Su Fan understood now.
Because of his earlier advice, this deranged woman using the alias “Esther” had firmly set her sights on him.
[Fine, it’s not like I wasn’t planning to deal with her anyway.]
The male head of the Carter family and his eldest son had left an awful impression on him.
Their deeply ingrained white arrogance was practically oozing out of them.
Clearly, they wouldn’t take his words seriously.
But Kate, the mother, was gentle and kind-hearted. Out of respect for Old Man Su, she had been lenient with his rent and had shown him nothing but sincerity and goodwill.
For her sake, Su Fan had ultimately chosen to speak up.
Before this, Su Fan hadn’t known much about the family—he’d only met Kate a few times.
But now that he was certain of what they were facing, he could use the original movie’s plot and details to deduce the general situation of the Carter household.
Though Esther was the root cause of everything, the final tragedy was also inseparable from the father, John.
John was the classic oblivious horror-movie patriarch—completely unaware of the danger his wife and children were in, trusting only what he saw with his own eyes.
Under normal circumstances, this guy would later send his wife, Kate, to a psychiatric facility—all for Esther’s sake.
Absolutely absurd.
Later, after rejecting Esther’s advances, he’d be stabbed to death by her in a drunken frenzy.
Thanks to the family head’s incompetence, the eldest son, Daniel, would also be killed by Esther.
Only Kate and the younger daughter, Max, would survive after a desperate struggle to escape and fight back.
Honestly, men in horror movies like Jamie—brave and resourceful—were far too rare.
This time, Su Fan hoped John would wise up a little.
Though the chances were slim.
The only thing that left Su Fan speechless was that Esther had actually put him on her kill list.
These undead psychopaths were all mentally twisted.
Mary Shaw was like that, and now this female freak was the same.
For ordinary people, being targeted by them was no different from a death sentence.
But Su Fan would make them understand what it meant to be haunted by nightmares—no, wait, what it meant for evil to meet its retribution!
Su Fan began carefully considering when to make his move, but soon noticed something odd.
The last line of the prompt about Esther warned him to be extremely careful.
Careful of what?
As Su Fan pondered, the taxi came to a smooth stop near the antique shop.
After paying, he continued walking, still mulling it over.
Mary Shaw had been a malevolent spirit entrenched in the town for over seventy years, with countless victims to her name. Strictly speaking, she was practically a full-fledged demon.
Her power and eerie nature were such that even the local priest had been helpless against her.
And Esther?
She was just a physically deformed, psychologically twisted monster. Strip away her cruelty and cunning, and she probably couldn’t even beat Kate in a fight.
Compared to Mary Shaw, she wasn’t even in the same league of danger.
One kick from Su Fan, and she’d spin like a top.
Yet despite posing no real threat to him, the prompt had still given a “be extremely careful” warning.
Most likely, the situation with the Carter family wasn’t as simple as it seemed.
With this in mind, Su Fan pulled out the Talisman Compendium again.
Solving problems couldn’t always rely on brute force. As much as he’d love to send that goblin spinning like a top, if anyone saw, he’d probably be labeled a child-abusing freak.
Given how trigger-happy the cops in this country were, he might get mag-dumped before he could even explain Esther’s true nature.
If he wanted to resolve this smoothly, talismans were the way to go.
To Westerners, anything Eastern carried an air of mysticism, and they held a deep-seated fear of the occult.
One of the “Ten Commandments” of Western detective fiction even stated that no Chinese characters should appear in the story.
The reason? They believed Easterners possessed supernatural powers.
This ridiculous stereotype had evolved into the modern-day “all Chinese people know kung fu” trope.
In his past life, Su Fan had seen plenty of anecdotes—like international students dealing with racist teenagers by gesturing and chanting “Lín bīng dǒu zhě qiě zhèn liè qián xíng”, scaring them into apologizing.
Or roommates stealing food from the fridge, only to freeze in fear after seeing a few yellow talismans slapped on it.
If the cops showed up and saw Su Fan whipping out talismans that triggered supernatural effects, even the greenest rookie would think twice before messing with “Eastern mystical powers.”
The root of this phenomenon lay in the cultural differences in how East and West viewed faith.
Unlike Easterners, Westerners considered it terrifying for someone to have no beliefs.
Most Americans adhered to some form of religion—over 200 million of the country’s 300 million citizens were Christians, a staggering ratio.
Beyond that, there were plenty of unorthodox cults.
Even big names like Tom Cruise were members of infamous sects, and it didn’t affect their careers.
In this land, not belonging to a religion was the oddity.
[You have studied the Talisman Compendium and mastered the talisman-drawing techniques recorded within.]
[Talisman Compendium: 3%]
[Through continued study, you have gained a sliver of enlightenment in the art of talismans.]
A prompt flashed in Su Fan’s mind.
At the same time, the methods, brushstrokes, and intricacies of various talismans unfolded before his eyes.
“So that’s how it is.”
Rituals like purifying baths, fasting, meditation, chanting, and star-stepping were all just elaborate ways to attune oneself to a sliver of spiritual energy.
Only by sensing that energy could one successfully draw a talisman.
Talismans were considered a means of communicating with the divine. The practitioner would petition the gods, receive their bestowed power, and then seal it within the corresponding paper.
This step of sensing energy had stumped countless mediocrities, which was why genuine talismans were rare, and true masters even rarer.
But for Su Fan, this was no obstacle.
With his extraordinary comprehension, all he needed was a little more time to streamline the preparation process—lighting three sticks of incense before picking up the brush would suffice.
Su Fan became so engrossed in his studies that he stayed up all night.
By dawn, however, he finally felt confident enough to attempt drawing his first talisman and immediately set to work.
The antique shop was stocked with everything he needed—yellow paper, incense burners, all of it.
After lighting three sticks of incense, Su Fan steadied his breathing, attuning himself to the faint traces of spiritual energy.
Moments later, he felt an external force seep into his body.
Without hesitation, he dipped his brush in ink and began drawing—smooth, unbroken strokes, completed in a single breath.
Before long, the protective talisman was complete!
Setting down the brush, Su Fan exhaled deeply.
Succeeding on his first attempt was partly luck, he admitted.
But a good start was half the battle, and he was brimming with confidence for his future in talisman-crafting!
Yet while the dream was plump, reality was bony.
His next two attempts ended in failure—either the energy destabilized midway or the final stroke fell short, ruining the whole thing.
Su Fan let out a breath but refused to be discouraged. Calming his mind, he continued his work.
After some time, he had successfully produced four protective talismans.
As he set down the brush after the final one, a wave of exhaustion hit him, forcing him to take a break.
Glancing at the wall clock, he saw it was already 11 a.m.
Not a single customer had entered the shop the entire time he’d been drawing.
Su Fan wasn’t sure whether to be glad for the peace or lament his failing business.
Stretching, he realized he hadn’t eaten since last night. After tidying up, he headed to the kitchen.
As everyone knew, food in commercial districts was exorbitantly priced, and the restaurants near the antique shop were no exception. Out of necessity, Su Fan had honed his cooking skills.
Compared to the bastardized “Chinese food” served in American restaurants, his home-cooked meals were far more authentic.
