Fenric pressed two fingers against the wooden door, and no matter how hard Lindo pushed, the old man couldn’t close it.
"Young man, what do you think you’re doing? Let go, or I’ll call the police!" Lindo’s voice trembled with wariness.
"Uncle," Fenric said evenly, "Renée Chu has started killing again. Over twenty people are already dead. Now she’s after me. I don’t want to die... so I need your help."
Every word was a lie.
Those corpses were his doing, not the ghost’s. But the old man didn’t need that detail.
Lindo froze. His eyes widened in horror, then clouded with a sorrowful ache. His lips moved, voice cracking as he muttered to himself:
"...Aunt Mei... It’s been nearly a hundred years. Why can’t you let go?"
A long silence stretched. Then Lindo exhaled, shoulders sagging in resignation.
"Fine. I’ll take you there."
Fenric smiled faintly. As expected. Still the kind soul from the original plot—that’s why he’s the only one who lived this long.
Lindo slipped on an old pair of cloth shoes, locked his door, and led Fenric out.
"How far is it?" Fenric asked. "Do we need a taxi?"
"It’s a bit of a distance. Better call one," Lindo replied.
Fenric waved one down, and they climbed in. The taxi rolled through the traffic lights when, suddenly, a small truck barreled through a red light—its driver slumped, eyes vacant—charging straight toward the backseat.
The taxi had barely started forward; there was no time to accelerate clear.
Fenric’s face hardened.
Not good!
Boom!
His elbow smashed the car door. He yanked Lindo out like a rag doll and rolled them both onto the asphalt. The entire maneuver took less than a second.
Before Lindo even realized what happened, he was sprawled on the road—alive.
Crash!
The truck plowed into the taxi. The backseat crumpled into twisted steel. If they’d stayed inside, they’d be pulp.
The truck driver snapped out of his trance, face turning white as he stumbled out to check the wreck.
Fenric helped the trembling old man upright. But before he could speak, the air screamed with a fresh roar of tires.
A white sports coupe tore toward them at eighty kilometers an hour, horn blaring uselessly. Behind the wheel: a fashionably dressed young woman, shrieking in blind panic.
Fenric shoved Lindo clear—
—and turned to dodge, but there was no time.
Fine. Hard way, then.
Hum—
Armament Haki surged across his body in an instant, coating him in black steel.
BANG!
The coupe hit like a sledgehammer. Metal folded inward, the front end crumpling like paper. Fenric’s body rocketed through the air, skidding more than ten meters before slamming to a stop.
Two crashes in as many breaths. The city erupted in chaos. People poured out of their cars, gawking, whispering in shock.
"God, he took that head‑on! He’s dead for sure!"
"No way anyone survives that..."
But then, slowly—impossibly—Fenric rolled to his knees, rose, and stood. No limp. No blood. Not even a bruise.
"What!?"
Gasps rippled like wind through the crowd. Phones came out, cameras flashing.
Fenric ignored them all. He strode to the white coupe. Through the cracked glass, he saw the young woman slumped against the airbag, unconscious but breathing. Satisfied, he turned to the truck driver.
"What happened back there?" Fenric asked flatly.
The man’s lips quivered. "I—I don’t know! Everything just... went dark. Then the wheel—then—then—"
Fenric’s eyes narrowed.
As I thought. Renée Chu. Her second strike.
He swept his gaze across the street. No figure. No hint of black hair or blue silk. She was here—but cloaked, waiting.
Fenric returned to Lindo, who was still pale as chalk. "You saw that, right? Two ’accidents,’ both aimed at me. That’s no coincidence. That’s her."
The old man nodded stiffly, then raised a trembling hand and pointed ahead. "Aunt Mei... she’s buried on that mountain."
Fenric’s eyes followed the gesture—forest‑draped slopes looming in the near distance.
"I don’t know the exact spot," he said. "You’ll have to take me."
"I will," Lindo promised. Then his brows knitted. "But... boy, after what just happened—are you even all right?"
Fenric exhaled slowly. "I’m fine."
Not the truth.
Haki armor had saved his body from shredding, but his organs were still flesh and blood. That hit rattled him deep, pain pulsing with every breath. If his stats were not C+, he’d be drowning in his own blood by now.
The stronger the ghost, the heavier the hand. I need to end this fast...
They walked the rest of the way from the foot of the mountain, half an hour through silent scrub and broken stone paths, until Lindo stopped short.
He stared, eyes wide with disbelief. "Here... this was wilderness. Now..."
Now it was a construction site. Survey stakes pierced the soil, scaffolding clawed at the sky. A developer’s banner fluttered, promising luxury villas coming soon.
Fenric wasn’t surprised. The plot had warned him.
He turned to the old man. "If they built over the grave, then the bones... They’d have dumped them somewhere. Likely a gully—or a water pool nearby. You know one?"
Lindo nodded without hesitation. "There’s a pool not far. Clear water. We all used it for drinking back then. I’ll take you."
"Lead on, uncle."
Thank heaven the old man’s body still held out. Most men his age—nearly a hundred—would have collapsed by now. Guess kindness really does buy long years, Fenric thought grimly.
Soon, the forest broke to reveal a narrow pool nestled in rock, water glinting cold and still.
Lindo raised his hand. "There. That’s the only one."
Fenric’s eyes sharpened.
Perfect match to the original timeline. This is it. Renée Chu’s true grave.
If he’d searched alone, it could’ve taken days. Here, it took one name and one old man.
But now... the real work begins.