Antique Shop Zero: Disfigured School Beauty Becomes a Succubus to Pay Off Debts

Inside the warehouse, the lights were dim, like flickering candlelight.

Yang Xiao was roughly thrown inside by two burly men, his back hitting the cold cement floor with a dull thud.

The door wasn't closed, and the two people were blocking the entrance.

They stood on either side of him, arms crossed, looking at him with wicked grins that carried an unsettling, scrutinizing quality.

Yang Xiao sat up and silently tightened his collar.

For some reason, wherever he went, there were perverts lusting after his body.

Can't these people see the fine stitches around his neck?

Could it be that these perverts are using this terrifying thing as a tattoo for flirting?

A burly man stretched out his hand:

"Take it out, we've all seen it, you're rich, kid."

Another burly man added coldly:

"Give us the money and we'll let you go."

Behave yourself, or when Andy comes, he'll skin you alive.

Yang Xiao blinked:

"Aren't you afraid I'll call the police?"

The two burly men were stunned for a moment, then exchanged a glance.

Then they laughed.

They laughed so hard they were doubled over, and tears were almost streaming down their faces, as if they had heard the funniest joke of the century.

A burly man, having finished laughing, shook his head and said:

"This is Philippine City, bro!"

Yang Xiao scratched his head.

The situation here is really complicated.

Then you should learn more about it.

One of the burly men suddenly stopped laughing.

His gaze fell on the ground, fixed intently on it.

At first, I was puzzled, and my brows furrowed into a knot.

Then, that doubt gradually turned into fear.

He saw many unfamiliar shadows appear on the ground.

They dragged their companion's shadow along with them toward the Asian boy.

Meanwhile, the shadow of his companion was struggling and twisting in agony, like a mudfish whose tail had been stepped on.

My companion was still talking to that kid!

"No...something's not right..."

The burly man's lips trembled as he patted his companion's shoulder, reminding him:

"Look at you."

The two of them looked down at the same time, then looked up at the man sitting on the ground.

Yang Xiao sat on the ground, a sinister and eerie smile playing on his lips.

Actually, he felt that the two men were like old hands in the underworld, and that he had followed them here just to find a secluded place to take advantage of their shadows.

"You devil—"

"Help!"

Two screams rang out simultaneously.

Yang Xiao frowned, as if annoyed by their noise.

He flicked his finger lightly, as if flicking away a speck of dust.

The screams abruptly stopped.

The two burly men's eyes widened, their pupils darting wildly downwards as they desperately tried to look at their mouths.

The mouth was still there, but the lips had been sewn shut tightly with black silk thread.

They made "mmm" sounds, like two ducks being choked.

.....

American flag country, Philadelphia.

An office building with a cross symbol stands in the night.

This is the Ghost Inspection Bureau—the main department established by the United States to handle unusual events.

In the Xia Kingdom, it would be called the Bureau of Abnormalities.

The sound of sirens pierced the night sky.

A bureau chief with a large belly rushed out of the duty room and into the conference room, which was already full of prosecutors.

The bureau chief glared at them, his voice tinged with impatience:

"What are you standing there for? Get the police out of here!"

Target—Baroque Bar, a ghost has been resurrected!

A prosecutor raised his hand with a helpless expression:

"Chief, dispatching officers and sealing off the scene is no problem, but it's nighttime now."

The bureau chief paused for a moment, then sat down in his chair dejectedly.

"Yes...it's already evening."

The meeting room fell silent.

It seems that "responding to unusual incidents at night" is a very taboo topic.

The bureau chief finally made up his mind and slammed his fist on the table:

"If too many people die, I'll definitely get yelled at tomorrow!"

"Okay, let's add more money, a lot more money, and beg the gentlemen of the Dark Council to intervene!"

In this country, handling unusual incidents has never been primarily the responsibility of the Ghost Bureau.

They were just assistants; the ones who actually got things done were the incredibly powerful guys in the Dark Council.

As for why there's an extra charge for nighttime?

Because the officials of the Dark Council need to rest at night and are unwilling to take action—this is considered overtime work.

The magistrates of the Dark Council don't care how many people have died.

They make so much money if one person dies, they still make the same amount of money if a hundred people die.

Why should they work overtime?

Social panic?

That's not something the Dark Council should worry about; that falls under the purview of the Ghost Inspection Bureau.

A middle-aged prosecutor spoke hesitantly:

"Add more money? That's a huge sum..."

The bureau chief glared at him:

"Foolish! The wool comes from the sheep's back!"

The middle-aged prosecutor suddenly realized what was happening and immediately got up to go out and contact the Dark Council.

