Double Chapter
Accompanied by a strange, wriggling sensation, eight sharp, hard spider legs slowly extended from Jiangxia's back, waving awkwardly in the night air.
He manipulated the puppet he was possessing, bringing the spider legs around so he could study them up close. Their cold, metallic gleam caught the moonlight as he tested one against the outer wall.
The moment the tip touched the wall, a strong suction force suddenly kicked in.
Almost at the same time, Jiangxia felt his killing intent draining away at double speed.
"…"
The spider form's wall-climbing ability seemed to be coin-operated?
Realizing this, Jiangxia fell silent for a moment.
Then, with a resigned sigh, he extended the other spider legs too, letting them probe the wall until they each found their grip.
…Well, I have to try it anyway — coin-operated or not.
It wasn't about curiosity. He just preferred to know exactly what his new puppet form could do, so he wouldn't fumble like an idiot when things got serious later.
…
In the dark night, a figure with eight slender spider legs slowly crept up the building's outer wall.
Gradually, the white-kimono-clad figure picked up speed, flitting across the wall like a drifting patch of moonlight — silent, leaving no trace behind.
Once Jiangxia felt he'd mastered the rhythm, he slowed down, stopping to hang right beside his own window.
He studied the iron-hook-like legs wedged into the wall and replayed the speed in his mind, nodding slightly to himself.
Now that he had aquatic, land, and air monster disguises all signed in, his escape options were pretty much unmatched.
At this speed, even Amuro Tooru's car might struggle to keep up — at least for a short distance. A spiritualist with a license to vanish.
Just as he was about to climb back into his room, the mermaid and Tengu trailing behind him suddenly rustled with excitement. The two ghosts whispered to each other, then pointed Jiangxia toward the opposite end of the inn.
Jiangxia followed their direction with a curious squint. After a moment's thought, he used the spider legs to scuttle sideways around the outer wall, stopping by a second-floor window across from his room.
…When I was testing the legs just now, my only thoughts were "The sea breeze is really strong tonight" and "Wow, I'm climbing so fast."
Now that he'd paused to focus, he picked up something else — a faint pulse of killing intent coming from inside that room.
And buried deeper under that killing intent was an even more tempting aura.
…Killing intent and shikigami?
Jiangxia lightly touched his sleeve, feeling a surge of good fortune welling up in his chest. Lately, his luck seemed suspiciously European Emperor-level.
…
The humanoid part of the spider puppet was incredibly light, moving like a weightless paper doll.
Jiangxia first sent his ghosts drifting in through the cracks to check things out.
Confirming the occupant was sound asleep, he braced his claw against the window latch and nudged it open with a faint click.
The old latch gave way without resistance. The window slid aside with barely a creak.
His eight spider legs retracted and extended again like silent hooks, and the next moment he was inside the room, perched low and light on the tatami floor.
It was a plain single room — a low tea table, a neatly folded futon, and an equally low bed tucked off to the left.
A brown-haired middle-aged man lay sprawled on the bed, teeth grinding like he wanted to bite someone to death in his sleep.
Jiangxia's gaze drifted right past him, settling instead on the tea table.
—Apparently, the man had planned to double-check his gear before packing up.
Now, two sets of fishing rods, a pair of insulated gloves, and a lighter were all laid out in a tidy row.
Jiangxia crouched, tapping one of the rods. They were carbon — light, stiff… and nicely conductive.
"…"
A tickle ran through his mental filing cabinet.
He'd seen something like this in a case before.
He didn't disturb the setup. Instead, he gestured for his ghosts to slip into the man's bag and fish out a business card holder.
A stack of business cards sat inside, the top ones all bearing the same name: "Kawai Kazuyuki, President of Kawai Construction."
Jiangxia nodded slightly.
—He remembered now. This case hadn't happened yet, but when it did, Kawai Kazuyuki was planning to use "fishing" as a fun little cover story for an electric shock "accident." A certain financial president who'd been bleeding him dry with usury would conveniently drop dead on a cruise ship.
