Jangxia Tongzhi responded absentmindedly.
He'd been flying his puppet for way too long yesterday, and it had drained his energy.
But hey, psychics aren't ghosts. Ghosts can only recharge by snacking on ghost mint. Jangxia, being a living person, had the added luxury of using sleep to restore his energy—though he still carried some ghost mints around for emergencies.
Now that he had more and more ghosts under his belt—each one a greedy little energy drain—he figured there was no point in staying awake while someone else was driving. Might as well recover the good old-fashioned way: unconsciousness.
He nestled into a corner of the temple hall, hugged a ghost on each side like fluffy murder-pillow pets, and started dozing off again.
This was originally the legendary "Mist Tengu" case, known for its wild fusion of science and metaphysics. It had once earned high praise as a complex and mind-bending whodunit.
But now? The old monk had just dropped dead on his own. Jangxia wasn't about to out himself, and there was no reasoning trail to chase.
Rather than hang around and say nothing, he chose the wise path: fade into the background and leave everything to the police. Worst-case scenario, wasn't there a certain scruffy old detective hanging around?
This temple was technically still in Tokyo, so the responding officer was Inspector Megure.
Megure strode into the hall and immediately spotted Jangxia slumped in a corner. His steps faltered.
"…Didn't expect to run into Jangxia again, especially in a place this remote. Guess that means we've got ourselves another murder."
Megure dispatched his team to check the scene and walked over himself.
Seeing how groggy Jangxia looked, Megure decided to joke around a bit. Maybe jolt him awake.
"Looks like the temple couldn't suppress the ghost of Brother Kudo. Maybe try a shrine next time to ward off evil spirits?"
He wasn't worried about being counter-spooked like last time—he'd recently confirmed that Kudo Shinichi was alive and well.
But before Jangxia could open his mouth, someone else spoke up.
"There are no 'grudges' in this world. The police shouldn't buy into that kind of thing. And even if grudges existed, they'd only be born from your department's inefficiency—maybe instead of hunting temples and shrines, you should focus on solving crimes faster."
Megure flinched. That felt like a workplace evaluation straight from HR.
He turned around and saw a young man with blond hair, dark skin, and a foreign vibe. The guy looked serious enough to be a tax auditor.
Even though the man was clearly younger, Megure felt an odd pressure radiating from him.
"…And you are?"
Jangxia answered lazily, "That's my boss from the detective agency."
He glanced sideways at Amuro Toru.
For some reason, Toru had sounded way too intense just now. Like that "no grudges" speech wasn't meant just for Megure. Was there… hidden meaning?
Feeling a little guilty, Jangxia signaled his ghosts to do a casual perimeter check around Amuro.
The ghosts floated past, one by one, even letting their ghost faces pass right through him.
Toru didn't flinch. He just stared straight ahead, clearly unaware of the paranormal parade drifting by.
Jangxia exhaled. Right. Toru's a hardcore materialist. He'd never believe in ghostly grievances anyway…
———
While Jangxia napped, the police interviewed the temple's little monks.
Jangxia wasn't worried about Xiunian—the kid wouldn't out him or the Tengu. Even if he tried, who'd believe him? And it's not like anyone could track the Tengu puppet.
Plus, the puppet looked like a version of Jangxia's own soul. Even if the kid had gotten a good look, he'd never connect it to Jangxia.
To his surprise, Xiunian played it cool. His acting was top-tier—he gave nothing away during questioning.
Unfortunately, that left the investigation at a dead end.
Toru got a recap of the old "Mist Tengu Murder Case" from two years ago via a monk. He had a pretty good hunch about how the killer pulled it off back then.
But the current case? The cause of death and crime scene details didn't match. Different situation.
Megure glanced over at Jangxia—who, along with his "senior," was peacefully snoring on the table. Neither of them seemed remotely interested in solving anything.
With a sigh, Megure figured maybe this wasn't even a homicide. No wonder it didn't fall under Jangxia & Co.'s jurisdiction.
But just as the police were about to pack it in, something weird happened.
Residents at the foot of the mountain sent over two photographs.
Apparently, they'd been driving past last night when they spotted a weird bird in the sky. Snapped a photo for fun.
This morning, they developed the film and realized… that wasn't a bird.
It looked more like a man with wings, carrying another person.
The photo was blurry—nighttime, long distance—but just fuzzy enough to let people's imaginations run wild.
A few officers remembered the strange feather marks they'd seen on the beam above the confinement room.
Add in the legend of the tengu, and some nervous cops had already begun silently praying to Buddha.
They were swiftly scolded by Megure, who repeated Amuro's earlier line: "There are no grudges, no tengu's, and no supernatural nonsense. Get a grip."
———
In the end, the case remained a mystery. The police had no choice but to close it temporarily.
As they left, the car Amuro had called for finally arrived.
Jangxia got in with him.
In the backseat and trunk sat a single spare tire… and several suspicious-looking mousetraps.
Jangxia made a mental note of where the traps were placed—would be a shame to get pinched—and then cuddled a ghost and resumed his nap. Destination: Izu.
Amuro, meanwhile, was quietly brooding over the unsolved case. He still had other work to do, and there weren't any leads anyway. Staying longer would just make things worse.
Definitely something weird with the magnetic field around that temple, he thought.
———
Once they arrived, Amuro nudged Jangxia awake.
Though he didn't say it out loud, his expression clearly screamed: Are you possessed? Maybe you should visit a shrine. This can't go on.
But Amuro was a devout materialist, so he bit his tongue.
They were now at the Izu seaside, where swanky hotels lined the coast.
Naturally, Amuro didn't book one of those.
Instead, he picked a small guesthouse near a pottery classroom and claimed the top floor.
From there, with a telescope, you could just make out the courtyard of Kikuemon Pottery—a classic "shop in front, house in back" setup.
Amuro closed the curtains, set up his scope, and did some subtle surveillance.
No immediate red flags.
So he decided to sneak in that evening, scope things out, and then use his "experience coupon" the next day to get into the classroom and ask around properly.
After all, people working in "classrooms" tended to be chatty and loose-lipped.
Jangxia, on the other hand, was wildly unenthusiastic.
He already knew the "eavesdropping pottery" Amuro was so interested in was just an oolong, a red herring—a training prop for a wannabe killer. Nothing to do with that organization.
Even if it was, it had nothing to do with him.
After all, he was just an innocent peripheral member...
He was planning to go right back to sleep.
But just as he hit the mattress, Amuro knocked and handed him a book: Introduction to Ceramic Art. Who knows where he even got it.
"They're choosing a pottery successor," Amuro said. "If you show some talent, you might get closer to the source."
Then he went back to his telescope.
Jangxia stared at the book and sighed.
Amuro was truly a genius at creating work for his subordinates.
Still, he wasn't completely hopeless with his hands. He'd never worked with pottery, sure—but back when he only had shikigami, he'd gotten good at sculpting puppets from scratch.
Clay or spiritual puppet matter—it was all squishy stuff in the end.
He flipped through Introduction to Ceramic Art, tossed it aside, locked the door, and went back to sleep.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 17/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS*