The story begins with an eight-foot-tall lady surrounded by ghost story ladies.

The shoji doors of the main house are just a stone's throw away.

Just as Natsume Fanyu was about to step over the threshold.

Suddenly, Rin Jinguji's voice came from behind.

"You...don't need money?"

He stopped and turned around.

Jinguji Rin remained in the position of holding her mother and baby, but her phoenix eyes were staring straight at him.

Her expression was very serious.

So serious was Natsume Fanyu that he suddenly realized that if he said "I don't need it," this yakuza heiress would probably get angry.

Then he smiled.

"Miss Jinguji".

Natsume Fanyu tilted his head.

"Do you really think... someone like me would be short of money?"

Rin Jinguji was stunned.

It's not because of the content of that sentence.

It was because of the tone of his voice when he said that.

That wasn't showing off, it wasn't pretending to be profound, and it wasn't a rhetorical question.

Rather, it was a very pure, heartfelt confusion, bewildered as to why she would have such a question.

It's like a fish wondering why humans add chlorine to water.

It's not the logic of one world.

But before, you were bullied by your landlady because you couldn't pay your rent.

Rin Jinguji didn't say those words aloud.

Because she saw Natsume Fanyu's hand move.

He raised his right hand, and a business card appeared between his index and middle fingers.

It wasn't the one I gave her before.

It's a new one.

Then he flicked it lightly.

The business card spun around like a feather lifted by the wind, drifting precisely towards Jinguji Rin.

Rin Jinguji instinctively reached out and caught it.

Bow down.

My gaze fell on the business card.

Then her breathing stopped for a beat.

The business card read:

【Far East Branch • Top-Tier Exorcist】

[Number: 001]

There are over 3,000 registered exorcists in the 47 prefectures of the Japanese archipelago.

Of those, no more than one hundred were rated as "Level 1".

As for the "Special Grade," this grade does not exist in any official public information.

But Rin Jinguji knew of its existence.

Years ago, her father used all his connections in the Jinguji Group to try to contact a top-tier exorcist to seal the things in the mansion.

The reply I received was only one sentence.

"Top-tier staff do not accept private commissions."

They couldn't even be bothered to make up a reason for refusing.

And at this moment...

The man in front of her was being bullied by his landlady because he couldn't pay his rent.

The business card not only says...

Top-tier exorcist!

The number is the first one...

001!

Rin Jinguji felt increasingly shocked as she thought about it.

When she came to her senses, she looked up.

Natsume Fanyu had already turned around, his back to her, and casually waved his right hand.

That gesture lacked any of the solemnity one would expect when saying goodbye.

There's only one kind of nonchalance that makes people feel a little angry.

as well as...

A kind of composure that is even more infuriating, yet seems to indicate that everything is under his control.

"Miss Jinguji".

His voice finally came from the doorway.

"Being a competent older sister isn't easy."

"If neither you nor your mother can take good care of your sister, then I'll have to take the trouble to do it myself."

"However, when that time comes, it will be a different price."

The voices gradually faded into the distance.

Natsume Fanyu's figure finally disappeared into the sunlight outside the door.

Only Jinguji Rin was left, holding her mother and baby, clutching the business card in her hand.

In her arms, the baby she had named "Little Sister" rolled over, its tiny fingers unconsciously clutching her clothes.

Saliva dripped onto her wrist.

Warm.

It's not the temperature an evil spirit should have.

......

Outside the gate of the mansion.

Natsume Fanyu stood on the stone steps, squinting at the four o'clock afternoon sun.

The sunlight made the entire private road lined with towering cherry trees shine, a stark contrast to the cold and gloomy atmosphere inside the mansion.

The black Lexus remained parked in the driveway.

The driver and bodyguards stood in a row, their expressions solemn as if they were attending a funeral.

When they saw Natsume Fanyu walk out of the mansion, their shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Mr. Natsume." The head bodyguard stepped forward.

"Young Miss, she..."

"It's inside."

Natsume Fanyu tilted his head behind him.

"Her mother was there too, along with her sister."

The bodyguard's expression changed from worry to confusion.

Mother?

The young lady's mother didn't die seven years ago...

There's a younger sister too?

When did the Jinguji family have a second daughter?

He didn't ask.

Because Natsume Fanyu had already opened the car door.

"Take me back to my apartment."

"But Miss..."

"She has her own legs."

The car door closed.

The bodyguard and the driver exchanged a glance.

Then the driver got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

The black sedan slowly drove away from the Jinguji family mansion, leaving the old mansion covered with talismans behind.

inside the car.

Natsume Fanyu leaned back in the back seat with his eyes closed.

"Okusan".

He spoke in his mind.

"Um?"

"From now on, you won't have to secretly wear my shirts anymore."

silence.

Then the voice carried a barely audible hint of panic, as if its most secret fetish had been exposed.

"I...I didn't."

"That white shirt from last week, that black shirt, and that one..."

Natsume Fanyu's tone was calm and even, but each word seemed to be slowly peeling away something.

"You said you didn't?"

A longer silence.

then.

"Those shirts smell like you."

The voice was so soft it sounded like an apology, yet it carried a righteous greed.

Like someone who has eaten the forbidden fruit, with traces still on their lips, yet saying, "I was just hungry."

Natsume Fanyu opened his eyes.

He remembered the last time he opened the walk-in closet door, there was that neatly folded dark gray shirt...

Two rounded bulges were stretched out at the chest area, and the fabric fibers in that small area were stretched to almost transparent, allowing light to pass through faintly.

The gaps between the buttons were stretched into diamond-shaped holes, as if something so full it had nowhere to go had been forcibly stuffed into that narrow space.

He had never asked before, but now he suddenly wanted to know.

"Is it only shirts that have my signature feel, or... do you actually want to wear more than just shirts?"

Outside the window, the rearview mirror reflected only Natsume Fanyu in the back seat.

But if someone can see spirits...

They will see a white figure nearly three meters tall, just like a big cat that has finally found its den.

She carefully curled her voluptuous, almost sinful body into his arms.

The eight-foot-tall lady rested her head on his lap, and the white mourning clothes she was wearing had somehow turned into his white shirt.

The shirt was stretched taut and out of shape on her.

Two buttons on her collar popped off, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin and a deep, unfathomable cleavage.

The shoulder line should have been at the acromion, but now it was pushed down to the middle of her upper arm by her upper arm.

The fabric on the entire back was stretched taut like a drum, every fiber groaning as if it were about to reach its limit.

Her waist was so voluptuous that the hem of her shirt couldn't be buttoned up at all; it could only be draped around her waist, with the soft curves of her waist showing through the openings on both sides.

The hem of her shirt barely covered the top of her thighs.

Even an inch more wouldn't cover it all.

And in those usually aloof eyes, his image was now reflected.

And some kind of...

A longing that had never been revealed to anyone.