Leo had never met his biological father. Still, when he learned of his death, a strange weight pressed on his chest.
"Old stories… not worth revisiting," his 'grandmother' said, her expression flat, her tone dismissive.
Clearly, she had no intention of diving into whatever tale hid behind her cryptic past. Leo figured it was probably one of those long, emotional family sagas best left untold.
So he changed the topic. "So, uh… what are you, exactly? I know that's rude, but I'm just a college student. I don't have the vocabulary for… whatever this is."
Ancient demons and bloodlines? Okay, maybe those could be explained away as "prehistoric anomalies." But how was this beautiful young woman—who claimed to be over a hundred years dead—sitting on his couch right now?
"I was turned into a Battle Soul at eighteen," she said casually. "My essence was sealed in a spirit gem by the family. Only descendants of the Lee bloodline can awaken me. Over the past hundred years, I've had many hosts. Your father was my last one. And now, it's your turn."
Leo swallowed hard. "So… you're a Lee too? That means… I should be calling you great-great-great… aunt?"
"Ew, no. That sounds awful." She scrunched her nose. "Just call me Granny. It's cuter."
...What?
Was seniority in this family just up for grabs?
Leo mentally surrendered. Fine. Granny it is.
He sat in silence, trying to process the mental wreckage. Bloodline rituals, ancient spirits, war souls? Just yesterday, he would've sprayed soda on anyone talking like this.
But here he was: reading a will, eating a weird candy orb, and summoning a teenage girl who claimed to be his ancestor.
His worldview had just taken a wrecking ball to the face.
Granny, meanwhile, yawned and curled up on the couch, promptly falling asleep.
Leo watched her. Her beauty was ridiculous—like someone had pulled her straight from an anime. Flawless skin, delicate features… no wrinkles, no blemishes. It wasn't just unnatural. It was… animated.
"How am I supposed to call you Granny?" he muttered.
At the very least, dye your hair white or draw a few wrinkles. Right now, you're a walking fanservice trope.
Compelled by some chaotic impulse, Leo poked her cheek.
She scrunched her face adorably in her sleep.
Goddamn it, even her reflexes were cute.
Evening crept in. Leo's stomach growled. He gently nudged her awake. "Wanna go out to eat? If you, uh… eat?"
At the mention of food, Granny shot upright, her eyes half-lidded but voice energetic: "I want spicy Chinese food. Real stuff. Mala!"
Leo blinked. "…You really were living with my dad, huh?"
"Well, no Chinese takeout today," he declared. "Granny, I'm taking you to a proper restaurant."
Leo's apartment sat atop a commercial block. Downstairs: noodle shops, barbers, laundromats—everything a college dropout could ever need.
In this culinary jungle, one chain reigned supreme: Panda Express.
There were three within walking distance. Two stewed chicken joints and—sadly—no Lanzhou hand-pulled noodles. Shame. Expansion too slow. Needs criticism.
Not that Leo liked Lanzhou noodles anyway. He always felt like the beef was one strong breeze away from vanishing.
They settled into a modest corner booth at "Panda Diner."
Leo ordered pigeon soup. Granny went for black-boned chicken. Both ended up with watery eyes, but not from spice.
Granny chewed like a chipmunk. "This is incredible. I haven't eaten anything this good in years."
"Me neither," Leo sniffled. "Been living off instant ramen for two weeks."
The restaurant owner—a man with permanent dark circles under his eyes—kept sneaking glances at Granny.
So did the other patrons. Some even stopped eating. One high-school girl gawked openly, probably wondering why a top-tier anime waifu was eating next to a broke college dude.
"You're just like your father—broke as hell," Granny scoffed.
"I'm not broke," Leo retorted. "My adoptive family's got money. I just... invested it all in motel rooms."
Granny raised an eyebrow. "Motel rooms?"
"You know," he smirked. "Ancient bedroom rites. Very traditional."
Granny blinked, then gasped. "Wait—Little Lee, you've already taken a wife?"
"No, no, Granny. It's not like that. Times have changed. Men and women nowadays can just—hang out. Naked. Casually. Also, please don't call me Little Lee. Just Leo is fine."He had moved out for a reason—to live wild and free. He wasn't attached, but he'd definitely been around. With good looks and a charming personality, Leo saw no reason to waste his youth.
Unlike those eternally virgin protagonists, he wasn't here to save himself for the plot.
Granny nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. So you've been frequenting brothels. Like father, like son. Just don't get married. That's when he cut my food budget."
Leo accepted it. This weird girl—ghost—whatever, was now a part of his life. Dad's final gift.
The weird part? She acted more like an annoying roommate than a mystical guardian.
"Granny," he said, "Even if I agree, I don't think my hormones will."
"They will," she said, waving a delicate hand.
…Excuse me?
Was that a threat?
Leo eyed her curvy figure. To be fair… hormones might start negotiating soon.
His dirty thoughts were interrupted by a soft whimper.
At his feet sat a filthy Samoyed, eyes pleading, fur knotted with grime.
"Western dog?" Granny frowned, tossing half a chicken leg its way.
"Shoo!" the owner's wife stormed over, kicking the dog away. "Should've broken the other leg while I was at it."
The dog whimpered, limped away, and slumped into a flower bed.
"Granny, what are you staring at?" Leo noticed her gaze fixed on the owner.
"You don't see it?" she whispered. "Right. You're not awakened."
"See what?"
"There's a ghost behind him."
Leo froze. He turned. Nothing. "Granny, be serious. There are no such things as—"
"Wanna see?"
He nodded instantly.
"It'll drain a bit of energy."
"Whatever. I need to see if ghosts are hot. Like you."
"I'm not a ghost. I'm a Battle Soul."
She leaned forward, sucked a tiny breath from him—her cheeks flushed pink—and tapped his forehead with two fingers.
At first, nothing happened.
Then came the heat. His eyes felt like twin furnaces had ignited behind them.
"Now look again," she said.
Leo turned—just in time to see an old woman in gray perched on her toes, blowing cold wind onto the cook's neck.
What. The. Hell.
"Crank the AC!" the owner shouted. "It's freezing in here!"
His wife glared. "You've been too weak lately."
No one else saw the ghost. People kept eating. The owner's wife weaved through tables. No one noticed the woman in gray.
But Leo saw her clearly—and she saw him.
Her head snapped around, spinning 180 degrees.
Leo's heart dropped.
Her face was a mess of wrinkles, eyes bloodshot and dead.
She stared at Leo like she could see his soul.
The world turned icy.
"Don't look," Granny whispered, covering his eyes. "If you lock eyes, she'll latch on."
Leo nodded.
After a moment, the burning sensation faded. He peeked. The ghost was gone.
"The man recently lost a parent," Granny murmured. "Souls linger for seven days. The red in her eyes… shows unresolved anger. He wasn't a good son."
"Is he going to die?"
"She's just blowing out his yang fire. He'll catch the flu."
Leo paid the bill and left in a daze.
"Is there really no afterlife?" he asked.
"When you die, the light goes out. No gods. No hell," she said.
So… no reincarnation?
Leo sighed, scratching out 'Underworld' from his mental notes.
Then, everything went fuzzy.
He collapsed, clutching his waist.
It felt like three days of nonstop Tinder marathons, only worse.
Granny knelt beside him. "Told you. Drains your energy."
"Granny," he wheezed, "Do you know what energy means?"
She blinked. "Besides that gnawing ache in your kidneys? No other symptoms, right?"
"…No."
"Then it's energy."
Leo whimpered. "We're not using the same dictionary."
"I'm powered by my host. The stronger you are, the more power I can channel. Think of it like a fan: level 1 uses less electricity than level 5. Right now? You're a solid 0.5."
Leo's face turned pale. "I wanna be the five-speed fan."
He remembered Dad's will.
"She's a little demon," it had said.
Now he understood.
And if he'd known what "drains a little energy" actually meant, he would've run for the hills.
Because no man parts with his kidneys lightly.