"So," Eathan began slowly, "why exactly did you two walk in like you owned the place?"
Sera took a hesitant sip, glancing at Emily for support. "Well, we technically do. Temporarily.”
“Your boss—Taeril White—he called us about a week after we got back from Shanghai.” Emily nodded. “Asked if we could cover some shifts temporarily. Said you specifically recommended us."
Eathan blinked, heart jolting at the words. He’d done no such thing. But he masked his shock with a casual shrug. "Right, right. Sorry, it slipped my mind."
Chewie gave him a sideways glance, mouth twitching slightly, but said nothing.
Sera peered at him. "Honestly, the offer seemed weirdly generous. Mister White described it as just an 'easy-paid corner shop job.' Didn't mention anything unusual."
"Except the whole ‘Realm-Barrier Games’,” Emily said. “What even is that?"
Eathan cleared his throat. His eyes shifted to Chewie, who suddenly seemed deeply engrossed in studying the nutritional label on her drink.
"It’s just… an internal company training event," he said. "Nothing exciting."
"You okay, Eathan?" Emily frowned. “Something feels off."
Eathan paused. Under her intent gaze, he waved her off with a smile. "It’s fine," he said. "Just tired. Internship stuff."
Yet despite his attempt at reassurance, Emily leaned forward, bangs brushing past her narrowed eyes. "Seriously, did your internship boss scam you or something? Because I swear, that Taeril White always seemed harmless, but I had suspicions—"
"No, it’s not that," Eathan cut in, feeling his heart clench involuntarily at Taeril’s name. "Mister White’s fine. He’s… always been good to me."
“Honestly,’ Chewie muttered flatly from her stool, still scribbling equations, "a scam might’ve been easier."
Eathan scratched his cheek. The two girls exchanged uncertain looks, sensing something unspoken beneath the chilly air.
Emily leaned back slightly. "Okay, but are you coming back permanently now? To Westpoint and everything?"
At that, Eathan’s fingers tightening around his drink. The question hung in the small room. Memories of his life at Westpoint, simpler days blurred by current trauma, flickered in his mind.
"I—I haven’t decided," he admitted. "Things are complicated right now."
Sera watched him silently. Emily sighed, sensing his reluctance and dropping the topic.
"Look, whatever it is," she said, "you can tell us. We’re your friends."
"Thanks, Emily. Really.” Eathan mustered a smile. “It’s just—this is something I need to figure out myself first."
Emily nodded. A short silence filled the room again, broken finally by Chewie flipping her notebook closed.
"Enough angst," she said. "Did Mister White mention exactly how long he expected you two to manage the store?"
Emily shook her head, exchanging another confused look with Sera. "Not really. He just said it was temporary, until Eathan and everyone returned."
Eathan’s mind turned. Taeril had clearly planned further ahead than he realised, yet the motive behind it remained frustratingly opaque. He rubbed his temples.
"Well," he sighed, "it looks like we’re all in this mess together now."
Sera offered a small, wry smile. "Then I guess we keep things running here until he’s back, right?"
Eathan met her gaze, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. "Yeah. Exactly."
After another round of strained small talk, Emily finally pushed back from the table with an apologetic smile. "We should probably head out. Luke’s been bugging us nonstop since you left, Eathan. Next time, we’ll drag him along to annoy you personally."
"Seriously.” Sera rolled her eyes. “I think he’s worried you’ve run off to join a cult."
Eathan managed a thin chuckle. "I’ll look forward to seeing him again. It’s been... a while."
The four exchanged goodbyes, Emily and Sera stepping out into the bustling New York evening, leaving a heavy quiet behind in COZMART.
When the door chimed shut behind them, Eathan moved once more, pulling two instant ramen cups from the shelf. Chewie watched silently from her stool, swinging her legs.
Soon, both of them stood in the small kitchenette at the back, silently stirring steaming noodles. The fragrant broth offered little comfort, the shop’s stillness amplifying every hum of the fluorescent lights and distant city murmurs.
Chewie blew on her ramen. "Emily and Sera handled things pretty well here."
“Yeah.” Eathan nodded distractedly, stirring his noodles. "Didn’t expect Mister White to set this up in advance as well."
"Sounds like him. Always five steps ahead."
Their conversation trailed off again, the silence heavier than before. Eathan’s wristpad vibrated intermittently, Team 001’s group chat notifications offering only bleak humour and mechanical updates.
[NOTFINN]: Patrol routes optimized for maximum existential dread. Anyone want a copy?
[WILLOW]: Please stop.
