Rai stared, dumbfounded.
He had never imagined Madison's name would show up on a page.
Wasn't the Grimoire supposed to "contain" only things he defeated, like Heather?
So what was this?
He looked down at the very much alive Madison sleeping bare and warm in his arms. Breathing steady, skin temperature normal, clearly a living person. How could the Grimoire have "contained" her?
A thought struck him. He glanced at the Status field on the page.
Unlike Heather's [Status: Contained], Madison's read [Status: Special Containment].
There are different kinds of containment?
So "special" means… whatever this is?
He focused on the woman in his arms.
When he calmed himself and felt it out, something was different. Compared to before, his sense of Madison was sharper, almost tethered. Even with eyes closed, even if he were far away, he felt he could still perceive where she was and how she was. He couldn't control her life, mind, or will, but… the connection was there.
Another form of containment achieved all at once?
He wondered if this applied only to humans… or other beings too.
Elegant vampire countess. Tall, sinewy she-wolf. A devilish temptress. A ghostly beauty with her own strange charm..
Ahem.
Nope. Not going down that road.
He shot the Grimoire a glare. Of all the "features" to unlock, it chose this?
"Special Containment," huh? Tch…
Wait.
Maybe not so bad.
His eyes went back to the entry. Under Abilities for Madison, Telekinesis and Pyrokinesis glowed faintly as if he could spend containment points to awaken them himself.
Awaken abilities?
Rai's eyes lit up.
Heather had yielded him no learnable powers; that was a regret. But this filled the gap, and with abilities he knew well.
So with Special Containment, he could spend points to learn the contained person's abilities?
His mind briefly wandered to vampire ladies, werewolf women, demonesses…
Focus.
He opened the ability panel, excited.
The first awakened ability cost 50 containment points; the second would cost even more. He'd burned 20 earlier, "proving himself," leaving 60. So: one ability, choose wisely.
Telekinesis was the versatile, do-everything power. Pyrokinesis was straightforward and devastating to spirits.
He pictured Fiona's casual finger-snap and an inferno blooming; he pictured Madison's flames forcing a wraith to shriek. Against humans, he'd pick telekinesis in a heartbeat. But for the road ahead, spirits, curses, anomalies fire mattered more.
Decision made.
[–50 containment points]
Pages rustled without wind. Knowledge slid into place clean, complete, instinctive.
Rai opened his eyes and looked at the curtain. A spark flickered in his pupils, then the fabric whooshed into flame.
He willed, and the fire snuffed out, leaving a scorched patch.
"Not bad. Where my eyes land, fire answers. I'm not at Fiona's 'light every candle in the hall' precision, but in a fight? Plenty."
He opened his palm. A tight, bright tongue of fire rose, then weakened, guttered… and went out.
He rubbed his brow. He could feel his spirit energy drained.
"So power scales with spirit. The higher it is, the stronger and longer the flame."
He rested until his spirit energy refilled, then pushed the last 10 points into it. His sheet updated:
[ID: 000]
[Name: Rai]
[Type: Human]
[Physique: 1.4]
[Spirit: 0.3]
[Abilities: Pyrokinesis]
[Containment Points: 0]
Compared to day one, even without a gun, he could handle most people just fine, and that was from a single successful containment.
He summoned flame again; it burned a touch hotter than before. Small, but the direction was right. For abilities, attunement mattered. And physique still couldn't be neglected; he wasn't a ghost. One bullet would put him down; heck, it would put Madison down, too. That was why witches and other gifted types stayed low-profile in the modern world.
Spirits, though those didn't care about bullets.
He let the flame die. As he dismissed the Grimoire, Madison stirred.
Like a golden-haired lamia, she curled around him and, without a shred of shyness, murmured, "Baby, you were amazing."
Any man would be happy to hear that from a stunner. Rai was no exception.
No more thinking about ghosts right now. This was a relaxation window.
He slid an arm around her waist, tempted. "There's even better.' Want to test it?"
"Obviously."
Rested and back to full bravado, Madison nodded eagerly.
Rai took a steadying breath.
American life agreed with him.
—
They didn't rush out of town after finishing Heather. With the owners long gone, the borrowed house became their… battlefield for the day.
Living room, bedroom, bath, balcony, even the lawn, "signs of battle" everywhere.
Consider it a small thank you for letting them solve your haunting. The owners wouldn't blame them, surely.
-
The next day.
Feeling refreshed, Rai and Madison returned to Heather's old house.
They weren't there to pay respects, but to use her husband's smelting rig to melt down the gold arm.
With Heather contained, the gold arm had become harmless.
No one wanted to keep something that valuable lying around; selling it made more sense.
Considering the locals were terrified of the gold arm and no one dared buy it, Rai decided to melt it back into ingots first and then sell it.
Half an hour later.
After a round of work, the gold arm was gone.
In its place were three one-kilogram gold bars.
