As An Antique Shop Owner, It's Only Reasonable That I Know A Bit Of Magic - Chapter 6

In an instant, the detective’s drowsiness vanished—replaced by sheer terror.

He bolted upright, only to realize that his movement hadn’t made a single sound. No creak from the bedframe, no rustle of sheets. The room was deathly silent, save for the frantic pounding of his own heartbeat and his ragged breathing.

The only light came from outside—a crimson glow seeping through the window. It was the neon sign of the motel, the same one he’d scoffed at earlier for looking cheap and rundown. But now, that very sign’s light filled him with dread.

The translucent curtains fluttered in the wind, and in the red haze, a ghastly figure emerged—a pale-faced old woman with blood dripping from her lips, grinning with grotesque malice.

“Detective…”

A woman’s voice—one he’d never heard before—sent chills down his spine.

“It’s… Mary Shaw!”

Jamie had told him everything about the legend of Mary Shaw, along with his own research. At the time, the detective had brushed it off as nonsense. But now, every word came rushing back, drenching his back in cold sweat.

Panicked, he glanced at Jamie, who was still sound asleep beside him. He wanted to scream for help—but fear of having his tongue ripped out kept him silent. In mere seconds, his forehead was slick with sweat.

“Just stay quiet… stay quiet…”

He repeated the mantra in his head—but as the ghostly face drew nearer, his resolve shattered.

Just as he was about to scream, the door burst open with a crash!

A figure hurled a pillow straight into his face, muffling any sound.

And with that figure’s arrival, sound finally returned to the room.

Jamie jolted awake. Before he could even rub his eyes, he felt a gust of wind whip past his face.

The detective, however, saw everything clearly.

The figure moved like a predator—fast, precise—closing the distance between himself and Mary Shaw in the blink of an eye.

Even the vengeful spirit seemed caught off guard.

Seizing the moment, the stranger stomped the ground, channeling force from his legs into a devastating elbow strike—right into the ghost’s chest!

A deafening crack echoed through the room, vibrating in their eardrums.

“AAAAHHH!!!”

A shrill, furious scream tore through the air as Mary Shaw was sent flying backward, slamming into the wall with enough force to shake the entire room.

BOOM!

The impact was like thunder, leaving a massive crater in the concrete.

Jamie fumbled for the bedside lamp, flooding the room with dim light.

Now, they could finally see their savior.

“Su!”

Jamie’s voice trembled with relief.

The detective clutched his chest, drenched in sweat, still struggling to process what had just happened.

Across from them, the wall was cracked and crumbling—but instead of an old woman’s body, only the shattered remains of a ventriloquist dummy lay scattered on the floor.

One glass eye rolled to the foot of the bed, staring up at Jamie.

Even though he knew it was just a dummy’s eye, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Mary Shaw was still watching him.

“What the hell was that thing?” the detective muttered, his usual bravado gone.

“That was Mary Shaw,” Jamie said, then turned to Su Fan uncertainly. “Did we… defeat her?”

He had seen it with his own eyes—Su Fan had struck the ghost with enough force to make her scream in pain. Clearly, the young man had some power over her.

Going to that antique shop was the right choice, Jamie thought, relieved.

But Su Fan didn’t answer immediately.

Because at that moment, a familiar voice echoed in his mind:

[“True understanding comes from experience—and battle has sharpened your skills immensely!”]

[You channeled Qi to strike a spirit, dealing damage and refining your control. Proficiency +1]

[You executed a Baji Fist technique, gaining deeper insight into its principles. Baji Fist has reached Minor Mastery!]

When Su Fan attacked, he had infused his strike with Qi—energy he’d cultivated through studying the Huangting Scripture. It was like enchanting his body with spiritual force.

That was why Mary Shaw had shrieked in agony.

But the fight wasn’t over yet.

“It’s not that simple,” Su Fan said, turning toward the door.

Jamie hurried after him.

The detective hesitated, torn between following and staying behind.

Soon, Jamie found himself trailing Su Fan outside.

“Su, where did you get this car—?”

“Get in.”

Su Fan didn’t give him time to ask questions. The engine roared to life.

“Walker? Marion? What are you two doing here?!”

Jamie froze as he spotted the elderly couple in the backseat.

“It’s been a while, Jamie,” Old Man Walker said, though he wasn’t sure how to explain their presence.

But Su Fan didn’t give them time to chat. He shifted gears, released the clutch, and sped off.

“Good thing I learned to drive stick,” Su Fan mused.

Back in his past life, automatic transmissions had already taken over, and most people only needed a basic license. But after seeing a dog pass the driving test online, he’d stubbornly insisted on learning manual.

“Where are we going?” Jamie finally asked.

“Your house.”

“My house? Why?”

Old Man Walker sighed and answered for Su Fan.

“This town used to be prosperous—it even had a theater on the lake. Mary Shaw was one of its performers.”

“One day, during a show, a child in the audience exposed a flaw in her act. Though she recovered with her skill, the humiliation festered into hatred.”

“After that night, the child… disappeared.”

Walker’s eyes darkened with memory.

“I was there, Jamie. You didn’t see the way Mary Shaw looked at that child when she asked, ‘Tell me… which one of us is the puppet?’ It was chilling.”

“The child’s family accused her of murder. The townspeople stormed her home, forced her to scream, and then… cut out her tongue.”

“But Mary Shaw had already prepared for her death. She left two final requests: First, to turn her corpse into a puppet. Second, to bury her alongside every doll she’d ever made.”

Puppets.

Jamie’s mind flashed to the mysterious package he’d received—Billy, the dummy now reduced to splinters by Su Fan’s fists.

“After Mary Shaw’s death, people began dying one by one—all in the same way. Their jaws torn open, tongues ripped out, turned into ventriloquist dummies… posed like family portraits.”

“The town was trapped in her curse. No one could escape.”

“That’s the truth behind the nursery rhyme.”

Jamie’s breath hitched. “But… what does this have to do with my house?”

Su Fan finally spoke again. “The child who disappeared? His last name was Ashen. He was your ancestor.”

“And your family led the mob that cut out Mary Shaw’s tongue. You really think she’d let any of you live?”

Jamie felt as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“There’s something else,” Su Fan continued. “Every family she’s targeted has been wiped out—systematically, generation by generation.”

“She’s coming for you and your wife now. You know what that means.”