Chapter 20: The Haunted Villa

After Jo Qiao fired the shot, regret immediately washed over him. It was all the fault of that resentful spirit—its pose had been too tempting, and Jo Qiao simply couldn’t resist. Without thinking, he had fired at it.

The shrapnel from the exploding bullet pierced the woman’s head, vaporizing the spirit so completely that the half of her body protruding from the television vanished in an instant. The fragments then struck the seventy-seven-inch television, shattering its enormous screen.

If Jo Qiao remembered correctly, that television was worth at least a million yen. His heart ached at the loss. Still, since this was a wealthy villa, the television was probably insured, wasn’t it?

While pondering this, he spotted Asano Ariko frozen in place. Oh no. Now his regret doubled. Asano Ariko was supposed to be the main handler of this case, while he was merely her assistant. He was only meant to intervene when she couldn't manage things herself. With that impulsive shot, wasn’t he implying that Asano Ariko couldn’t handle the resentful spirit?

He realized that the spirit just now wasn’t particularly strong—Ariko should have been able to deal with it easily. Compared to the evil spirit at the bakery, this one was exceedingly weak. Jo Qiao even worried his breathing might have scattered it—an exaggeration, of course, but perhaps at least a sneeze would suffice.

Seeing Asano Ariko’s wide eyes, Jo Qiao offered an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I should have let you take care of it.”

Ariko opened her mouth, wanting to speak but hesitating. There was so much she wanted to ask, but more pressing matters took precedence. After witnessing Jo Qiao blow away the ghost’s head with a single shot, she finally pieced together the clues swirling in her mind.

“Mr. Jo, I’ve discovered something,” Ariko said. Under the moonlight, she glanced at the shattered television. “Earlier, the security guard told us that there were hauntings here at night. He described the spirit as having Mr. Ikeguchi Tetsu’s face, and all our investigation and assumptions have been based on the idea that Mr. Ikeguchi became a resentful spirit due to lingering obsessions.”

“That’s right,” Jo Qiao replied, still pondering how Ikeguchi Tetsu could have become a resentful spirit. He believed this was the crux of the matter.

Speaking, Jo Qiao tried turning on the lights, but no matter how he flicked the switch, nothing happened. He returned to Ariko’s side.

“But, Mr. Jo, the spirit you just killed,” Ariko carefully chose her words, “was clearly female, wasn’t it?”

Indeed. A resentful spirit is, at its core, a soul twisted by obsession and hate. The form of the spirit reflects its condition in life. If an animal died, its spirit would appear as an animal. When a person dies, their spirit retains a human form. A male’s spirit appears male; a female’s spirit appears female. If a male spirit wore a skirt, perhaps he was fond of cross-dressing—though that is beside the point.

Even when tormented by resentment and their faces warped, spirits never fundamentally change in this way—unless they become evil spirits. For example, the evil spirit at the bakery was so distorted it no longer resembled a human at all.

Therefore, if Ikeguchi Tetsu had become a resentful spirit, his ghost should still resemble him. The woman just now was obviously not the spirit of Ikeguchi Tetsu. That raised a question: who was she?

As she pondered this, Ariko rummaged through her bag and produced a telescopic bamboo wand, about twenty centimeters long, adorned with four white paper streamers. Jo Qiao recognized these as gohei, implements used by shrine maidens for exorcism and offerings. The term "gohei" is, in fact, an honorific, similar to "shintai," because in Japan, the words for "paper" and "god" are pronounced the same, so pure white Japanese paper has symbolic meaning in Shinto practice. It has nothing to do with any potato-growing company.

The gohei in Ariko’s hand was clearly for exorcism, imbued with spiritual power—likely a consumable, Jo Qiao thought.

Ariko gently waved the gohei, the paper streamers rustling in the dim villa’s living room. Though she wasn’t dressed in the traditional red and white robes of a shrine maiden, she radiated a sacred and solemn aura, making Jo Qiao briefly believe the wind had picked up. No, the wind truly had risen; he could see the flow of yin energy shifting. The gloom that had gathered around the television due to the spirit’s presence was now dispersing under Ariko’s ritual, thinning out.

Her skill was impressive—no wonder she was an apprentice shrine maiden from Atsuta Shrine, a masterful exorcist. Jo Qiao mused that the strength of a resentful spirit depends greatly on the concentration of yin energy. In his brief research career, he had learned that spirits attract one another. The birth of a resentful spirit requires yin energy, and a powerful spirit can convert itself and surrounding spiritual energy into more yin energy, strengthening itself. If it absorbs a large amount of yin energy in a short time, a spirit can temporarily become several times stronger. Weak spirits, however, cannot achieve this; their rate of consumption far exceeds their ability to convert energy, leading to gradual dissipation.

After studying over a hundred resentful spirits, Jo Qiao had nearly established a value: spirits below this threshold fade away without external stimulation, while those above grow increasingly powerful if left unchecked.

Jo Qiao defined this threshold as the "critical spiritual intensity," and the process of strengthening through energy conversion as the "chain reaction of resentful spirits." Of course, Jo Qiao didn’t believe his research was finished. He continued to study how a spirit’s gender, age at death, and other factors affected this chain reaction and critical intensity. Learning is endless.

At this moment, Ariko’s actions were channeling and thinning the villa’s yin energy, preventing enemies from absorbing it and growing stronger. Brilliant. Jo Qiao had not mastered such a technique; he was surprised that the results of his half-year’s research were casually grasped by Ariko. Truly worthy of Atsuta Shrine.

At the same time, he noticed something else. Normally, the villa’s resentful spirit had already been eliminated by Jo Qiao, but Ariko was still channeling yin energy, clearly preparing for further exorcism. This meant she believed there were other spirits present.

Indeed, Jo Qiao agreed. At least, if the security guard hadn’t hallucinated, Ikeguchi Tetsu’s spirit should still haunt the villa.

Once Ariko finished channeling the yin energy, she took out several sheets of white Japanese paper, placing them in the four corners of the living room. Next, she produced a kagura bell—a proper shichi-go-san bell, with three bells on the first layer, five on the second, and seven on the third. After all, her family’s hoko-saki bell couldn’t be used at will.

A clear, ringing sound echoed, and the sheets of paper floated in the corners. Jo Qiao sensed a certain spiritual energy now filling the space—thin, perhaps only a standard unit, but even such faint energy was enough to lure a resentful spirit. To a spirit, this pure spiritual energy scattered in the air was the most delicious treat.

Sure enough, before Jo Qiao could speak, he saw on the ceiling above the ostentatious chandelier a figure with its head twisted ninety degrees, wearing ragged T-shirt and jeans, crawling like a spider. Its head trembled as it turned toward Jo Qiao.

“Huh?” Jo Qiao murmured.

Because this resentful spirit was, again, not Ikeguchi Tetsu, but another unfamiliar woman.