As An Antique Shop Owner, It's Only Reasonable That I Know A Bit Of Magic - Chapter 9

Seeing the detective again surprised Su Fan.

Given the man’s earlier reactions, he wasn’t exactly the fearless type.

Yet after witnessing Mary Shaw’s ghastly face and experiencing the supernatural firsthand, he’d still come after them.

Was this reckless stupidity? Or commendable dedication to the job?

The detective strode toward Su Fan.

“Still here to arrest someone?”

Su Fan’s blunt question made the man flinch.

The confidence he’d had earlier had completely evaporated.

How was anyone supposed to anticipate a ghost murderer?

“Ahem… I’m here for the real killer. You and Jamie aren’t involved.”

“I… apologize for the misunderstanding earlier.”

Since the detective was being civil, Su Fan gave a curt nod, accepting the apology.

“You’re here to help?”

“Hmm, yeah. But… I’m not sure if this will even work.”

It suddenly hit the detective—he wasn’t dealing with a criminal.

He was dealing with a ghost.

Would bullets even do anything?

The cold wind sobered him up fast.

“Oh, it’ll work. Very well.”

To his surprise, Su Fan sounded confident.

During his investigation, Su Fan had analyzed the connection between Mary Shaw and her puppets.

If she could truly transfer her soul freely between them, why not make thousands? Spread them across the globe as fail-safes?

The answer was simple:

There was a limit.

Mary Shaw could only maintain around a hundred puppets at once.

And those puppets could be physically destroyed.

So why waste time punching when you could shoot?

As the saying went:

Outside seven paces, the gun is fast. Inside seven paces, the gun is fast and accurate.

“You only brought one?”

“The local precinct doesn’t have much firepower. This was hard enough to get. You get me, Su?”

“Ammo?”

“Oh, I loaded up on that.”

The detective patted his bulging pockets.

Su Fan nodded, satisfied.

Typical American cops—mediocre at investigations, but experts at unloading bullets into threats.

Beautiful.

“Where’s Mary Shaw?”

“You missed her. I just beat the hell out of her. She ran back to her nest.”

“But we’re about to go finish the job.”

Just then, Jamie returned, lugging a gas can.

With the team assembled, they piled into the detective’s car without another word.

Old Man Walker and Marion watched them go—one armed with a shotgun, one carrying gasoline, and the guy who’d kicked a door off its hinges.

They looked less like ghost hunters and more like a highly efficient hit squad.

But this time, Walker didn’t follow.

One glimpse of Mary Shaw’s puppet had been enough.

He and his wife would wait at home for news.

Meanwhile, Su Fan’s group sped toward the Lakeside Theater.

The abandoned site was overgrown, forcing them to continue on foot.

Thick fog rolled in, punctuated by eerie laughter.

Jamie and the detective tensed, their fear growing with every step.

Then Su Fan’s voice cut through the tension:

“What are you scared of?”

“She knows why we’re here.”

“If she could kill us easily, why bother with cheap scares?”

His words hit home.

Mary Shaw was trying to scare them off—because she was the one afraid.

Bolstered, they followed Su Fan onto a boat and crossed to the theater.

Inside, the air reeked of mildew and rotting wood.

Su Fan led them straight backstage, where a flashlight revealed dozens of half-finished puppets—limbs and heads scattered like a nightmare workshop.

Among them hung the corpse of a boy, strung up by puppet strings.

“That’s your ancestor,” Su Fan said flatly.

“The one who vanished seventy years ago.”

“The origin of all this.”

“When you heard your family led the mob that cut out Mary Shaw’s tongue, did you think you were paying for their sins?”

Jamie nodded numbly.

Su Fan scoffed.

“But your ancestor was turned into a puppet.”

“Mary Shaw’s death? She brought it on herself.”

The temperature dropped sharply.

Jamie and the detective held their breath.

Su Fan didn’t care. He kept going.

“I read her notes. That old hag was obsessed with making the ‘perfect puppet’—and her ‘research’ proved she needed human subjects.”

“Your family just gave her an excuse.”

“Even without them, kids in this town would’ve started disappearing.”

“And if some nobody’s child vanished? Cops would’ve shrugged and closed the case.”

“She’d have gotten away with it.”

As he spoke, a red-draped display case nearby began to shake.

“A murderer, punished for her crimes, dares to come back as a ‘vengeful spirit’?”

“Call it a ‘curse’? Pathetic.”

“You’re just a coward, you shriveled old—”

SCREEEECH!!!

A shriek of pure hatred tore through the air as the red cloth flew off, revealing rows of puppets—all staring at Su Fan, mouths gaping in unison.

“SU FAN!!!”

The detective and Jamie clapped hands over their ears.

Su Fan just smirked.

“Shut the hell up, bitch.”