Double Chapter
Thinking this, Jiangxia pointed at the storeroom and said to Yoko Takeda, who was leading the way, "Let's go take a look over there."
Heiji Hattori nearly tripped over his own feet.
He clearly remembered: before those bear children twins popped out, when Yoko asked Jiangxia where he wanted to start, Jiangxia had pointed straight at the main house.
— Heiji, as a proud detective cadre himself, always checked the crime scene first. In this case, that would obviously be the storeroom where Akio Negishi died.
So when he'd seen Jiangxia confidently point at the main house instead, Heiji had been deeply impressed — he'd almost taken out a notebook to jot down this unexpected, "advanced" logic.
And now? Jiangxia was pointing right back at the storeroom.
Heiji asked, baffled, "Weren't you going to the main house just now?"
"…Yeah, but now the ghosts ran off to the storeroom again…"
Jiangxia kept his face perfectly straight. "I thought about it. It's still more prudent to start at the scene."
Heiji: "…"
He wanted so badly to ask why the main house had made sense in the first place.
But in the end, the pride of a detective wouldn't let him sound like a clueless punk. So he swallowed the question.
Next to them, Yoko Takeda didn't overthink it. She didn't really understand how detectives operated — as long as Jiangxia wanted to see the storeroom, she'd lead him there.
Heiji and Kazuha trailed behind obediently.
Rob, meanwhile, scurried off to the kitchen to "help" the maid.
— He'd killed someone just days ago, was plotting another murder, and really didn't want to hang around detectives longer than necessary.
But if he wanted to kill Shinichi Takeda later, he needed an ironclad alibi. So for now, all he could do was help cook, desperately praying his knife skills wouldn't be too suspicious.
…
The storeroom wasn't far. With Yoko guiding them, they arrived in no time.
Unfortunately, no matter how fast they came, Jiangxia still didn't get a clear look at that ghost.
The moment they stepped in, he glimpsed a few blurry, translucent shapes flitting around a corner, gone in an instant.
He didn't catch the details, but that speed…
A bad premonition crawled up his spine. He pictured eight thick, furry spider legs scuttling lightning-fast across the floor.
Yoko glanced back and saw Jiangxia staring grimly into the corner.
She followed his gaze — only to find a tiny spider dangling from its silk thread.
"Oh!" Yoko blinked and laughed awkwardly. "We just have a lot of spiders here. They're harmless, really — they don't bite, but they're impossible to get rid of, so we let them be."
Heiji frowned at the small spider. He remembered that old legend Yuzo Takeda had muttered about on the way here — plus three hanged bodies. It all smelled like a clue.
"I heard you worship some Spider Lord here?" Heiji asked. "What's it like?"
— If the deaths mirrored the Spider Lord's "habits," then maybe these "suicides by hanging" weren't so innocent after all.
Yoko corrected him quickly. "Not worship — 'vigilance' is more accurate."
Seeing the three guests leaning in with curiosity, she hesitated, then began:
"Long ago, it's said a beautiful woman lived on this mountain — so stunning, she looked like a celestial being. She'd stop travelers by the roadside, asking them gentle questions:
'Do you believe paradise exists in this world?'
'What kind of place is it?'
'Would you like to come with me to see it?'
"Travelers would fall under her spell and nod. She'd lead them deep into the forest, never to return."
A chill crept down Kazuha's back. Heiji crossed his arms, intrigued.
Yoko went on, "A puppeteer heard the rumor. He made a life-sized puppet that could walk on its own, setting it on the mountain path to test the legend. He hid and watched.
"The Spider Lord showed up, asked her three questions — but the puppet never replied. Bit by bit, her eyes turned red, her lips split open, and her hands and feet cracked into six.
She transformed right there into a giant, hideous spider, lunging at the puppet that ignored her."
Giant, ugly spider…
Jiangxia perked up like a picky customer. "Is it really that ugly?"
Yoko flinched, not understanding. But she answered seriously, "Yes."
Seeing him look a little disappointed, she quickly added, "But the human form is extremely beautiful!"
Jiangxia nodded absently. He thought of that ghost's lightning dash just now — so fast, not even the winged Tengu or the mermaid that could swim in the air could catch it.
No way that thing was in human form.
Seeing he didn't press further, Yoko cleared her throat and continued:
"The puppeteer, hiding in the trees, snapped out of her spell. He fired rockets at the spider, burning it alive. It screamed and fled into its nest, where it finally died.
"Later, villagers, afraid of its curse, built a small shrine at the nest. That's how 'Puppet Peak' got its name — to honor the puppeteer."
Kazuha tapped her chin, genuinely impressed. "If this mountain was easier to reach, that Spider Temple would totally be a tourist trap!"
"Ah, well…" Yoko looked embarrassed. "The Spider Temple doesn't exist anymore. After my father-in-law died, Shinichi-nii-san expanded the property — he tore down the temple and built a warehouse on the same spot.
"Three years after that warehouse was finished, Misa and Kinuyo-san hanged themselves in there. Both bodies were discovered late, wrapped in thick spiderwebs…
"And…" Yoko's voice dropped. "And although Mr. Negishi died in the storeroom, not the Puppet Warehouse, his corpse was wrapped in fishing lines — like layers of spider silk, binding him up tight."
Heiji's eyes gleamed. That's it!
Maybe the deaths from three years ago were blurry, but Negishi's body wrapped like a human cocoon?
No way that was an accident.
It looked like someone really was using this "Lord Spider" gimmick to kill people…
Speaking of which — what had the head of the Takeda family just whispered to Jiangxia?
