It had been nearly a week since Su Fan returned to the antique shop.
During this time, aside from his usual cultivation practice, he’d been keeping the store open. Although the number of customers coming specifically to buy had dropped, Su Fan’s reputation as an antique appraiser had already spread far and wide.
As the saying goes, antiques thrive in times of peace, and gold flourishes in times of chaos. In this line of business, it’s perfectly normal not to make a sale for half a year, and then make enough in one transaction to last the next six months.
Many in the industry, after acquiring artifacts from within the Chinese cultural sphere, would think of that sharp-tongued young antique shop owner.
On the surface, business seemed slow, but behind the scenes, there was a steady stream of contacts between buyers and sellers. As a middleman and part-time appraiser, Su Fan earned a commission on each antique transaction.
Even without relying on exorcism, his income was quite substantial.
Every day, he’d tidy up the shop, read a few books, and live a relatively leisurely life.
When the Warrens heard that Su Fan had dealt with yet another of the seventy-two demons, they were thoroughly shaken. They immediately sought out Teresa in the hospital to confirm the news.
After verifying the details and having a long conversation with her, the Warrens decided to pay Su Fan a reward of one million dollars.
Su Fan wasn’t surprised by the amount at all.
Over the years, the couple had worked extensively as mediums and published several bestsellers, amassing a considerable fortune. Just the accounts of those three exorcism cases alone would earn them a pretty penny in book sales and speaking engagements.
A million dollars seemed about right.
Su Fan figured that in a few more months, he’d finally be able to officially buy the shop outright.
Just thinking about that goal getting closer had put him in a pretty good mood these past few days.
Still, it was best to keep his future fantasies in check. Go too far, and he’d just be daydreaming.
Shaking off those thoughts, Su Fan turned his attention back to the book in his hands.
The text sitting on the counter wasn’t a complete collection of talismans, nor was it the Huangting Jing. Instead, it was a basic primer on feng shui geomancy.
Now that the shop was practically his, Su Fan could finally put into motion the enhancement plan for his residence that he’d been considering for a while.
Even before confronting Paimon, he’d been thinking about reinforcing the shop’s defenses. The more exorcisms he performed, the more his name spread—not just among mediums and exorcists, but beyond.
To prevent any malevolent entities from breaking in and causing havoc while he was away, Su Fan had come up with the idea of setting up defensive formations.
But formations required a lot of materials—rare and precious items that couldn’t be bought even with money. Gathering everything would take a mix of luck, connections, and deep pockets.
Besides, at the time, Su Fan’s top priority had been improving his own combat abilities. He simply didn’t have the time to delve into this. The best he could do was have the Winchester brothers install a warding totem in the shop to fend off demonic invasions.
He’d thought that would be enough—until he ended up forging a blood feud with Paimon and failing to finish him off. And then, from Malthus, he learned that his name had become quite famous down in Hell.
Now that his finances and strength were solid enough, Su Fan decided to move forward with studying formations and feng shui.
Today marked the sixth day he’d been poring over these books.
After yet another careful reading, a notification finally appeared in his mind.
[You have studied the fundamentals of feng shui geomancy and gained a basic understanding of the discipline.]
Seeing the familiar system prompt, Su Fan knew that his efforts over the past few days had paid off.
Just then, the phone on the counter started ringing.
He picked it up—it was Sheriff Dyson.
“A sudden call—what’s up?”
“You’ve really handed me a tough one this time, Su.”
Dyson’s voice carried a hint of bitterness.
After visiting Teresa in the hospital and returning, Su Fan had told Dyson everything he’d seen and heard there. To Dyson, any case involving human lives was never trivial. So, right after their conversation, he’d launched an investigation.
“As you know, there have been a lot of weird incidents happening lately,” Dyson continued. “Everyone’s attention has been focused on those, and ordinary security issues have kind of been overlooked.
I’ve been digging for information on my own these past few days.
And just as you said—the people who’ve vanished into thin air are all Black. Not only that, but they were all in peak physical condition.”
Su Fan listened quietly, not surprised at all.
In Black communities, public security was often chaotic, with gangs entrenched and guns widespread. Shootouts between rival factions claimed countless lives. Even without any supernatural mischief, few people would notice a Black person suddenly disappearing.
Beyond that, there were family factors as well.
It was no secret that in the Western world, it wasn’t uncommon for fathers to disappear shortly after a child was born. And Black fathers, in particular, had a reputation for the weakest sense of moral and familial responsibility. It was all too common for Black children to grow up never having met their fathers.
With the father gone, the mother’s situation was often bleak. If she remarried, the relationship between the stepfather and the child, along with other dynamics, would usually drive a wedge between mother and child.
So, if someone were trafficking organs or performing illegal surgeries, Black individuals would be the ideal targets.
“The only reason we’ve been able to track this is that several of the missing were young athletes with promising futures, already making a name for themselves.
If we’ve found that many, imagine the ones that haven’t been reported…”
Sheriff Dyson paused, not finishing the sentence—but the implication was clear.
He understood that Su Fan had brought this to him because it was purely human crime. What he hadn’t expected was to uncover such a shocking case right in his own jurisdiction.
“From the clues left behind by some of the missing, we’ve zeroed in on a suspicious location…
But it’s in a well-known wealthy enclave. On my own, without a search warrant, I can’t even get through the gates.
And if I keep pushing, it’s likely to drag in a lot of big names.”
Su Fan stayed silent, waiting for the rest.
Back before Dyson was promoted, he’d chased a single case all the way from Los Angeles to New Orleans, Louisiana. He found it hard to believe that a few wealthy individuals would make him back down now.
“What I’m afraid of is that even if we uncover something, it’ll end up going nowhere in the end.
You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Su Fan replied.
After a moment of thought, he spoke again.
“About this—you might want to hold off for now.
Human greed is insatiable. Eventually, their ever-growing ambitions will push them to make a big move. When that happens, you can…”
—make your move.
But before Su Fan could finish the sentence, he suddenly frowned.
Just then, he’d felt a subtle premonition.
Extending his spiritual sense outward, it immediately covered a radius of five hundred meters.
A moment later, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.
