As An Antique Shop Owner, It's Only Reasonable That I Know A Bit Of Magic - Chapter 21

At the end of the documents were the words Su Fan had written:

Soul Possession.

When someone undergoes a drastic change in personality, most onlookers assume they’ve suffered some great trauma.

In this age of science, few would consider the possibility of a soul taking over another’s body.

But this was a world where horror movies had bled into reality—one where both science and the supernatural had to be taken seriously.

A nun, raised in Catholicism, trained for six years in theology and spiritual discipline at a seminary, and even passing her final evaluations—only to suddenly abandon her faith without warning.

Then, she ends up with a white lawyer she had practically no connection to.

On top of that, she suddenly gains remarkable skills and cunning after the fact.

Su Fan could think of no other explanation: her soul had been replaced.

This also made sense of the mansion’s transfer.

The original owner had lured caretakers under the pretense of hiring help, only to seize their bodies through some unknown method.

After the possession, the elderly body was disposed of, and the wealth and property were passed on via a will—allowing the “reborn” owner to continue enjoying them.

On the surface, it looked like a heartwarming tale of kindness rewarded. In truth, it was just the homeowner transferring their own assets from one hand to another after stealing someone else’s body.

But one detail didn’t add up.

The essence of possession is a powerful soul either expelling or consuming the original soul of the body.

Yet in Western mythology, even demons can only possess a person—they can’t make a soul vanish outright, since all souls are destined for Heaven or Hell after death.

Given the perpetrator’s methods, they didn’t seem particularly skilled.

If even demons couldn’t erase a soul, these people certainly couldn’t.

Su Fan pondered this, then added a few more words after “Soul Possession”:

Soul Transference.

With that written down, his earlier suspicions were confirmed.

So it’s The Skeleton Key.

A horror film built on slow-burning dread, layer upon layer of twists, and a chilling ending where evil triumphs.

But the methods used by the couple behind it all weren’t nearly as absolute as true possession.

The voodoo they practiced—something Su Fan had researched in his past life—was a patchwork of Christianity, Catholicism, African folk traditions, and herbal mysticism. A complete mishmash of low-tier dark magic.

Its effects were limited, requiring both the caster and the victim to genuinely believe in its power to work. It had too many restrictions and weak results.

That was why their hunting grounds were confined to a small corner of Louisiana.

But now, these two were acting boldly, even crossing state lines into California.

Had their skills grown stronger, fueling their ambition and daring?

Su Fan tapped his pen lightly against the paper.

If that were the case, he couldn’t rely on the movie’s original logic to judge their abilities.

Fortunately, he’d given the detective two protective talismans.

That should be enough to keep him safe and ensure his escape.

This time, it’s a mix of two horror movie plots.

No wonder the warning told me to be extra careful.

In this world, even the slightest carelessness could be fatal.

Su Fan rubbed his temples and stood up to rest.

The detective’s investigation would take time, and Esther—having just entered the Coleman household—wouldn’t reveal her true nature so soon.

For now, he could focus on reading and crafting more talismans.

His plan was sound, but trouble came knocking sooner than expected.

Two days later, two uninvited guests entered the quiet antique shop.

“Hello, LAPD.”

The patrol officers flashed their badges.

Su Fan looked up, calmly studying them.

Average-built white men, paired up and armed—definitely the real deal.

“Are you Su Fan?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll need to come with us for questioning. Cooperate, please.”

The older cop spoke with clear hostility.

“What’s the reason?”

“A report was filed claiming you molested a child,” the younger one—likely a rookie—explained, less aggressive than his partner.

Su Fan narrowed his eyes.

Who else could pull such a stunt but that goblin of a man?

He was only curious—was it Kate or John who had called the police?

“Are you deaf? Get up now!”

When Su Fan didn’t immediately rise, the older cop raised his voice sharply.

This Asian was unusually stubborn. Normally, people like him were the easiest to push around—unlike the entitled whites or explosive blacks, Asians were docile and compliant.

It was only with them that he could indulge in that sense of unquestioned authority.

Su Fan smirked inwardly.

Bullying spineless cowards has really given this guy a superiority complex.

Many Asian immigrants of this era still clung to naive illusions about this country—not just that the moon was rounder abroad, but that even the air was sweeter.

It was exactly this groveling attitude that earned their disrespect.

Su Fan had no intention of humoring unreasonable demands.

“Where’s the evidence?”

“Evidence isn’t your concern! Get up now, or we’ll take you in by force!”

The repeated defiance only stoked the cop’s anger.

“He’s resisting arrest. Rookie, cuff him!”

The younger officer hesitated.

They were only here for questioning—no arrest warrant had been issued.

Forcing the issue violated protocol, but under his senior’s order, he faltered.

“False arrest and unlawful detention lead to lawsuits and disciplinary action,” Su Fan said dryly.

“Smart of you to make the rookie do your dirty work.”

“Don’t listen to him! He’s bluffing!”

“Oh? Then why don’t you try?”

Seeing the older cop bark orders but refuse to move, the rookie snapped out of it and took a step back.

“Sorry, sir. Skipped breakfast—low blood sugar.”

Furious, the veteran cop snarled, “Fine! I’ll do it myself! Hands out!”

As the cop moved to escalate things, Su Fan finally stood.

The older officer grabbed him, trying to twist his arms behind his back for the cuffs—but no matter how hard he strained, the seemingly slender arms didn’t budge an inch.

They might as well have been steel bars.

Face reddening, the cop heaved with exertion, nearly bursting a vein. His hand shot toward his stun gun—

Then Su Fan turned his head slightly, his dark eyes radiating a coldness that froze the cop in place.