Most people live their lives just getting by—cutting corners where they can, compromising when they must.
Su Fan was no exception. But when it came to food, as a Chinese man, he refused to budge.
Back in college, he’d moved out of the dorms (where cooking was forbidden) and into an apartment.
Far from straining his relationship with his roommates, this decision actually brought them closer.
The reason? The day they all showed up at his place for a home-cooked meal.
But that’s beside the point.
After a satisfying lunch, Su Fan headed to a payphone and dialed a number.
“Hello, Detective.”
His greeting was casual, but the voice on the other end lit up with recognition.
“Su? Is that you?”
“It is.”
“Before I picked up, I was hoping it might be you… What a pleasant surprise.”
The detective sounded genuinely thrilled.
“How’s the new place treating you?”
“Thanks to you, just fine.”
After the Mary Shaw incident, the detective and Su Fan had formed something of a bond.
Whatever arrogance the detective had once felt toward this young Eastern exorcist had long since turned to respect.
As they chatted, the detective mentioned he was up for a promotion—and, coincidentally, the new posting was near the Carters’ neighborhood.
Su Fan cut to the chase.
“I called to ask a small favor.”
He gave a brief rundown of Esther and the Carter family situation—careful not to reveal the girl’s true nature, only hinting that something felt off.
“Su, are you saying that little girl’s a demon?” The detective’s voice dropped to a whisper.
In his mind, anything that caught Su Fan’s attention had to be on par with Mary Shaw.
“No conclusions yet. We need evidence first.”
“Aside from the girl, I also need info on the orphanage she came from—staff, residents, whatever details you can dig up.”
The detective agreed without hesitation.
“Consider it done. I’ll have answers by tonight.”
For someone with police resources, gathering intel was child’s play—a few questions here, some records there.
“Appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. Though, uh…” The detective hesitated.
“Conditions?” Su Fan raised an eyebrow.
“No, no! Nothing like that. It’s just…”
Since Ravens Fair, the detective had been plagued by nightmares.
Even though he’d watched Su Fan obliterate Mary Shaw, the memory of their close encounter in that motel still haunted his dreams.
Lately, it was getting bad enough to give him mild insomnia.
“Su, you think this could be some leftover… evil energy from Mary Shaw?”
Su Fan barely stifled a sigh.
“No, it’s not ‘evil energy.’ It’s just… well, trauma. She got in your head.”
So much for the fearless skeptic. When did this guy turn into such a scaredy-cat?
Then an idea struck him.
“Tell you what—I’ve got something that might help.”
“What kind of something?”
“Talismans.”
“Stop by later, I’ll give you a few for clarity and protection. Depends how many you want.”
Calming talismans were easy enough for Su Fan to whip up—more than enough to soothe the detective’s nerves.
“Seriously?”
“Of course. But I do run a business, so…”
“Say no more! I’d never expect freebies from you, Su.”
“Good. Come by whenever.”
Hanging up, Su Fan smirked.
Business was looking up.
Then the smirk froze.
Wait—he ran an antique shop. Since when had he pivoted to exorcism?
If Old Man Su saw his life’s work turned into some mystic talisman stall, he’d probably spin in his grave.
Su Fan shook his head vigorously.
This was just seed money.
Antiques thrived in stable times, gold in chaos. You needed capital to play the antique game.
Yeah. That’s all this was.
His eyes swept the shop’s wares.
Thanks to his lack of business acumen, most were bargain-bin junk…
A few quality pieces, but nowhere near enough…
Just as he pondered how to turn things around, movement at the door caught his attention.
Though his back was half-turned, Su Fan missed nothing.
The figure entered, footsteps deliberate, stopping directly before him.
“Welcome.”
His greeting was lazy, but when he looked down, his expression flattened.
The girl was cute enough—dolled up in frilly black lace, ribbons at her throat and wrists, a perfect Gothic Lolita.
But Su Fan felt nothing.
Because this wasn’t a child.
It was a deformed, sadistic demon wearing a little girl’s skin.
And with his spiritual sight, the illusion shattered—revealing something twisted and grotesque beneath.
Already? She’d tracked him to his shop this fast?
Su Fan’s eyes narrowed.
His fists clenched.
He hadn’t expected this psycho to have the guts.
He’d been planning to hunt her down, yet here she was—delivering herself to his doorstep.
Esther, meanwhile, fought a rising fury.
This man… she wanted him dead.
People like her—rotten to the core—hated nothing more than being seen for what they were. They hid in shadows, snakes in human skin.
But this snake, so adept at camouflage, felt utterly exposed under Su Fan’s gaze—as if he’d peeled her apart layer by layer.
It made her want to scream.
Then he’d opened his mouth to Kate, nearly ruining everything.
If not for her quick thinking—playing the victim, turning tears into weapons—she might’ve been hauled off for medical tests.
Therapists could be fooled. Medical records couldn’t.
This Chinese bastard knew something.
And she’d make sure he never spoke of it again.
