As An Antique Shop Owner, It's Only Reasonable That I Know A Bit Of Magic - Chapter 5

After splitting up from the group, Su Fan arrived at a funeral home.

“Walker Funeral Home. This is the place.”

He glanced at the stone plaque by the entrance. Unlike the overgrown, neglected storefronts around town, this one was impeccably maintained, with fresh flowers planted nearby.

In this desolate little town, where most buildings were crumbling, a place this well-kept stood out.

But finding it hadn’t been easy.

The fog that blanketed the town had thickened as the midday sun faded.

Had Su Fan been an ordinary outsider, he might’ve spent hours wandering in circles.

He rang the doorbell, and soon, an elderly man with graying hair answered.

The old man led him to a seat in the courtyard.

“Are you here to arrange a funeral?”

Old Walker’s voice carried a note of confusion.

After living in this town for decades, he’d never seen a dark-haired, dark-eyed Asian face before.

Clearly, this man was an outsider.

But what could possibly draw anyone to Ravens Fair now?

“No.”

“I’m here on behalf of Jamie Ashen. I need to ask you about something related to this town.”

Su Fan got straight to the point.

“A few days ago, Jamie’s wife, Lisa, was murdered in their apartment.”

“Oh, that’s… terrible…”

Before Old Walker could finish expressing his sympathy, Su Fan continued.

“The way she died was unusual. Her entire lower jaw was torn apart, and her tongue was ripped out.”

“Before it happened, Jamie received a ventriloquist dummy.”

“He believes it’s connected to an old legend in Ravens Fair. That’s why he sent me to talk to you.”

Su Fan’s tone remained calm, but Old Walker’s face grew paler with each word.

“We don’t know anything about that…”

“There aren’t many elders left in this town. You’re the only funeral director here—you must know some of its secrets.”

Su Fan saw right through the lie.

“That’s why I came to you.”

“About Mary Shaw—”

The moment the name left Su Fan’s lips, Old Walker’s expression twisted in terror!

He immediately motioned for Su Fan to stop, his eyes darting around fearfully.

In this town, Mary Shaw was an unspeakable nightmare—a name never uttered aloud, only referred to as “her.”

But the young man in front of him seemed oblivious to the danger, continuing without hesitation.

“I need you to tell me everything—the origin of the nursery rhyme, what she did, all of it.”

Old Walker finally understood Su Fan’s purpose.

“Young man, you’re not from here. Why involve yourself in this? Aren’t you afraid…?”

His voice trembled, his words fragmented.

“Afraid that a ventriloquist dummy will suddenly appear in my home, and Mary Shaw will come for me?”

“If I were afraid, I wouldn’t be here.”

Su Fan’s confidence only made Old Walker shake his head.

“I specialize in dealing with things like this.”

“I came to break the curse hanging over this town.”

Even that declaration didn’t loosen the old man’s tongue.

The town had a church—its people had surely begged priests and pastors for help before.

Yet in the end, they’d either fled or died.

Su Fan knew he had to change tactics.

“You know as well as I do that Mary Shaw kills indiscriminately.”

“She won’t stop until everyone connected to this is dead.”

“Jamie is her target. I spoke to him—now she’s marked me too.”

“And you? You’ll handle Lisa’s funeral. Once you interact with Jamie, do you really think Mary Shaw will spare you?”

Su Fan’s voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

“If you don’t fight back, Mary Shaw will be at your doorstep in days.”

“It doesn’t matter where you hide—you’ll still end up with your tongue ripped out.”

Old Walker’s face drained of color.

“So, are you going to gamble on survival… or just wait to die?”

Su Fan fell silent, letting the words sink in.

After a long pause, just as Old Walker opened his mouth to respond—

“Have you seen Mary Shaw?”

A frail old woman stepped forward, clutching a black raven in her arms. Her milky eyes fixed on Su Fan.

“Were you there when Lisa was killed?”

……

“This ridiculous charade has gone on long enough.”

The detective was in a foul mood.

This town was suffocating. Even after just one day, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

To keep Jamie from fleeing, he’d followed him home—meeting his stroke-ridden father and his young, beautiful stepmother along the way.

He’d learned about Jamie’s family history:

How his father was a violent drunk who’d driven Jamie’s mother to her death and terrorized his second wife into running away…

How Mary Shaw had once lived among them…

But none of that interested him.

All the detective cared about was finding concrete evidence to nail Jamie as the killer.

Legal technicalities? Those could be worked out later.

“Look, I know you think I’m the murderer, but doesn’t any of this seem strange to you?”

Jamie tried again to convince him.

“Things aren’t as simple as my father and Ella claim. Mary Shaw is real—and she has something far darker planned.”

“Besides, even if you drag me back now, without solid evidence, it’ll just be a waste of time.”

The detective scowled but didn’t argue.

The O.J. Simpson case had taught every American cop and prosecutor a hard lesson.

He wasn’t about to waste his effort only to walk away empty-handed.

“Where’s that other kid?”

“Su… he still hasn’t come back.”

A thread of unease wound through Jamie’s chest.

Su Fan had promised to meet them, but there’d been no word from him.

Was he even still alive?

His gaze drifted to the ventriloquist dummy sitting in the corner of the room.

Alone, he had no idea how to deal with the thing.

But leaving it unattended felt even more dangerous.

This was the only compromise he could think of.

“Hmph. Probably fled to avoid arrest.”

The detective sneered.

Who still believed in ghosts in this day and age?

Tomorrow, he’d bring handcuffs and his service weapon—drag that fraud back in chains.

Jamie didn’t bother responding, rolling over to face the wall.

What else could he say? If the detective refused to believe him, so be it.

Seeing he’d get no reaction, the detective settled in for the night.

Wary of Jamie trying to escape, he kept one ear tuned to the other bed.

Strangely, the room was dead silent—no rustling, no shifting, not even the sound of breathing.

Jamie might as well have been a corpse.

Just as the detective began to drift off, his drowsy eyes caught something impossible.

The ventriloquist dummy on the couch—with no one touching it—slowly turned its head toward him.