The bureau chief took a deep breath, his fat face tightening for a moment:

"Let's go!"

Using golems to seal off the scene and prevent the ghosts from escaping would be a serious dereliction of duty!

You don't want your bonuses to be docked, do you?

.....

Early morning, Baroque Bar.

It was almost closing time, and there were fewer and fewer customers in the bar.

The bartender, who had been tricked by Yang Xiao earlier, quickly ran into the restroom.

He urinated into the urinal, shivered comfortably, then pulled up his pants, whistled, and walked to the sink.

"Damn Chinese."

He turned on the tap and watched the water flow over his fingers:

"How dare he play me? He'll be sorry!"

The thought of that Xia man being very rich made him unable to stop smiling.

If only I could get my hands on that stack of hundred-yuan bills…

Get rich!

The bartender spruced up his hair in front of the mirror with a showy air, looked left and right, nodded in satisfaction, and turned to leave.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

Something just doesn't feel right.

It feels like a thin needle pricking the back of your head; it doesn't hurt, but the itching is unbearable.

He slowly turned his head and looked in the mirror.

I still look so handsome in the mirror, and my hairstyle is still so cool.

But something just feels off.

The bartender finally realized something was wrong.

He looked down at his right hand—it was empty.

Then he looked up at his right hand in the mirror—in which he held a bloodstained long axe.

The bartender felt as if his heart had been suddenly gripped.

He slowly backed away, opened his mouth, wanting to shout, wanting to scream, but fear prevented him from making a sound.

The reflection in the mirror raised an axe, paused for a moment in mid-air, and then swung it down fiercely onto the mirror surface—

The axe blade miraculously passed through the mirror!

The head was severed from the body, and blood sprayed onto the ceiling.

After an unknown amount of time, the cleaner dragged his cleaning tools into the bathroom.

When she saw the puddle on the ground, she was stunned for a moment, then her legs went weak and she collapsed to the ground.

She was trembling all over, her lips were purple, and she couldn't utter a single word.

There was a sticky liquid on the ceiling, dripping onto my head.

The cleaner instinctively looked up.

The bright ceiling was like a giant mirror, reflecting her own image.

The difference is that the "she" in the mirror is holding a long, blood-dripping axe, a strange smile on her lips, and suddenly cleaving it down.

.....

A bedroom on the second floor of the bar.

She lay on the soft bed, still exuding charm, breathing evenly and fast asleep.

A chill ran through me.

He sat up abruptly, panting heavily, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

She reached out and wiped the sweat from her brow, muttering to herself with lingering fear:

"Why have I been having nightmares lately...?"

Her hand groped around on the bedside table a few times until she found the light switch.

With a "click," the light filled the entire room and illuminated the huge mirror on the wall.

"what!"

I was startled by my reflection in the mirror.

After she finished yelling, she felt incredibly stupid.

I was just having a nightmare and was still shaken up, and then I got scared by my own shadow.

"I'll definitely replace this broken mirror tomorrow," she muttered, lying back down and pulling the blanket over herself.

Close your eyes.

Darkness returned.

A few seconds later, she suddenly opened her eyes—something was wrong.

When she lay down, her reflection in the mirror was still sitting there.

My scalp tingled instantly, and every hair on my body stood on end.

She sat up abruptly, staring intently at the mirror.

I saw myself sitting in the mirror.

She waved, and her reflection in the mirror waved back.

The actions are synchronized, with no delay.

He rubbed his temples and let out a long breath.

I've been under so much pressure lately, my nerves are on edge.

Or maybe... you could go to the hospital and get some medication? Or see a psychologist?

Forget it, hospitals in the US are pure vampires.

Psychologists and neurologists are vampires among vampires.

She glanced at her phone—it was past three o'clock.

The bar will close in an hour, so I decided not to sleep and go downstairs to check the accounts.

She threw back the covers, got out of bed, and bent down to put on her slippers.

A chilling cold returned, as if someone had placed a block of ice on the back of her neck.

Raise your head.

The reflection in the mirror showed her swinging a long axe, the blade drawing a dark red arc in the air before crashing down towards her head.

"ah--!!!"

In a moment of panic, she instinctively threw her phone at the mirror.

"Splash—"

The mirror shattered instantly, and the reflection in it stopped swinging the axe and stared at itself menacingly because of the broken mirror.

Without bothering to put on clothes, she rushed out of the room barefoot in her gossamer-thin lace nightgown.

(Latest Update: Zero Antique Shop: Disfigured School Beauty Becomes Succubus to Pay Off Debts)