Fang Zuo looked Minami Kyouko up and down.
Glancing down, Minami Kyouko blushed.
She instinctively squeezed her legs together unnaturally, trying to hide the sweat stains.
"Detective Fujino, uphold the police conduct manual. If you continue staring, I'll report you to your superiors."
Fang Zuo shot her a glance but ignored her.
Inside the run-down living room.
Items were neatly arranged, showing no signs of struggle.
Staring at the naked female corpse, Fang Zuo frowned.
Freshly deceased, her face pale yet wearing an expression of utter satisfaction.
Drained to death.
Depleted of all yin energy.
Blood dried entirely.
A faint soul imprint lingered in the body.
These so-called 'evil gods' were no better than hyenas.
Not only crude in method,
But using carnal desire as a conduit for soul-stealing—something even a Maoshan apprentice could manage.
Then,
Essence, yin energy, soul—nothing spared.
A living person thoroughly consumed.
Leaving behind an empty shell.
Desperation incarnate.
Unsurprisingly, another unsolvable case.
Thump.
A small stool nearby was kicked over.
The beautiful journalist stood pale-faced, recording with her phone.
Despite her terror amplifying the sweat stains, she persisted with grim determination.
Remarkably professional.
Fang Zuo walked deeper into the room.
The cramped, old apartment felt suffocating.
He opened the wardrobe against the wall.
A shrine stood within.
Fanged with four arms.
Each arm held a ritual implement; skeletal beads hung across its chest.
The same evil deity.
Fang Zuo pointed—a beam of golden light shot out.
"By the Power of Maoshan, Subdue!"
It tightly bound the deity within the shrine.
Constricting relentlessly.
"You again, mighty Eastern cultivator! This land isn't yours! Why oppose us?"
This spirit was far stronger than the one at the Takeda residence—strong enough to speak through the idol.
The deity's face contorted grotesquely, black smoke rising as it resisted the golden light.
"I can spare you—you mean nothing to me. Tell me of your scheme. Your collective scheme?" Fang Zuo's expression remained blank.
"Never!" A furious roar echoed.
Suddenly, the corpse on the floor jerked upright.
Arms outstretched, it lunged to strangle Minami Kyouko.
"Aah!" Minami screamed, scrambling behind Fang Zuo, clutching him desperately.
The corpse pivoted stiffly, attacking Fang Zuo.
"Manipulating corpses in front of Maoshan?"
Fang Zuo chuckled.
A hand seal formed.
The soul imprint within the corpse vanished.
Thud! The corpse collapsed again.
Crack!
The shrine deity shattered under the golden pressure.
Its head fractured, tumbling down.
A crimson streak shot from the crack, fleeing outward.
Fang Zuo's hand closed in a grasping motion.
Golden light coiled layer after layer around the red streak, compressing it into a sphere.
He merged it with the previous crimson captive.
Clunk.
The headless idol crumbled to dust.
Fang Zuo felt his collar constrict around his neck.
Turning, he saw the journalist, trembling.
One hand death-gripped his collar; the other still clutched her recording phone.
Her frantic tugging stretched his shirt collar taut.
"Su...sumimasen."
Minami Kyouko, white as a sheet, released his collar under his glare.
The surreality overwhelmed her.
The corpse attack nearly stopped her heart.
Then, this man conversed with an idol.
Cinematic flashes of light.
Silence.
This defied everything her elite Waseda doctorate taught her.
Fang Zuo's gaze fell downward again.
Minami followed his look.
Terror had saturated her yoga pants.
Impossible to conceal.
"You... baka! Stop staring!" Minami hissed, cheeks burning crimson.
His gaze felt profoundly indecent.
"I only wondered why you sweat less above," he shrugged.
Minami turned away, pulling her clothing anxiously.
"Detective Fujino! What is happening?! Explain this!" Minami demanded, waving a clenched fist, her phone still recording. "The public has a right to know!"
Her eyes remained fixed on the screen; his testimony was her last piece.
Fang Zuo replied flatly:
"No interest. Do you honestly think you'll broadcast this? Overestimate yourself, Kitagawa Kyouko-san."
"It's Minami Kyouko," she corrected.
"Whatever."
Fang Zuo shrugged. Supernatural incidents bred mass panic.
No government would allow broadcast.
Absorbing the spirit yielded new clues: multiple entities existed.
Their identity? Number?
Purpose?
Just like his own inexplicable arrival here.
Answers multiplied as questions deepened.
With the idol neutralized, cleanup belonged to the officers below.
Closing his eyes, Fang Zuo scanned the apartment. Nothing.
Hmm?
He paused, studying Minami Kyouko.
"Fujino! I will report you if you keep staring!" she declared, each word sharp.
Fang Zuo stroked his chin. She clearly lacked real hardship. He wouldn't intervene.
Let her endure.
He turned towards the exit.
"Chotto matte!"
Minami called out suddenly.
"Su...sumimasen... Could you... lend me your jacket?"
Minami's voice was scarcely a whisper, thick with shame.
Her face burned scarlet.
"Huh?" Fang Zuo was genuinely surprised. Why the jacket?
He noticed her fidgeting posture, the impossible concealment of her sweat-drenched yoga pants.
Understood.
"No." Refusal absolute.
"You!" Stunned disbelief.
Minami Kyouko always took pride in her looks.
Male attention was familiar territory, Detective Fujino's intrusive gaze included.
Offering his jacket would be gentlemanly.
An assured path to her favor.
Yet he refused outright.
Never before had a man declined her request.
She couldn't possibly exit like this.
Tokyo's media vultures were certainly downstairs.
Live-streaming likely.
Descending now?
Within seconds, her humiliation would headline every news app.
High-definition close-ups of her disgrace would flood the internet.
"Chotto matte! I'll buy your jacket! Name the price!" Minami rushed forward, blocking his path.
"Beg me." The retort was cold and harsh.