poured another cup of tea.
"That's normal."
Jamie looked up.
Lucien continued:
"Once someone discovers another side of reality exists..."
"...they begin noticing things they ignored before."
The world didn't suddenly become stranger.
People simply opened their eyes.
Jamie fell silent.
Then slowly began explaining.
Because of Rachel, he had abandoned his old travel plans and purchased an apartment in downtown Los Angeles.
The place was expensive.
Very expensive.
But Jamie had money.
His neighbors included a father and daughter, along with a Black couple living nearby.
Normally there wouldn't have been any problems.
Except...
The wife of that couple behaved strangely.
Very strangely.
She often muttered incomprehensible things in the hallway.
At first people ignored her.
Apparently everyone in the building had become used to it.
But Jamie couldn't ignore it.
Not after Mary Shaw.
Not after dolls.
Not after nearly dying.
He had become extremely sensitive toward anything supernatural.
Then one day—
he heard her muttering again.
"Evil things..."
"...inside the vents..."
"...watching..."
Jamie's instincts immediately reacted.
So he began paying attention.
And soon—
he discovered the daughter next door playing some kind of spirit summoning game.
Lucien paused.
Then looked up.
"...Seriously?"
Jamie nodded helplessly.
"I warned her."
"Told her not to mess with things like that."
"But she didn't listen."
He laughed bitterly.
"Honestly... I think I understand how you felt before."
Lucien raised an eyebrow.
Jamie rubbed his forehead.
"People never listen."
"They think they're different."
"They think nothing will happen."
"And only after disaster arrives do they regret it."
Lucien quietly drank his tea.
Because Jamie wasn't wrong.
Humans rarely learned through words.
Most learned through pain.
Jamie continued.
"And then strange things started happening."
"The ventilation ducts began making sounds at night."
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What kind of sounds?"
Jamie swallowed.
"...Breathing."
Heavy breathing.
Like someone wearing an oxygen mask.
Slow.
Wet.
Close.
Lucien said nothing.
Jamie continued speaking.
"And elevators..."
"Sometimes I'd press fourth floor..."
"...and it'd go to fifth."
"The maintenance workers checked everything."
"They found nothing."
Silence filled the shop.
Jamie's voice lowered.
"So..."
"...am I overthinking this?"
He looked genuinely hopeful.
Because if he was merely paranoid—
that would be wonderful.
But unfortunately—
Lucien put down his teacup.
"No."
Jamie's face instantly collapsed.
Lucien spoke calmly:
"If everything you said is true..."
"...then you're dealing with an evil spirit."
Jamie slumped backward dramatically.
A long exhausted sigh escaped him.
Of course.
Of course.
Why was he even asking anymore?
At this point supernatural disasters practically followed him like stray cats.
Meanwhile Lucien stood and walked toward shelves at the back.
Jamie blinked.
His eyes widened.
"Wait."
"Are you looking for talismans?"
"No."
Lucien continued searching.
"I'm looking for something else."
After several moments, he finally pulled out an old book.
Jamie stared.
"...A book?"
Lucien nodded.
"Zi Wei Dou Shu."
"Give me your birth date later."
"I want to calculate something."
Jamie looked confused.
Lucien glanced at him.
"In two or three months you've encountered supernatural incidents three separate times."
"That's nearly once every month."
"Someone with your constitution is rare."
"Attracting negative energy while somehow surviving every time?"
He shook his head.
"Interesting."
Very interesting.
Jamie suddenly felt uneasy.
"...Lucien."
"You said evil spirit."
"Shouldn't you sell me a few talismans or something?"
Lucien opened the book.
Didn't even look up.
"Why panic?"
Jamie's eye twitched.
Why panic?
Why?!
There was apparently a ghost living in his apartment walls!
Lucien turned a page.
"The girl summoned something."
"Anything that appears will find her first."
"If you're still worried..."
"I'll give you two exorcism talismans."
Jamie's expression improved slightly.
Slightly.
Then Lucien added:
"But you've already warned her."
"She ignored you."
"What exactly are you planning to do?"
Jamie froze.
Because he genuinely didn't know.
Lucien glanced at him.
"Look at you."
"A grown man acting like an impulsive teenager."
Jamie looked offended.
Lucien ignored him.
"From what you've described..."
"...this spirit isn't directly killing people."
Jamie blinked.
"What does that mean?"
Lucien flipped another page calmly.
"Strong spirits can kill immediately."
"Like Mary Shaw."
"Or the thing Annie encountered before."
"Weaker ones can't."
"They create fear."
"They slowly wear down psychological defenses."
"They let anxiety grow."
"They feed on it."
Only after fear completely consumed someone—
would they strike.
Lucien continued reading while speaking.
Perfectly multitasking.
"The noises."
"The elevator."
"The disturbances."
"It's creating pressure."
"Making everyone afraid."
"If it truly possessed enough power to kill directly..."
Lucien finally looked up.
"It would've already slaughtered the residents."
Silence.
Jamie's face slowly stiffened.
Then became pale.
Then—
very slowly—
he looked toward the apartment building outside the shop window.
For some reason...
he suddenly remembered the sound of breathing inside the vents.
Heavy.
Slow.
Like something waiting.
Watching.
Listening.
And for the first time—
Jamie wasn't sure he wanted to go home tonight.