Unlike in Rai's previous life, where war and global turmoil had pushed the price of gold up to sixty or seventy dollars per gram, more than double ten years prior in this era, the price still hovered around forty dollars per gram. By that math, the arm was worth a bit over a hundred and twenty thousand.
No small sum. No wonder Heather's husband had bankrupted himself to make it, then later regretted it and dug it back up.
No wonder, too, that outsiders who heard the rumour risked everything to steal it.
Greed destroyed them.
Even the last one who fled all the way to New Orleans and dumped the arm on Rai couldn't escape the curse; he met a miserable end.
In the end, Rai and Madison reaped the benefit.
With three gold bars in hand, they drove to a jeweller in the county seat.
They didn't have legal paperwork proving the source of the gold, but buyers everywhere are happy to buy it.
And Alpena County's rules were not strict enough.
The price was shaved down a bit, but Rai still sold the bars smoothly.
Split with Madison, he pocketed about sixty thousand dollars.
For American youths who are usually in the red, that is a fortune.
Rai was pleased.
This trip not only completed his objective and boosted his abilities, but it also brought in a fat bonus and, well, other "needs" were met too.
A total win.
For a good while, he wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of spending a girl's money.
"Rai, since we're out already, let's not rush home. How about a road trip?" Madison, equally flush with cash, looked at him, eyes bright.
"A road trip?" Rai blinked.
"Yeah. Just you and me." Madison slid close and kissed the corner of his mouth.
She'd finally escaped the dull witch academy and found a man who hit all her buttons; she wanted to unwind.
A road trip was one of the favourite pastimes of American youth: take a car with a good friend, roll along endless highways, soak in vast landscapes, and taste the different cultures and customs from state to state.
It's a culture of its own.
And from it spin all the tales set on highways, in insular small towns, or in empty no-man's-lands, slashers, cults, and monsters.
Hollywood makes those all the time.
Usually, it's a bunch of dumb kids who hear a scary rumour, ignore locals' warnings, camp at the site, get attacked, and go meet their maker.
Madison had even starred in one.
As for how he knew: during one of yesterday's "halftime breaks," they found a stack of discs in the house, including one of Madison's.
Naturally, Rai watched it.
"Then let's go."
Rai thought for a moment and nodded.
With the blade over his head set aside for now, he wanted to relax, too.
He couldn't spend every waking moment thinking about fighting anomalies.
He didn't want to drop dead one day, look back, and realise his isekai life had no fun in it.
Fast car, beautiful woman, open country.
Put together, that makes memories worth keeping.
It would also help him settle in here.
Of course, if they ran into a real cult with powers or a legendary creature along the way, even better.
Objectives like that, Rai could never have too many.
"But before that, you need to buy a car," Madison reminded him.
"Of course," Rai nodded.
In a vast country with sparse public transit and cheap gas, you can't get anywhere without a car.
Almost every household has one.
Rai had planned to buy one anyway, since he'd be travelling a lot.
And now he was loaded.
They drove to the rental agency that also sold cars and, after some hard bargaining with the owner, Rai bought a well-equipped Chevrolet for twenty thousand dollars.
With the new car, they swung back to the county seat for supplies, then, in high spirits, officially hit the road.
Their route: south on US-75 to Detroit, west on I-94 to Chicago, then a series of turns via I-55 and US-12, ending in New Orleans.
Not as famous as Route 66 from Chicago to Santa Monica and Los Angeles, maybe.
But still a fine trip.
Especially for a pair travelling alone.
…
Three days later.
A dust-coated Chevy rolled back into New Orleans.
Inside sat Rai and Madison, worn out after all the clamour.
Nothing unexpected happened on the way.
They did sample a bit of local flavour passing through Chicago.
And at a gas station, a group of equally itinerant, dumb youths recognised Madison and tried to drive off her "boyfriend." Thanks to Physique 1.4, Rai gave them a thorough beating. After that, nothing.
No side gigs like he'd imagined.
The only exception was plenty of "under the stars, on the grass" consumption.
So, while the academy searched for its own leads, they meandered, pausing here and there, leaving the earth a string of vivid memories. Bodies and minds rinsed by nature, appetites sated, the two finally pressed the pedal and returned to New Orleans.
Seeing the sign for "Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies," Rai tapped the horn.
As always, the gates opened on their own.
New Orleans' largest gathering place for the supernatural came into view once more.
"Madison, there's something I need to tell you."
With the gate open, Rai didn't drive in yet. He turned, looking a little serious.
Busy touching up her makeup, Madison didn't look up. "What is it? You want me not to tell your black-widow girlfriend we slept together? Relax. It won't be long before she willingly joins in."
"That's good… wait."
Catching himself before getting dragged off topic, Rai put the daydream away and said, serious again, "That's not it. After we go back, don't tell anyone you awakened a new ability. Especially not Fiona."
Madison finally set the mirror down and looked up, puzzled. "Why?"
She had been planning to show off in front of the other witches.
