I have an unlimited number of shikigami

"A horned demon?"

"Yes."

"If evil is likened to a demon, then of course it can be believed."

"What if there were demons with physical forms in reality?"

“In any case, what we’re talking about is just a hypothesis. If we’re going to explore this further, we need concrete examples. Just like a bridge needs piers to support it.” Kasahara Fukaeri said with a serious expression, like a science student, “The deeper the hypothesis goes, the weaker it becomes, and the conclusions we draw become boundless.”

“I feel that Black Lily is a concrete example,” Fujiwara Izaya said.

“You’re probably not suited to be a law enforcement officer!” Kasahara Fukaeri said seriously.

"is it?"

“The law, in short, governs human affairs. In our world, yin is yin, yang is yang, I am me, and that is that. As the saying goes, ‘I am me, and that is that, the autumn sun is setting in the west.’” Kasahara Fukaeri paused for a moment, looking down at her fingertips as if checking nail polish.

The nail polish was a slightly pale pink, applied perfectly. Fujiwara Izaya thought to himself that he must have used his sister's nail polish; if not, he would abstain from sex for a month.

After thinking for a moment, Kasahara Fukari continued, "But you don't belong to this world. You belong to: above it or below it."

"Above or below it?" Fujiwara Izaya asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Go up when you should go up, and go down when you should go down. When it's time to go up, aim for the highest tower and climb to the top; when it's time to go down, find the deepest well and go to the bottom." Kasahara Fukari stared at her fingernails for a moment, then put her hands in her pockets. "I am that, and that is me. How leisurely the spring night is, only by abandoning myself can I exist."

She spoke with an extremely solemn expression.

But Fujiwara Izaya knew she was trying not to laugh.

From her suddenly bright eyes and slightly trembling shoulders, it was clear that she had learned how to say things that sounded reasonable in order to amuse people.

"You've gone astray!" he scolded with a laugh.

"Humph!"

Kasahara Fukaeri's expression was quite aloof.

She sat there beside him, her neck craning like a tall, solitary bird, her gaze calmly fixed on Fujiwara Izaya.

“Let’s go back to Mrs. Tanimura first.” Fujiwara Rinya stood up and walked back to the tea room. “Let’s settle Huang Songyu’s matter first, and then have the two chairmen step in to revive the summer festival. We’ve spent so much money, we can’t let it go to waste…”

"We still need to reassure the public."

"That's your job, Section Nine."

"Just a reminder, Mr. Fujiwara, you are also an agent of Section 9."

"Oh, I almost forgot. So, Captain, how should we cover up the time difference this time?"

"Making a movie."

"How cliché! It's so unoriginal!"

"You want one?"

"...Making movies is great, I love making movies the most."

In the quiet courtyard planted with many low trees, the two walked side by side through the sunlit corridor, talking. Through the open window, they could see a niche and a display shelf in the corner of the tea room. It seemed that tea ceremonies for Buddhist offerings were often held here, as a bright crimson carpet was laid out, and Mrs. Tanimura, kneeling in the tea room, came into view.

"Wait a minute." Fujiwara Izaya suddenly stopped.

Kasahara Fukaeri understood what he meant, bent down slightly, and looked through the window.

A woman in a kimono emerged from the inner room and sat upright facing Mrs. Tanimura. The two remained motionless, sitting opposite each other for a long time.

“It’s that maid,” Fujiwara Izaya said in a low voice.

Kasahara Fukari stared intently, pressing her chest tightly against the window railing: "This maid is a bit strange. I noticed from the beginning that there was no reverence in her eyes when she looked at her master."

"She looks familiar; I feel like I've seen this maid somewhere before."

"You feel like every beautiful woman looks familiar, right?"

"...I'm talking about serious matters!"

Kasahara Fukari put her finger to her lips: "Shh!"

Ok.

The older sister didn't want to hear her brother-in-law's explanation.

Just then, Mrs. Tanimura suddenly rose and went into the inner room, returning after a long while with a teacup in her hand. A gentle breeze fluttered the sleeves of her black mourning dress, creating a poignant and beautiful scene. After returning with the teacup, she prepared a cup of tea according to the tea ceremony, then knelt down in her original spot.

The maid's lips moved slightly, as if she were saying something, and Mrs. Tanimura lowered her head deeply.

The silence felt strangely long and tense... but what happened next was even more unbelievable. Mrs. Tanimura, maintaining her dignified posture, suddenly reached out and loosened her belt.

"呲-"

Fujiwara Izaya's excellent hearing allowed him to even hear the friction sound of the silk ribbon being pulled out from the inside of the belt.

Immediately afterwards, Mrs. Tanimura loosened her collar, revealing her fair chest. She bent over and knelt, placing the teacup into the dark black bowl with one hand.

This scene left both Fujiwara Izaya and Kasahara Mieri stunned.

At that moment, both of them simultaneously conjured up the image of breast milk churning in the bubbling green tea inside a black teacup, the cloudy tea foaming with white bubbles...

The maid picked up the teacup and drank the strange tea in one gulp.

Then, Mrs. Tanimura straightened up, and her chest was concealed.

The afternoon sun shone on her face, making it appear even paler than before. Her skin was almost bloodless, as if all the energy had been drained from her body, and many small wrinkles had appeared on her delicate nose. She glanced wearily at the window, then lowered her head again as if sinking into a murky, bottomless abyss.

Then, the maid left the tea room, brushing past the two stunned people.

