It took Brian a moment to register what had been said. Finally, he replied:

  "As of now, we don’t offer that service here. But if we do in the future, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know."

  "Alright then..."

  John nodded, grabbed his bag, and headed out of the police station.

  "Captain, do you actually believe him?"

  The two constables approached Brian, their voices laced with doubt.

  "Believe him or not, he’s here to file a report. Now shape up and act like professionals!"

  Brian shot them a sharp glance.

  The pair ducked their heads, exchanging silent, skeptical looks. This is totally absurd...

  "Okay. If he comes back, send him straight to me."

  With that, Brian turned and walked back to his office without another word.

  ...

  "Did he buy any of that, or not?"

  John collapsed onto his couch at home, replaying Brian’s reaction in his mind.

  The man’s expression had seemed sincere enough, but maybe it was just professional courtesy. John couldn’t be sure.

  "Whatever. Doesn’t matter."

  He shook his head and muttered to himself, "The thing is, I know I’m not crazy. Ghosts and monsters are real."

  "But has the world always been this way, and I just never noticed? Or is this some kind of recent upheaval?"

  His eyes narrowed in thought.

  If the world really was changing, he needed to figure out what to do about it...

  "Going by the usual script, should I stock up on supplies? Build a safe house or something?"

  John pulled open a locked, weathered drawer. Inside was a jumble of cash—red 50-cent notes and green one-yuan bills.

  He carefully counted every last note.

  "Thirteen thousand three hundred and twenty-five yuan..."

  His gaze shifted to another drawer, where a thicker stack of bills sat. A decent sum, but not enough.

  "Plus this five grand... that makes a total of just over six thousand yuan..."

  He stared glumly out the window and sighed,

  "Forget it. Better just take things one day at a time..."

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  What could he even stock up on with that amount of money?

  And that was his entire life savings.

  John’s parents had died in an accident when he was little, leaving him with a house and a sizeable inheritance. But over the years, that money had dwindled to nothing.

  Now, he worked odd jobs and sold trinkets on the side to get by while finishing his last year of high school. The college entrance exam was fast approaching—light at the end of the tunnel.

  He figured he could scrape through university with scholarships and part-time work. After graduation, he’d get a steady job, get married, and have kids.

  That was the plan, anyway—the same ordinary future as everyone else.

  "First things first: get into college."

  "As for the world falling apart... the authorities will handle it, right? Probably doesn’t have anything to do with me anyway."

  Even though John knew the world was changing, he had nothing going for him except his wits. What else could he do?

  Glancing at the clock, he muttered, "It’s the weekend. Time to set up the stall early..."

  ...

  The footbridge in South Blackwater Town was bustling with people.

  "Well, well, look who’s up bright and early today, kiddo?"

  Old Luke, wearing tiny sunglasses, was arranging his stall. A handwritten sign propped up front read: Fortune-Telling, I Ching Divination, Feng Shui Consultations, Dream Interpretation & Curse Removal... Luke had picked up those mystical tricks from an old Chinese guy back in his day.

  "Got nothing better to do on the weekend. Might as well get here early," John replied, setting up his own stall nearby, covered in trinkets and charms.

  "Ain’t you supposed to be studying? Senior year of high school’s no joke, you know."

  Luke raised an eyebrow.

  "Gotta pay the bills somehow," John shrugged. "Why? You gonna sponsor me? I’ll pay you back once I graduate college, promise!"

  "Dream on! You think I’ve got money to burn? Besides, who knows if I’ll even live long enough to see that day."

  "Aren’t you the fortune-teller here? Why don’t you divine it?"

  "If I were that good, do you think I’d still be hawking fortunes on a footbridge?!"

  Luke shot him a glare. "Besides, I swear you’ve been leeching off me all these years..."

  "Leeching? Please. This is called business acumen," John retorted, gesturing to his own stall, stacked high with lucky charms and talismans.

  "Every time you tell someone their fortune, I sell ’em a charm to go with it. It’s called merchandising."

  He grinned. "And besides, it’s a two-way street. Half the people who buy my charms end up coming to you for a reading. We’re a perfect team."

  Luke was left speechless. The kid had a point.

  "Fine, fine. When you strike it rich someday, you can buy me a drink or something. How’s that?"

  John knew Luke was the real draw of their little partnership. Luke could’ve easily bought his own charms to sell—but he’d never minded letting John tag along.

  What really irked John, though, was that his charm business actually made more money than Luke’s fortune-telling.

  "Just focus on getting into college, kid. That’s all I ask," Luke said, waving off the subject. He knew John’s situation and had always looked out for him.

  The footbridge was a busy spot in South Blackwater, and Luke had built up quite a reputation as a fortune-teller over the years. Together, they made enough to cover their living expenses—nothing fancy, but enough to get by.

  By around ten o’clock that night, the crowds had thinned out. Vendors began packing up their stalls and heading home.

  Just then, a middle-aged woman came hurrying across the footbridge, her face etched with urgency. She scanned the vendors until her eyes locked onto Luke’s stall.

  "Hmm?"

  Luke perked up—customer.

  His fortune-telling business wasn’t exactly booming, but every client was pure profit—no overhead, no costs, just cash in hand.

  "Are you the famous Old Luke from this footbridge?" she asked breathlessly.

  "The one and only. What can I do for you? Fortune reading? Birth chart analysis?" Luke replied, slipping into his professional persona.

  "It’s like this..."

  The woman glanced nervously over her shoulder, making sure no one was listening before leaning in and whispering, "I think my child is possessed..."

  "Huh?"

  Luke froze, caught completely off guard.

  "Please, Master—you have to help us!" the woman begged. "I’ll pay you five thousand yuan if you can save my child!"

  Luke was still processing the word "possessed," but John’s ears perked up immediately at the mention of money. Five thousand yuan was no small sum in a city where the average monthly salary was just three thousand.

  And let’s be real—anyone with real money wouldn’t be coming to a street-side fortune-teller for help.