Chapter 57. Shall I scan you, or will you scan me?

Shigeyama Shigeru was a high school teacher. In the face of the pressure of college entrance exams, the students were troubled. The teachers were even more troubled.

It was Saturday. Shigeyama, forty-seven this year, still went to school to prepare for the upcoming review sessions for various exams. In the afternoon, he received a call from his wife and took the subway home. He hadn’t expected to be suddenly stopped by a young man, who claimed that a great deal of yin energy had accumulated around him. A charlatan, perhaps?

Although this world undeniably contained phenomena that traditional science could not explain, Shigeyama was not the type to believe in every superstition he encountered.

“And you are?” Shigeyama asked. Was this some street fortune-teller or perhaps a new kind of scam? Would the youth claim next that he was the reincarnation of some famous exorcist and ask Shigeyama to wire him money?

“Ah, apologies—I am an exorcist.” The young man, Qiao Qiao, produced his credentials. Shigeyama’s expression changed immediately. This was the benefit of joining an official organization: if Qiao Qiao had been a private exorcist, he would have had to spend much more time explaining.

They exchanged a few words, but the street was noisy and chaotic, so they moved to a nearby café, ordered two cups of coffee, and spoke quietly.

“Master, you said just now that I’ve accumulated yin energy—what does that mean?” Shigeyama, already somewhat weary, felt even more oppressed after Qiao Qiao’s words.

“Mr. Shigeyama, have you recently felt unusually fatigued, suffered frequent nightmares, and found yourself clashing more often with your family?” Qiao Qiao did not answer directly but instead posed the question.

“...That’s exactly right.”

Lately, Shigeyama had been exhausted. The class he led had performed poorly in the mock exams, his work had seen several mistakes, and his daughter, whose due date was near, was unwilling to speak with him. Even his wife’s tone on the phone that day had been curt. To cap it all, the Akita dog that had been with him since his youth had died recently from illness. Everything seemed to be going wrong, leaving him irritable and on edge.

“Vengeful spirits attack the mind first,” Qiao Qiao explained. “When your spirit is weary and vulnerable, it’s easier for these entities to take hold. Eventually, the spirit will completely invade your space—perhaps even use you as a source to harm others.”

“What—what should I do?” Shigeyama grew more anxious as he listened, his hand trembling as he held his coffee cup. If something happened to him, that was one thing. But his wife, his daughter—

His daughter’s unborn child. Even his students at school. If anything happened to them, what then?

“However, Mr. Shigeyama, the yin energy around you is unusual—there’s something different about it,” Qiao Qiao said, peering at him with spiritual sight. Shigeyama did not appear like someone utterly consumed by a vengeful spirit, his life force nearly extinguished. Rather, he seemed like someone without spiritual power who had long been host to a spirit, resulting in mental exhaustion. This in turn caused the surrounding yin energy to accumulate, making the symptoms intensify.

“Please, Master, help me.” Shigeyama pleaded earnestly.

“Of course, don’t worry. As an exorcist, it’s my duty to help you. However…” Qiao Qiao took out his phone, opened his photo album, and showed Shigeyama a QR code. “Mr. Shigeyama, please scan this code to download the Exorcist Association’s app.”

Shigeyama stared at the QR code, bewildered. Had exorcists become so modern? There was even an app? Perplexed, he took out his phone and scanned it, quickly installing the app. It wasn’t anything strange; when he opened it, the association’s logo greeted him.

“You exorcists are really keeping up with the times,” Shigeyama remarked as he browsed the app. Within, there were forms to fill out, requests to post, and after-service reviews. One could also look up exorcists’ résumés and user ratings, and there were snippets of supernatural knowledge and information. Small but comprehensive.

“Yes, please fill out the request here and enter my code…” Qiao Qiao patiently walked him through the process. The app had been in development for a while; perhaps the recent monster incident had spurred the association to finally rush it to release. Since it was still in its promotional phase, not many people used it. Qiao Qiao, hoping to help spread the word, saved the download QR code and resolved to have future clients use it.

In Qiao Qiao’s opinion, the app was still rather conservative. For instance, posting a request only sent the information to headquarters; exorcists had to refresh to see new jobs. Compared to before, it merely saved time spent traveling between the association and clients. If only they could build an intelligent job-assignment system, add discount coupons, and use exorcism as a core to expand into famous haunted sites—incorporating supernatural-themed food, entertainment, and travel—it might have great potential.

Moreover, while the information on supernatural phenomena was thorough, the average person probably wouldn’t browse it without reason. Why not add a learning and assessment system, ranking points among friends on Line? That way, social interaction would be encouraged and knowledge of the supernatural spread—a perfect combination.

Of course, Qiao Qiao was not one of the app’s designers; perhaps they had deeper considerations. He was not a professional in this field and merely offered feedback without delving further.

Shigeyama quickly finished submitting his request. Qiao Qiao received the job through his code as well.

“If I don’t find a vengeful spirit, there’ll be no charge for this job,” Qiao Qiao explained. “If I do, depending on the circumstances, the fee will be fifty to a hundred thousand yen.”

“No problem,” Shigeyama replied. His income was decent, and that amount was manageable for him.

“Then if you’d be so kind, Mr. Shigeyama, please take me to your home so I can have a look.” Most residences were prone to accumulating yin energy, so it was only natural for Qiao Qiao to make this request. Shigeyama did not refuse; after calling his wife, he brought Qiao Qiao to his home near Shibuya Station.

It was a two-story detached house with a spacious yard. Qiao Qiao noticed a doghouse in the yard, unused for some time. After changing into slippers, he entered the living room on the first floor.

“Please have some tea.” Shigeyama’s wife, Chizuko, was the archetypal Japanese housewife. Even faced with her husband’s sudden guest, she remained perfectly polite, serving tea and water. Afterward, she exchanged a few words with Shigeyama—probably urging him to finally dismantle the doghouse in the yard.

Qiao Qiao took a sip of tea and stood up to inspect the living room. Scanning with spiritual sight, he found considerable accumulations of yin energy—so much so that even Chizuko had been affected.

“Hm?” Qiao Qiao noticed several photographs on the living room cabinet.

“That’s my daughter, Makoto. She’s in the hospital preparing for childbirth and isn’t home right now,” Shigeyama explained, seeing Qiao Qiao’s curiosity.

“No, Mr. Shigeyama, I’m referring to this dog.” Qiao Qiao had noticed that in many of the photographs, a dog appeared—a common Akita in Japan.

“That’s Yuzu, a dog I found years ago. Unfortunately, she died two months ago.” As he spoke, Shigeyama’s expression grew somber.

“I see.” Qiao Qiao nodded, looking again at the photos. The Akita, which had been lazily sprawled in the picture, was now sitting upright, gazing at Qiao Qiao with a classic, almost comical expression.