Chewie whipped out her holopad, punching on the screen with her fingers:
[CHEWSQUICC]: Anything from Paladins?
[NOTFINN]: Silence, if that counts. They probably forgot we exist.
Eathan stared at the chat, closing it with a muted sigh. "We’re all going through the motions," he grumbled, more to himself than Chewie.
"Better than nothing," she grumbled back. She finished eating first, sliding off her stool and gathering the trash. "I’ll handle this."
Eathan waved absentmindedly, turning his attention inward as she slipped out the back. Alone now, he gathered his focus, accessing his [SYSTEM] to distract himself from lingering anxieties.
The familiar golden interface bloomed before him, his accumulated Qi Tokens displayed like an open treasure box. Eathan paused. Within seconds, he'd sculpted a mental flowchart of possible options in his brain, a habit ingrained by months of near-constant crisis.
He agreed with what Li Wei and Chewie said back on the plane, regarding the need to keep his [Humanity] stable. From everything he’d experienced, it was needless to say that control over himself, over his emotions, was something he needed to ensure his decisions were still rational—still himself.
Back in the Commander’s Nightmare, he’d lost hold of himself temporarily upon activating [Auspice Ignition]. That sense of distance from reality wasn’t something he wanted to experience again. And he needed the power to prevent that loss of control from reoccurring—beginning with his overall stats.
With these considerations in mind, Eathan executed his decisions:
700 Qi Tokens have been subtracted from your [PROFILE] (1181 → 481)
[Primary Stats] have been updated!
[Strength]: Lv. 38 → Lv. 43
[Agility]: Lv. 70 → Lv. 73
[Intelligence]: Lv. 65 → Lv. 69
A rush of energy coursed through him instantly, digits rising as the [SYSTEM] acknowledged his growth:
Host [Level]: 55 → 60
Eathan exhaled, noting the increase with cautious satisfaction. He did also notice, however, that it was getting gradually harder to level up now that he’d extended past Level 50. His [Calamity Radar] pulsed next, warmth radiating as the [SYSTEM] interface flickered again before his eyes:
Passive Skill [Calamity Radar] has been upgraded! (β → ω)
Category: Passive/Active Hybrid | Radius: 50m → 100m
Deep-Scan Mode: Manual Activation Available (30 Qi Tokens/use, Cooldown: 1hr)
[Humanity] has decreased by 1% (51% → 50%)
The colourful interface flooded his vision. A more detailed description spread out below the initial notification, filling the interface:
Eathan’s eyes widened, feeling the weight of this new clarity settle around him. He instinctively turned toward the countertop where Taeril always sat, a smile forming on his lips.
"Mister White—one of my skills finally upgraded—!"
But he spoke only to empty air.
The stool stared back, and his fleeting excitement evaporated instantly. Chewie swung back inside just then, tossing an empty ramen cup into the bin. Her eyes flicked toward him, registering the subdued mood shift.
"What?" she asked, climbing back onto her stool and flipping open her calculus notebook.
Eathan shook himself out of the daze, managing a shrug. "[Calamity Radar] just upgraded.”
Chewie nodded, her voice deadpan, "Yay."
He stared at her. "You really don’t have to try that hard."
"Someone’s got to be your emotional cheerleader." She scribbled something into her notes. “So? What exactly changed?”
Eathan refocused, mentally navigating the upgraded interface. "Radius doubled, threat assessment now comes colour-coded with labels—green means chill, red means run, basically. It even detects hidden pocket realms and disguised runes." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "And apparently, there’s a 'deep-scan mode' now, but it’ll cost me Qi Tokens to use.”
Chewie’s eyebrows rose slightly. "Fancy. Maybe next time we won’t walk headfirst into a trap."
"That's the dream," he replied drily. "Though, feels a bit pointless without Mister White here to see it."
Chewie clicked her tongue, pencil hovering above the page. "He’d probably just say something annoying like 'About time,' anyway."
Eathan chuckled, not processing how it came out as closer to rueful than glee. "Sounds about right."
***
Night fell. Streetlights flickered to life outside, and the neighbourhood quieted into their evening routines.
Eathan leaned against the COZMART counter, absently tapping through the detailed new interfaces of [Calamity Radar]. A faint golden overlay pulsed around him, mapping out the mundane space of the corner shop in reassuring greens.
"At least now I'll see trouble coming," he muttered, half to himself.
Chewie glanced up from her holopad, unimpressed. "It’d be more useful if it kept trouble from showing up at all."