Rai went straight to it. "Every generation of the Salem line births one Supreme. The old fades, the new rises. That handoff isn't peaceful. The young, emerging Supreme accelerates the drain on the current Supreme's power until the elder dies.
"Think about it: the previous Supreme watching her life force bleed away day by day. If she's sensible, maybe she accepts it. But if she clings to the world and fears death?
"What will she think about the source of her decline? What will she do?"
Madison's face sank.
Raised in Hollywood, where a blank page goes in and comes out black, she had recognised the world's cold realities earlier than most. Putting herself in those shoes, she said, "If I were the Supreme, I'd eliminate the next-gen successor and stop my own decline."
"Exactly," Rai said. "You can read Fiona's character from how her own daughter, Cordelia, treats her. So don't expose your talent. If you must, tell people about your heart-murmur symptoms."
They knew each other's secrets now. Rai didn't want Madison ending up like the original timeline, so Fiona decides she's the next Supreme and slits her throat.
Madison clearly took it in. She nodded, then frowned. "What does that have to do with a heart murmur?"
Rai wasn't surprised she knew he knew; they hadn't kept things from each other these days, and she'd occasionally used equipment to check her heartbeat. He considered, then said, "The one who becomes Supreme is always in perfect health. No exceptions."
Madison froze.
Several seconds later, she gritted her teeth. "Fuck."
For someone aiming at the Supreme's seat, that was a thunderbolt.
"Is that really true? How do you know all this?" she pressed.
"I poked around the academy library," Rai said lightly. "I'm into witch history."
Madison knew he wouldn't lie to her for nothing, and fell silent.
"Open your view a little," Rai went on. "The world isn't just the Salem line. Not becoming the Supreme doesn't mean you can't be strong. These last days, your witch power's been skyrocketing."
He looked at her. With his spirit sense, he could feel Madison's witch power racing upward over the past three days. The adventure had clearly accelerated the awakening and development of her bloodline.
He couldn't even be jealous; he didn't have a sorcerer's blood.
"Witches and wraiths are real. Who knows what other legendary things are out there. Maybe there's a way to treat a physiological heart murmur. Or power outside witchcraft that's stronger," he said.
"From your lips to God's ears. If it happens, you're taking me along," Madison said, mood steadying. "And… thanks for the warning."
"Of course."
Rai drove through the gates.
Waiting out front were Cordelia, Zoe, Queenie, Nan, and a plump middle-aged woman in a maid's outfit.
"Rai, you're okay!" Zoe ran in and hugged him tight the moment he got out.
Getting out on the other side, Madison, who had just tucked away the heaviness in her expression, cut in after a glance at Zoe clinging to Rai and another at the unfamiliar maid. Her eyes lit up. "It's only been a few days, and there's a new maid? Rai, looks like you're getting fired."
"In that case, I'd be so tragic," Rai laughed, patting Zoe's back and easing her down. He looked at Cordelia. "Headmistress, you're not really letting me go, are you?"
"Of course not. Delphine is an… accident," Cordelia said with a smile. "There's always a place for you here, Rai."
"Good to hear."
Rai "sighed in relief" and let his gaze sweep past the gloomy-faced Delphine. The plump woman was the former mistress of the LaLaurie House, cursed by the voodoo queen and kept alive for over two hundred years.
Frankly, if immortality worked like that can't be killed, won't die, he'd take a dozen.
"Come in. There's a proper welcome-back dinner waiting. And tell everyone how you took care of the spirit," Cordelia said.
Rai and Madison nodded and went in with the others, then launched into a vivid, wildly embellished retelling of their thrilling bout with a vengeful ghost.
…
Thousands of miles away.
While Rai was bragging to a house full of shut-in witches in Green Township, Alpena County.
Heather was contained, and there were no more footsteps or howls at night. But three days were short. Even with doubts in their hearts, the few who'd stayed in town kept up their fear and vigilance. The place was as desolate as ever.
Into that quiet rolled three black SUVs, heading straight for the cemetery where Heather had been buried.
Doors opened.
Led by two men in black suits, a ten-person team in black combat gear armed to the teeth, no insignia of any agency, disembarked and unloaded precise, high-tech instruments.
Five minutes later, a trooper at a console spoke. "No anomalous entity detected."
The suit in charge made a small sound, then glanced at his partner.
The other understood. He opened a silver case with multiple safeties, took out an ancient compass, poured a 100-millilitre vial of blood into it, and asked, "Where is Heather Neimark?"
The needle began to spin madly.
One minute. Two.
As a hair-raising scream seemed to seep up from within the dial, he hurriedly put it back in the case and sealed it tight. The screaming cut off. He exhaled. "Looks like Heather Neimark still exists, but she's left this area."
The lead suit nodded. "Ordinary wraiths don't leave their old haunts. Clearly, someone took it."
"Do we need to find them?"
"No. Whatever their goal, they'll end up using it or being used by it. Saves us the trouble."
"But…"
"No buts. What are you, one of those saints?"
"…No."
"Good. Let it play outside for a while. No need to dirty our hands."