Heiji Hattori had only caught the first bit, "investigating Akio Negishi's cause of death," before their voices got too low to hear.
Heiji squinted at Jiangxia, about to lean in and ask — when the maid and Rob appeared at the door.
They knocked and announced enthusiastically, "Dinner is ready!"
Jiangxia caught Yoko Takeda's questioning look, nodded, and turned to follow her. Might as well eat.
At this point, the storeroom held no interest for him — the key clue clearly wasn't there, and there were no ghosts hanging around either. Might as well fill his stomach first.
…
The maid had prepared quite a sumptuous spread.
Jiangxia found a seat, picked up his chopsticks — then paused, remembering that organisation cadre who'd been poisoned by a single pill, and Gin's "helpful" warning.
A second later, he shrugged it off and casually picked up a piece of fried fish.
…It should be fine.
Sure, his senior's experience had been… educational. But Jiangxia had already thrown his slow, leftover parent ghosts — the ones too sluggish for ghost hunts — onto the maid to keep an eye on the food.
From their reports, no one had tampered with anything, and Shinichi Takeda hadn't even stepped into the kitchen.
Plus, if Shinichi really wanted him to find the mole quickly, he'd need this detective to stay sharp — slipping him something weird now would just leave him with a useless tool person.
So Jiangxia crunched into the golden fried fish without a care in the world.
Across the table, the twin bear children perched beside Yoko Takeda were staring straight at him.
Seeing him eat, the two girls looked down at their own plates — then froze.
They turned to their mother, voices crisp and confused: "Mommy, why don't we have fish?"
"The fish was bought according to the number of people, so…" Yoko coughed lightly, picking up her own piece. "Then Mommy's will be yours."
After Sister-in-law Kinuyo died, the entire household budget had been managed by Shinichi Takeda.
And Shinichi Takeda was the kind of yinbi who pinched pennies so hard they squeaked — he refused to buy even a scrap more than necessary.
With so many surprise guests tonight, there just wasn't enough fish to go around.
Other dishes could be split without much fuss, but one whole fish per person? That was impossible to hide.
Yoko had decided: guests should be treated well. So she gave her share to the kids.
She'd assumed the twins, who usually got distracted while eating, wouldn't notice.
She did not expect them to clock the missing fish immediately…
Jiangxia heard the exchange, felt the two pairs of round eyes locked onto his chopsticks, and paused mid-chew.
He recalled how their eyes had trailed the tip of his chopsticks earlier, as if the fish might sprout wings and fly their way.
His chewing slowed. …Why does it feel like this is my fault?
But he'd already bitten into it. He eyed the remaining half of his fish — and without any hesitation, crunched it into his mouth.
Chew. Chew. Gulp.
Under the full force of those resentful bear child stares, Jiangxia dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and got up mid-meal.
Dividing fish? He'd let Yoko Takeda handle that challenge herself.
A great detective has more important things to do — like go meet his newly cornered ghost.
—
After turning two corners, he slipped into the empty restroom.
Sure enough, there it was — the ghost perched on the sink, finally surrounded after a full-on ghost chase.
Mermaid, Tengu, Akemi Miyano, and Xiaobai had the thing boxed in, all glaring at it from four sides.
Jiangxia leaned closer for a better look.
He'd braced himself for a big hairy spider. But when this speed demon finally stopped, it was just a beautiful ghost fetus in a straw hat.
Most of it was hidden under flowing clothes, but the visible bits were unmistakably a Q-version human — no freaky eight eyes or extra legs or any of that mess.
He let out a small sigh of relief.
No one was around, so he tried a guess. "Madam Kinuyo?"
The new ghost peeked up at him, then quickly dropped its head, sleeves hiding its face.
Well, that seemed like a reaction, but didn't really confirm anything. He tried again: "Miss Misa?"
This time, the ghost visibly froze.
Slowly, it raised its oversized sleeve, covering its face even more. Then it did an elegant half-shuffle, turning its back to him as if too embarrassed to be seen.
Jiangxia: "…"
So "Misa" got a stronger response. But he couldn't rule out that Madam Kinuyo just remembered her own scandal — having a child with her brother-in-law — and got too ashamed to show her face.
This name-guessing thing was dumb. Better to poke directly.
Jiangxia reached out and gave it a gentle poke.
The instant he touched it, he could sense the ghost's obsession — and ghosts with obsessions were easy to trick. If they wanted something done, they'd usually figure out that a spirit medium could help them out.
The pretty ghost twitched, clearly wanting to bolt again. But maybe the mermaid's glare was too fierce, or maybe it realized Jiangxia might be its only way out — so it just froze instead.
Jiangxia studied its reaction and nodded to himself. Good, it could communicate.
So he slipped into his familiar sales pitch:
"Do you have any wishes? I can help you with them… in exchange for a small price, of course." Like selling yourself to this diligent spirit medium.
…
After a short back-and-forth, Jiangxia confirmed that this ghost was indeed Misa Takeda — the one who'd "hanged herself" first.
She'd been a nurse at a nearby hospital — beautiful, cheerful, living a peaceful life.
Until Shinichi Takeda discovered he was infertile and that Misa wasn't really his daughter.
After that, her world fell apart.
Shinichi had once shoved her into a pillar during a fight, disfiguring her. And then he'd forced her to hear the ugly truth about her birth — the father she'd loved wasn't her father at all.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 31 - 90 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 8/60(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS
Goal #2: One BONUS CHAPTER per review for the first 10 REVIEWS.
Progress:4/10*