Chapter 82: Values Following Appearance

Fang Cheng and Kanzaki Rin turned to stare at Sato Hayato. Their questioning gazes made him shrink back, but the girl on the floor began weeping, her teary eyes pleading.

This gave Sato Hayato some courage. He gulped and whispered, “Fang Cheng, she looks hurt. Can we help her?”

He’d wisely avoided asking to spare her outright. Even if refused, this approach wouldn’t anger the others. To him, though not human, she was a victim like himself—she didn’t deserve more suffering.

Fang Cheng showed no reaction, but Kanzaki Rin’s face hardened. She hated this Azazil-type males—spineless in daily life, useless in crises. Yet at critical moments, they’d suddenly grow a savior complex over crying women, acting like sole champions of femininity.

Compared to them, Fang Cheng—though crude and perverted—proved reliable. He’d never go easy on enemies because of their gender. No matter how pretty, he’d punch without hesitation. Tears? Forgiveness? Not his style.

This was why Kanzaki Rin tolerated Fang Cheng’s vulgar jokes but despised Sato Hayato’s misplaced kindness.

“Help her? Sure.”

Fang Cheng grinned, stepping toward the girl. She gazed up with desperate hope—until he yanked out an ugly-looking vajra and stabbed it through her chest.

“AAAH!”

Her translucent body shattered into smoke. A gray residue remained on the floor. When Fang Cheng touched it, warmth surged through his fingers.

Two messages flashed:

[Energy absorption active…]

[Undead vision +1]

No Life Fragment this time—dead things couldn’t offer Life Force. He’d also learned how to loot enemies without a corpse. He’d assumed he could check other parts of her body while she was still fresh—disappointing.jpg.

Compared to this lingering spirit, that evil god projection earlier must’ve retreated, not died. Hence no Items dropped.

“F-Fang Cheng! Why?!”

Sato Hayato gaped, stunned. He’d asked for help, not murder.

Fang Cheng pocketed the vajra. “You wanted her pain ended. Mission accomplished.”

“That’s NOT what I meant!”

“Otherwise?”

Fang Cheng shot back, “Should we rescue her to your house, hide her in your bedroom, develop some cheesy romance, then slowly fall in love and get a ghost girlfriend? You’ve read too many comics, Sato. If you take her home, she’ll murder your whole family that same night. Believe it?”

Sweat dripped down Sato Hayato’s neck as he shook his head frantically. “N-no! I never thought that!”

The guilt in his voice couldn’t fool anyone. Truth was, when the lingering spirit girl pleaded for help, Sato had absolutely imagined that exact comic-book scenario.

“Really?” Fang Cheng smirked. “Then why didn’t stop me from killing that cultist earlier?”

Sato stammered, “He… didn’t ask for help!”

“What if he had? Would you’ve helped?”

“……”

*Maybe if he wore a dress*, Sato briefly considered before recoiling. More likely, he’d have kicked the creep himself.

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Fang Cheng snorted at his silence. “Damn, Sato! You’re the type who’d ditch morals for a pretty face?”

“That’s not true!” Sato protested under Fang Cheng’s mocking grin and Kanzaki Rin’s icy glare. “She’s different! She’s a victim!”

Fang Cheng snapped his fingers. “Secretary Kanzaki! Educate this clueless kid.”

“I’m not your secretary.” Kanzaki glared before turning to Sato. “We’re here to eliminate that spirit. She’s killed six innocents—two under fourteen. Still think she’s harmless?”

Though the lingering spirit seemed passive, entering her domain meant death. Landlord’s clues showed six victims over years, driving tenants to flee when she wandered downstairs.

“N-no way…” Sato crumpled to the dusty floor, horrified. Bringing her home could’ve doomed his family.

Fang Cheng almost pitied the kid’s naivety—rare in this harsh world. Probably coddled by his parents. In manga, Sato’d be prime protagonist material: orphaned, power awakened, little sister waiting, harem antics ensuing. But reality? Better off hanging himself to reach that 2D fantasy.

No interest in counseling boys through existential crises—girls might lead to “bedroom philosophy,” but guys? Hard pass.

As the spirit vanished, the top floor decayed—lights dying, walls peeling, dust rising. Blocked windows plunged the room into gloom until Kanzaki’s flashlight clicked on, revealing Sato clinging to Fang Cheng’s leg.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!” he wailed, having just touched a skull—the spirit’s corpse, now exposed.

Battle done, cleanup remained. Kanzaki tossed Fang Cheng her keys, ignoring his shock. “Take my car.”

“You’re not hoarding credit?”

She massaged her temples. “Cult involvement complicates things.”

Cults weren’t just murder clubs—they risked summoning actual evil gods. Scholars theorized these “gods” were sub-space entities, cult rituals accidentally tearing reality’s fabric. No proof yet, but the threat stayed real. A summoned deity meant catastrophe—tsunami-level disaster. Tonight’s mess required backup.