Before Eathan could retort, the radar suddenly flashed—yellow light flaring at the edge of his HUD. He straightened abruptly, spine rigid.
Chewie caught his sudden movement. "What?"
"Something’s coming." He peered toward the shop entrance, heart speeding as new lines of yellow emerged, bleeding darker into his vision.
Chewie slid from her stool, stepping to stand by his side. "Not exactly the usual ‘late-night snack’ crowd, huh.”
The shop bell chimed just then, cutting through the silence like a knife. Both turned instinctively, eyes locked on the newcomer.
A man now stood at the doorway. After looking left and right, he stumbled inside, movements unnatural and limbs jerking. His shoes left a faint, eerie streak of crimson across the floorboards with each step he took.
Eathan tensed, readying his [Receipt Printer] at his side. His heart hammered against his ribs, finger hovering mere inches above a bottle of Siracha.
The man looked straight into his eyes.
"Welcome to COZMART—" Eathan spoke on reflex, then grimaced inwardly.
Silence.
Then, a response.
"Ah, welcome!" echoed the greeting back, bright and courteous.
Except—the sound bizarrely emanated from the man's left ear rather than his mouth.
Eathan blinked. Chewie's hand froze, halfway through drawing a talisman herself. They exchanged glances, confusion overtaking the initial dread.
"Did his ear just talk?" Chewie asked.
Before either could react further, something slimy and vaguely gelatinous oozed from the customer’s ear canal. It dropped onto the ground with a sticky plop before solidifying into a squat miniature figure that perched on his shoulder.
The tiny, ogre-like creature straightened, blinking large round eyes up at them with a sheepish wave.
"I’m terribly sorry for startling you! My name is Erzhong Ren," the miniature ogre began, voice unexpectedly timid. "I’ve never visited such a nice divine shop before.”
Eathan’s mouth fell open. Chewie slowly withdrew her talisman hand. Her voice, when it emerged, was entirely devoid of emotion.
"Well, that’s definitely new.”
Giving himself a mental slap in the face, Eathan cleared his throat. "Sorry, um, mister—but what exactly is going on here?”
"Oh, yes.” Erzhong Ren shifted on his heels, adjusting the human’s head to face forward. "Well, this particular mortal shell was tragically disposed of by his girlfriend up in the Catskill mountains. His soul departed for the Realm of Passing, but the body was still good, so I…moved in temporarily."
Eathan blinked, wondering briefly if he was hallucinating. "Borrowed? Like… possessing a corpse?"
The ogre nodded earnestly. "It’s more common than you think. Perfectly sanitary, I assure you."
"And the girlfriend?” Chewie asked.
Erzhong Ren shook his head. "Terribly vengeful woman. Highly unpleasant.”
Eathan’s eyebrow twitched.
"And you came here because…?"
"Well…” the ogre fidgeted, glancing around the ragged corner shop. “Honestly—I never dared enter COZMART before. Heard about it online a lot, but the aura used to be… intimidating. Terrifying, actually. But lately it changed—now it feels welcoming. Almost like a sanctuary."
“Right. Sanctuary… “ Eathan nodded, eyes skimming around the pristine shelves. "Feel free to browse.”
As the ogre-spirit shuffled away, humming a strangely polite tune, a chilling realisation crawled through Eathan’s gut.
In all his time at COZMART, he'd never once encountered a scenario remotely as bizarre as this. Taeril’s casual but undeniable presence must have always deterred minor supernatural entities, shielding the store from more… unusual customers.
But with the White Tiger now absent, Eathan realised, there was no longer an intimidating aura to guard the premises. He swallowed, recalling COZMART’s cult-like reputation on RealmNet, frequented by supernatural enthusiasts and spirit vloggers trying to get their hands on the location. If word spread widely about its “spiritual renovation”…
He exchanged another look with Chewie, who sighed deeply.
"I think I understand now why Mister White was so particular about keeping the shop open,” he said.
Chewie pulled her own hair. "Just perfect."
Erzhong Ren looked between them nervously. "Um—should I go?"
"No, you’re already here.” Eathan sighed, eyeing the goo-filled floor tiles. “Just… clean your footprints before you leave."
The miniature ogre brightened. "But of course."
Eathan stared at the ogre, now carefully juggling snack packs. His upgraded [Calamity Radar] flashed again, now reassuringly green.
"Well," Chewie said, voice perfectly flat, "looks like we’ll need to brace ourselves. Seems we’ve become an overnight supernatural attraction."
"Brace ourselves," Eathan echoed. He groaned inwardly.
"Just another ordinary shift at COZMART."