Seems like on the way to Moonlight Island, there might be a bonus pot to pick up.
But to pull that off, he'd probably need an excuse not to take the Organization's boat.
Oh, right — one more thing to confirm.
…
Jiangxia waved his ghosts back, then turned his puppet to the room's door.
He eased it open, used a hook claw to gently restore the latch behind him, then padded down to the room next door.
Standard procedure: ghosts slipped in first to scout.
Once they reported back that the occupant was also dead asleep, Jiangxia repeated his trick — claws at the latch, soft push, slide open.
This time, his eyes froze for a beat.
—Another middle-aged man, snoring away. He had a broad chin, a hawk-like nose, and deep nasolabial folds carved into his face, even when he wasn't grinning.
Put together with the other pieces, that face clicked into place: Yamazaki Tsuneo.
President of Yamazaki Finance. A notorious loan shark — and Kawai Kazuyuki's target for the accidental "fishing trip."
Of course, for Jiangxia, Yamazaki Tsuneo's name didn't matter. His shady character didn't matter either. Status? Less than nothing.
What did matter was — this man's calves were completely wrapped in shikigami, packed so tight they looked like a ghostly beehive. Seven in total.
Seven.
"…"
Jiangxia stared in thoughtful silence for a good ten seconds.
Then he quietly backed out of the room, carefully restoring the door and window latches.
A moment later, a pale figure with eight slender spider legs scuttled down the wall, vanishing into the shadows — new pot, noted.
Avoiding the lights, Jiangxia crept all the way to the seaside.
Eight legs were indeed faster than two. On flat ground, without the strain of climbing, his killing intent wasn't draining nearly as quickly.
As he moved, he silently got used to this new "eight-legged stroll" while the salty sea breeze drifted in.
The smell of damp brine hit him as gentle waves lapped against the pier. Under the dark sky, he spotted two small yachts bobbing in the harbor.
One of them had "Kaihara-go" painted on its hull — a commercial boat. No lights, no crew. Completely deserted for now.
The other boat, though… there were shadows moving inside.
Jiangxia transferred his sight to his ghosts, letting them float over for a peek. Sure enough, two men in black suits were sitting there, pretending to be inconspicuous but looking suspiciously ordinary — the Organization's boat.
His gaze flicked between the two vessels, eyes glinting.
The Organization's boat was safer. Smoother.
But… if he just changed his ride tonight, he could snag eight shikigami in one go — basically an extra month's salary for doing nothing but taking the bus instead of his car. Who wouldn't be tempted?
After all, he wasn't some big cadre; he could never have too many ghosts.
According to the cheesy brochure stuffed in his inn room, the "Kaihara-go" was a merchant vessel that ran tours.
This season, not many sights were worth visiting — except the main island near Moonlight Island, where schools of fish gathered on the southeast side. Great for fishing. The Kaihara's recent trips all went that way.
The homeowner — the one with the fishing rod, insulated gloves, and enough killing intent to make your skin crawl — planned to use that fishing trip to fry a certain president with a suspicious number of ghosts stuck to him.
Jiangxia thought it through: if he skipped the Kaihara and stuck with the Organization's boat, he'd sail straight to Moonlight Island.
Sure, he could run over to the main island after the "accident" to mop things up.
But by then, the president would already be deep-fried. His seven old shikigami would float off, free of obsession, drifting into the sea where they'd probably dissolve into the saltwater like stray goldfish.
At best, he'd net one lonely ghost. What a pot to waste.
In short — he had to hitch a ride on the Kaihara.
And… it'd be best if Gin tagged along, too.
Once Jiangxia boarded the Kaihara, the electrocution mess would slow him down — whether he solved the case or just watched.
Unlike Tokyo, where you could slip away any time, this backwater prefecture probably had all kinds of procedures — and Jiangxia, a clueless tourist in Tottori, couldn't predict how annoying those would get.
