After undoing his transformation, Doutang explained everything to the two girls who now knew
his secret — from the Fall Guy form to the newly acquired "Wolf Head Set."
When he finished, Lu Zizhen's eyes were shining like she'd just found a new toy.
"So that means you can actually split yourself now, right? Come on, show me your so-called
clone!"
Doutang frowned. "Each Fall Bean can only be used for that skill three times. Isn't it a waste to
test it here?"
Zizhen shrugged, cross-legged on the floor, one arm wrapped casually around Huaiyin's
shoulders as if she were her kid sister. "You've gotta know your own limits. Don't tell me you're
scared to see what you can do?"
Huaiyin ducked her head shyly, but didn't pull away from her.
In the end, Doutang gave in.
He pulled a pink Fall Bean from his pocket — one born from a vengeful spirit that haunted a
mountain tunnel. That night, he and Zizhen had chased it down on their bikes, riding straight
into the dark until the ghost appeared.
It had been the spirit of a bullied girl who'd taken her own life. Doutang had purified her
resentment, forged her spirit into this candy-colored bean, and sent her to the Fall Guys World
— where she could play, laugh, and forget… until she finally faded away.
He thought grimly: Collecting souls, cleansing hatred… I'm basically running a hell made of
milkshake and trampolines.
The thought unsettled him more than he liked to admit.
He took a breath and tossed the bean onto the floor.
It swelled, spun, and inflated into a perfect copy of the pink Fall Guy.
"Whoa!" Zizhen gasped dramatically, clapping her hands.
Huaiyin blinked wide-eyed. "It's like… having two big brothers."
Doutang focused his thoughts, and the clone obeyed instantly.
The pink figure spun on its stubby legs, raised a hand, mimed a salute — smooth, precise,
responsive.
Unlike him, it didn't need warm-ups or warm blood.
Not bad, he thought.
"Hey, Doutang," Zizhen said, grinning like a cat. "Stand next to it. I wanna compare."
She'd never used honorifics with him — hadn't since the night they met on that first ghost hunt.
He stood beside his double. Same height — one meter eighty-four — but where Doutang was
lean, the Fall Guy clone was built like a tank, broad-limbed and cartoonishly massive.
"Perfect," Zizhen said, eyes glinting. "So if I take one of your beans, I can send it out to film
while you stay home?"
He nodded. "That's the plan. Each clone has around forty percent of my power — more than
enough for weaker spirits. I'm thinking of giving one to each of you for protection."
Then he glanced at the clock and sighed. "It's already noon. None of us slept last night. Let's
rest."
"Zizhen, you—"
"I'm crashing here!" she interrupted cheerfully before he could finish.
"Sofa's fine for me!" she added with a grin that didn't reach her tired eyes.
This woman… impossible to predict.
"Do you think normal girls spend the night at a guy's place?" Doutang muttered as the clone
deflated back into a bean.
"I'm not a normal girl," she said, stretching.
She flopped onto the couch, long legs kicking up as the slits in her pants slid wide open — a
glimpse of pale skin flashing in the dim light.
By any normal standard, the sight would've been suggestive.
But somehow, with her, it wasn't.
It was just… Lu Zizhen.
Doutang shook his head and let it go.
After a quick meal from the convenience store, Huaiyin curled up in bed, and Doutang laid out
his futon. This time, they slept separately — two small beds placed apart.
They changed into sleepwear, drew the curtains, and the "night" of the Kiryu household began
— at ten in the morning.
Doutang slipped under the blanket, just closing his eyes when a small, trembling hand crept into
his.
Huaiyin's hand.
He sighed quietly, tightening his grip. She twitched, then scratched his palm lightly — her way of
saying thank you — before settling down again.
She understood.
It wasn't right to cling to him, not with someone else in the room.
But this was all she had left.
Twisted, he thought. All of this is so twisted.
Half an hour later, her breathing slowed, steady. Doutang opened his eyes.
And met another pair staring back.
Lu Zizhen.
She lay on the couch, her transparent-sleeved jacket tossed aside, wrapped in a blanket. Her
eyes glimmered faintly in the dark.
He had no idea how long she'd been watching him.
When their gazes met, she smiled — but didn't look away.
"Why aren't you asleep?" he whispered.
"I've got a secret to tell you."
Her voice was soft, but there was a mischievous lilt in it. She leaned forward, her face
half-veiled by shadow, eyes bright as stars. Doutang remembered seeing that same look before
— in a cursed shrine, through the glow of her camera lens.
Always watching. Always recording.
"What secret?" he asked quietly.
"I'm actually a Taoist priestess."
She smiled, reaching out a hand toward him.
He hesitated, then took it. Her fingers were warm — trembling slightly.
"Just like that sporty girl from the school. I could tell she was an exorcist the moment I saw her.
I'm one too."
For a moment, they just stayed like that — one of his hands clasped in hers, the other still
holding Huaiyin's.
It was absurdly intimate, almost tender.
Zizhen's confident tone faltered. "I'm… not great at saying serious things."
Her shoulders shrank a little, her palm slick with nervous sweat.
"Nervous?" Doutang asked softly.
"Why tell me now? You don't exactly look the priestess type — unless the gods started blessing
streetwear brands."
That earned a soft laugh from her.
And for a heartbeat, the air changed — fragile, human, almost warm.
Their fingers brushed again, fingertips meeting. The faint friction of skin against skin sent an
unexpected current through him.
"I just wanted to say," she murmured, "if you ever need to rest, I can take care of Huaiyin for
you. Don't underestimate me, okay? Even a high-class spirit wouldn't scare me off."
"…"
Doutang looked away, flustered, and cleared his throat. "Get some sleep. I'm exhausted."
Zizhen blinked, then sighed. She turned her back, fingers dragging softly along the couch fabric
— scritch, scritch — a quiet protest.
"…Fine," she whispered.
Her voice faded into the dark. The faint glow in her eyes dimmed and vanished.
Twisted, Doutang thought again.
And as silence settled over the room, the truth was plain:
There wasn't a single normal person in this house.
Not the man built like a cartoon demon.
Not the girl who attracted the dead.
Not the priestess who filmed them both.
In the end, the people inside this apartment—
were far stranger, far more unnatural,
than any spirit outside it.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge