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Chronicles of the Otherworld Investigator

In the bustling metropolis of Busan, Nathan McNeill, a cocky and blonde Otherworld Investigator, is renowned for his unparalleled prowess in combating ghosts and spirits. With his steadfast partner, Mars, a no-nonsense feline with a mysterious past, Nathan navigates the supernatural underbelly of the city with confidence and arrogance. When a series of inexplicable hauntings plague the city, Nathan and Mars are thrust into their most challenging case yet. As they delve deeper into the sinister forces at play, Nathan's overconfidence is put to the test, forcing him to confront his own vulnerabilities and limitations. As the lines between the living and the dead blur, Nathan McNeill must confront the ultimate truth: in a world where the supernatural reigns supreme, even the strongest of egos can be shattered by the darkness that lurks in the shadows.

Wicked_AnimeGirl · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
63 Chs

FILE 12: AUCTION OF HWANDUDAEDO AND DURUMAGI PART 1

Mars has returned. I knew he had it the moment I parked my motorcycle. I returned from a case, and my SENSE was still initiated. I wanted to know what it felt like to ride with enhanced senses. All I could say, it felt weird.

But it was only right that I punished him for being missing for three months. So I ignored his presence when I came in. It was so funny the way he reacted. Naturally, my declaration is also part of the punishment. He must learn his lesson properly.

"A handsome competition? It's the first time I heard of it. It sounds ridiculous to me," Mars scoffed.

"It's not. We'll find out who's more perfect. You better not get cold feet because mom and her friends will be the judges. Or are you running away?" I sneered as I flicked my ponytail. His tail twitched in irritation.

"Fine. You're on. Let's make a bet. If I win the competition, you'll go to a therapist to fix your arrogance." Argh. That's harsh.

"And if I win, you'd have to stop nagging me all the time and start being obedient." Mars winced.

"I guess we have a bet." He held out a paw. I grinned and smacked it. It's on, cat! I whipped out my phone and messaged some friends.

"What are you doing?" Mars asked curiously. 

"I've kept in touch with some former clients. I'm just texting them something, that's all."

"I hope it's not confidential information." Nah, just giving them information on our match. 

***On August 3rd, look forward to me and a friend of mine bashing heads on who's more handsome. Will send a video of our match. Wish me good luck. Blows a kiss.***

Satisfied, I sent the text. I worked hard without Mars for the last few months. I suffered constant jabbering from a cloud. Of all places, I got scratches on my face. I was scared stiff (maybe not), but I could have been scared.

But all I got was a thank you from the police and the prosecutor. Does a thank-you help me buy things? No. 

Thankfully, the surrounding spirits were more grateful. Throughout the centuries, Aoibheann forced everyone to remain silent about her activities. If anyone snitched on her, they were devoured.

So when they heard she was killed, they swarmed me the moment it was safe.

I am sitting depressed at home. I felt exhausted after returning from an interrogation. Worse, I got news that I wasn't being paid. And I planned to add the money to my motorcycle savings.

To soothe myself, I played with my hair, and tried on new outfits before sending pictures to friends and family, asking for their opinion. Now that Mars has disappeared, I randomly asked someone.

Dad told me to shut up and be serious. Mom gave me acceptable advice. 

I ignored Min's opinion. My life was completely messed up by her. Eventually, I decided to wear black and blue instead of a black suit every day. After I sent the picture, I got a lot of love.

My fashion sense has gotten even better with age, it seems. So while I tried new long hairstyles, a wind gust suddenly flung open my windows. I sensed that it was no ordinary wind, so I initiated my skill. I nearly had a heart attack. My house was filled to the brim with spirits.

[Sir. Thank you for saving us and avenging our loved ones,] a young child spirit said. From all shapes and sizes, they all bowed gratefully. Oh yeah, it feels good. "Please don't bow. It's my moral obligation. I did what I had to do. Please," I pleaded with a smile.

[What a fine, modest fellow. We were right in coming here,] a tiny midget whispered.

[Handsome too. A shame he's human,] a dryad-like ghost said coyly.

Keep the compliments coming. I enjoyed myself immensely when, to my displeasure, a voice broke the atmosphere. [Enough talking. We didn't come here to butter him up.] A scowling owl spirit flew forward.

[Listen up, Otherworld Investigator. We came to thank you, and we have something we wish to give you. So follow me. Although that's up to you, of course,] he snapped.

"Yes sir. Lead the way," I answered, startled. Everyone stayed behind as I accompanied the owl. He led me to a wooded area near the Chos previous home.

The owl kept yelling at me to keep up, but come on, I can't fly. I was taken into a deep part of the woods by him. I sincerely hope I won't end up like the teenagers in The Blair Witch Project. Heh, heh.

"So, what is it that you want to give me? Not a pot of gold, is it?" I joked. The owl, however, wasn't amused. [Did you lose your brain halfway? There's no such thing as a pot of gold,] he ridiculed.

[Keep up. We're almost there.] Bird can't take a joke or two?

"How much further? My feet hurt. I don't have proper hiking boots, you know," I complained. 

[What a child!] he scorned. Oh, this better be worth it. I was just about to turn around when we came to a large tree. The bird landed on a branch and pointed its beak down. [Look inside. Our gift to you is there.]

Curiously, I peeked inside the tree trunk. I gasped. There, covered in leaves and vines, was an ancient suit of armour and a longsword. I heard that, depending on authenticity, you could get a lot of money for armour and swords. I shouted joyfully internally.

 "Thank you. I am eternally grateful for your gift," I said politely. The owl huffed as he waited. The armour wasn't that heavy, but I had difficulty removing it. I gently laid it down on the ground and phoned for help.

Some antique swords were sold for over $7 million at an auction house in the 2000s.

Armour are worth less and were sold at most for only $1500 to $2000.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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