John cursed under his breath, smearing the black dog blood on his chest in a desperate attempt to drive the intruder out. But it did absolutely nothing.

  "It doesn’t even care about the blood?"

  He frowned, his mind racing to figure out a plan.

  Moments later, the gravely injured ghost was completely devoured, vanishing without a trace inside John’s body.

  As for the blood-red face? It disappeared too, like it had never been there at all.

  John didn’t care if he looked like a creep anymore. He yanked his shirt up and patted himself down frantically, but found nothing—not a single mark or trace of the ghost.

  Watching this bizarre scene unfold, Old Luke took a few cautious steps back.

  The guy was lifting his shirt and rubbing his chest with blood-soaked hands—what kind of weirdo was he?!

  Was he possessed now or something...?

  "Uh... Boss John..." Luke ventured, trying to sound casual despite his nerves.

  "Hmm?"John whipped around suddenly. "Luke! Quick—help me check my body! There was a ghost face here!"

  With that, he pulled his shirt off entirely, revealing his blood-streaked torso, and marched toward Luke.

  "..."Luke’s heart skipped a beat. This was way scarier than facing the actual ghost.

  "C-check for what exactly...?" he stammered.

  "That ghost face from earlier! Hurry!"

  "..."Luke’s legs trembled. He was this close to booking it out the door.

  "I’m serious! Help me look!"

  "Um, you two go ahead. We’ll just... excuse ourselves for a bit," the middle-aged woman said, scooping her child up and fleeing the room as fast as she could, her face pale with fright.

  This kid was way more terrifying than the ghost...

  Ten minutes later, the two men had searched every inch of John’s body—but found nothing. It was as if the blood-red face had never existed.

  "So it’s inside me now?"

  John scratched his head, a hint of helplessness creeping into his voice.

  "Fine. Whatever."

  He sighed, giving up the search and pulling his shirt back on. If it wasn’t going to kill him right away, he’d deal with it later.

  Besides, the thought of the fat payout waiting for him made his eyes light up with excitement.

  "Luke, about that reward money..."

  The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin—but with black dog blood still caked on his face, the expression looked more menacing than friendly.

  Luke took another step back, his voice squeaking a little. "Reward money? I thought I was just here for moral support!"

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Wow. Smooth save," John snorted, clapping him on the shoulder. "But for real—your black dog blood saved the day. 80-20 split. My call."

  "Boss John, you don’t have to! The blood wasn’t worth four grand!"

  "I said you get the 20 percent!" John shot him a glare. "And for the love of God, stop buying knockoff garbage online, will you?!"

  "Hey, I was just trying to save a buck..."

  Laughing and bickering, the two men headed out of the bedroom.

  The middle-aged woman was already waiting for them in the living room, her eyes brimming with gratitude—her son was finally back to normal.

  "Thank you, Masters! Thank you so much!" she gushed, practically bowing to them in her excitement.

  "Piece of cake," John shrugged, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky grin. "Let’s skip the pleasantries, though. Show us the money."

  The woman didn’t hesitate. She pulled out the five thousand yuan she’d prepared earlier and handed it over.

  "If anything else weird happens, just head to the footbridge and ask for Old Luke here," John added.

  "..."Luke’s face darkened. Why drag him into this...?

  "Thank you both so much! And thank you for the follow-up service!" the woman exclaimed, overjoyed at the promise of free aftercare.

  John nodded. He’d learned a long time ago that good customer service was key to any successful business...

  With the woman waving them off gratefully, the two men left the apartment.

  "Here’s your share—one grand," John said, keeping his word and handing Luke the cash.

  "Thanks, Boss John..." Luke mumbled, tucking the money into his pocket. Then his eyes lit up with a new idea. "Hey—what if we team up for this exorcism stuff? It pays way better than selling trinkets on the footbridge!"

  "Aren’t we already a team?"

  "I mean full-time exorcists! Think about it—big money, easy work!"

  "Forget it."John shook his head, not at all tempted by the prospect of quick cash. Sure, Luke’s black dog blood had been crucial today—but let’s be real: that ghost had been weak.

  It could barely scare people, let alone actually hurt anyone.

  And as for the blood-red face inside him? It was a total opportunist—playing dead until the enemy was half-dead before jumping in to steal the kill.

  Definitely not something he could count on...

  "You sure? We could make a killing!" Luke pressed, eager to latch onto John’s coattails after seeing how badass he’d been today.

  "Positive. I don’t mind ghosts—but I do mind getting killed by your idiocy!"

  Today’s little adventure had taught John one valuable lesson: Old Luke was a walking, talking disaster.

  "..."Luke’s mouth twitched. Did he have to be that blunt?

  "Hey, we made bank today! Let’s go grab a drink to celebrate!" Luke suggested, changing the subject quickly.

  "Luke, you’re like forty years older than me. We’re not exactly ‘buddy-buddy’ drinking pals," John deadpanned.

  "Nah, we can do the ‘mutual respect’ thing! You call me ‘Uncle Luke’, I call you ‘Boss John’—no conflict there!" Luke said, scratching his nose awkwardly. "Gotta have a tough guy like you watching my back from now on, right?"

  He’d always believed in ghosts, sure—but it was all just stories and hearsay until today. Now that he’d seen the real deal, he knew he needed to keep John close. Better to have a ghost-fighting maniac on speed dial if he ever ran into another spirit.

  "Fine, a drink sounds good... But we’re splitting the bill! AA only!"

  "Deal!"

  The two men found a street-side barbecue stall and treated themselves to a rare feast. For guys scraping by on pocket change, grilled meat and beer was a luxury they rarely indulged in.

  After a few rounds of beer, their banter flowed easier, their bond growing stronger—bound by shared days selling trinkets, shared drinks, and now, shared ghost-hunting adventures.

  "Hey Luke, I’m gonna clear out my stock tomorrow. I won’t be setting up the stall anymore," John said suddenly, taking a sip of his beer.

  "No more stall? Why?"

  "Senior year’s crunch time. I need to focus on studying for the college entrance exam."

  With the four grand he’d just earned plus his savings, he had more than enough to cover his expenses for the rest of the school year.

  "Alright then. I won’t save your spot anymore," Luke said, a hint of disappointment creeping into his voice. Sure, exorcisms paid better—but the footbridge would feel empty without John’s annoying face around. And he’d just found himself a powerful ally, only to lose him again.

  Seeing Luke’s glum expression, John smiled and tossed him a piece of paper. "Here’s my number. If you ever run into trouble—ghost-related or otherwise—give me a call. Can’t pick up during the day, but I’m free nights and weekends."

  "Yes!"Luke’s face lit up instantly, his disappointment vanishing. He grabbed the paper like it was a lifeline.

  "Wait a minute. I thought you were all about ‘fate bringing people together’ or whatever. Since when are you so eager to exchange phone numbers?" John teased.

  "Uh..." Luke cleared his throat, pretending to be casual. "Times change, okay? Fate’s unreliable. A phone number? That’s solid."