If he and Gin split up tomorrow — Jiangxia stuck at the main island harvesting ghosts while Gin, already on Moonlight Island with the Organization's boat, got bored waiting — well, Gin might decide to just kill everyone on the island himself to save time.
Which would cost Jiangxia a neat handful of shikigami.
…Definitely not worth it.
So, after careful thought, he concluded: inviting his superior for a boat detour wasn't so bad. At most, he'd have to endure a bit of Gin's wrath.
And a superior's wrath was actually a good thing — the day Gin stopped yelling at him was probably the day he'd get shot in the back of the head and forcibly promoted to Gin's replacement. Better to get scolded forever.
A figure in a white kimono stood by the sea, eight spider legs flicking behind him like weird antennae, eyes fixed on the moonlit boats.
A moment later, he glanced at his new legs, nodded slightly, and made up his mind.
…
The next morning.
Jiangxia opened his eyes in the inn's futon, stretching like an innocent cat.
Knock knock.
He turned his head, rolled out of bed, and shuffled to the door.
Two black-suited men stood in the hallway, looking travel-worn and dusty.
Jiangxia peered left and right — the corridor was empty. He stepped aside to let his superior and his superior's tool person in.
After getting Jiangxia's update last night, Gin had dragged Vodka here overnight.
"Depart at six. Arrive after dark."
Inside, Gin motioned for Vodka to shut the door. He confirmed their Moonlight Island plan in that chilly, no-nonsense tone.
Then Gin's eyes narrowed at Jiangxia.
"The Spider Mansion case was solved by someone else."
Tottori didn't see many cases — anything juicy hit the papers fast. The Spider Mansion fiasco was already splashed across the front page: solved by some Kansai detective. Jiangxia, meanwhile, was credited with solving an old side case instead.
In Gin's mind, the Spider Mansion — all creepy legends and photo-worthy corpses — was the perfect chance for Ouzo to boost his rep. Gin hadn't scolded Jiangxia for holding out on the drug route before because he assumed Jiangxia was focused on solving this.
Now, seeing the report, he was… less than pleased.
He couldn't help the accusing note in his voice.
Jiangxia, however, answered blandly:
"If someone else knew this drug route, they'd notice the victims I keep running into all happen to be connected. They'd connect the dots."
He tilted his head, expression unchanging.
"And if the suspicious person happened to be inside the Organization — with access to our cleanup jobs — they'd figure out it was me. Didn't you say it's best to stay hidden, even from our own people?"
Gin fell silent. He slowly nodded.
It wasn't nonsense.
…Of course, given it was Ouzo, there was a 90% chance it was just an excuse.
Like last night — Gin had seen him leave the Spider Mansion with Rob in a truck. He'd assumed Ouzo was securing an alibi or beating up Rob for fun. Who knew he'd slip away to chase down another case instead?
Between "solving Spider Mansion for a promotion" and "chasing fresh corpses for new shikigami," Jiangxia always picked the latter.
No wonder he solved cases like he was reciting a script — he basically was.
Still, this time at least, Ouzo hadn't let his ghost-hunting hobby derail the important mission. And technically, his reason held water.
Gin weighed it all, then shelved the scolding for now.
When he'd first read the news, his temper had flared. But actually seeing Ouzo standing there — calm, baby-faced, spouting nonsense like it was holy scripture — made his anger deflate.
…People that competent always had weird flaws.
And "working alone" wasn't really a flaw. The Organization wanted self-driven monsters — not puppets needing to be pulled by the strings every second.
Suppressing his urge to smack Ouzo upside the head, Gin instead reached into his bag and pulled out a fancy square gift box.
He handed it over with no change of expression.
Jiangxia lifted the lid. Inside was a single box of snacks.
"…?"
He blinked at Gin — not daring to ask, Is this hush money or a trap?
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 46/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:4/10*