Kasahara Fukari shifted her gaze to Fujiwara Izaya. Just as she was about to leave to walk around and process what she had just seen, Fujiwara Izaya stopped her, saying, "Come in with me." She felt a little embarrassed, her cheeks flushing. But she still lowered her head and obediently followed Fujiwara Izaya back into the tea room. After kneeling down, her lowered eyebrows were beautiful.

"Please excuse my poor appearance." Lady Tanimura took out a thick towel and carefully wiped the sweat from her face. Then, as if meditating, she closed her eyes for a while. She lifted the hem of her black mourning clothes, revealing her fair thighs spread out on the scarlet carpet. After a while, she said, "My three-month-old child died with my husband. Otherwise, the swelling and pain would be very uncomfortable."

After she finished speaking, Mrs. Tanimura's face still looked uncomfortable; her mouth trembled unnaturally, and her brows furrowed, disrupting the original harmony and balance of her expression.

Since they dared to do it openly, they weren't afraid of revealing their flaws. Fujiwara Rin didn't dwell on the matter and asked directly, "Is Huang Songyu still there? I need to take it all back, at the price you paid."

"Of course, I haven't used a single gram yet." Madam Tanimura cupped the black teacup in both hands and called out, "Jingxia, please bring the Huang Songyu over."

Soon, the maid came in carrying a wooden box, placed it on the table, and then left.

The wind blew in and the curtains fluttered. Mrs. Tanimura brushed her bangs aside, placed her hand on the box, and said, "A total of 3806 grams, amounting to 4180 million yen."

"I'll transfer the money to you shortly." Fujiwara Izaya reached out to take the wooden box.

"No, I only want cash." Mrs. Tanimura shook her head and refused.

Fujiwara Izaya frowned and remained silent.

Who would carry over 4000 million yuan in cash around if they had nothing better to do?

“Let’s take a look first,” said Kasahara Fukari.

Mrs. Tanimura hesitated for a moment, then opened the wooden box.

The box contained thumb-sized pieces of yellow jade, each radiating a soft, warm luster—undoubtedly yellow pine jade. In addition, there was a green silk bag containing something.

An ominous aura emanated from the silk bag.

Out of professional instinct, Kasahara Fukari pointed to the bag: "What's that?"

Fujiwara Izaya's gaze was also drawn to it.

"It's a talisman," Mrs. Tanimura admitted.

"Did you pray for it at a temple?" Fujiwara Izaya asked.

“No, it’s something passed down in the family, you could say it’s an extension of me,” Mrs. Tanimura explained, a slightly weary smile appearing on her lips. “It’s a rather strange story. But it’s a long story, and it would be too tiring to tell it now.”

Kasahara Fukari stretched out her hand directly: "Let me see."

"Please take good care of her, Miss..." Mrs. Tanimura reluctantly opened the bag and took out the contents.

A mask.

Kasahara Fukari held the mask in her palm, observing it intently. Fujiwara Izaya also looked over.

It was a mask with very feminine features, with lipstick on, and soft, delicate eyes and eyebrows, like an elegant crescent moon, exuding a youthful beauty.

“These are Noh masks,” Mrs. Tanimura explained from the side.

Noh is a traditional Japanese theatrical form that uses traditional Japanese literary works as scripts and is performed with masks, costumes, props, and dance. Fujiwara Izaya had little experience with Noh, so he didn't notice anything wrong with the mask.

"Do you understand?" he asked Kasahara Fukaeri.

“I don’t really understand…” Kasahara Fukae also shook her head. “It’s like the Three Views of Japan. I know they’re in Japan, but I’ve never seen them myself.”

"Don't you have time or what?"

"I wasn't thinking of going."

"I go with you."

"Hmm... eh?"

Kasahara Fukari glared angrily at Fujiwara Izaya, who was constantly flirting with her, then looked down at her mask as if she didn't want to pay him any attention.

“No, that won’t do. When viewing a Noh mask, you have to raise your hands a little higher,” Mrs. Tanimura said from across the room. “You have to raise both hands so that the eyes of the mask are facing down, so that you can truly appreciate its beauty…”

As instructed, Kasahara Fukaeri held up the mask and admired it.

As the mask appeared directly above her, the pale, lifeless skin softened and became hazy in her eyes, as if a warm feeling of human touch arose from the smooth, youthful skin, as if the mask had come to life.

"Wow! It's so realistic."

Kasahara Fukaeri gasped.

"When the eyes of the mask face down, the face is filled with sorrow, and the expression appears melancholy; when the eyes face up, the face is radiant, and the expression appears bright." Mrs. Tanimura seemed to be explaining, yet also tempting, "Let it sway from side to side, which represents the ups and downs of one's emotions. Miss, you can try it."

Kasahara Fukari then lowered the mask below her line of sight.

Bringing my face less than ten centimeters from the mask, I felt as if a living woman was smiling at me. It was a beautiful, pure smile, untouched by any impurity.

"It looks just like a real person," she murmured. "Like a young woman."

“Look closely, it’s a young girl,” Mrs. Tanimura said. “According to the elders in my family, the prototype of this mask is a deity, a symbol of eternal youth.”

Kasahara Fukari was increasingly surprised as she looked at it.

The mask's lines and lips were depicted with lifelike detail, its black, childlike eyes set in sockets, and its red lips appearing plump and moist, making it exceptionally cute and lively. She held her breath, and just as her nose was about to touch the mask, the mask's large, dark eyes suddenly rotated from bottom to top, and its lower lip puffed out, making Kasahara Fukae almost kiss it.

"what!"