"Unexpected... After all these years, the water is still this clear."
Lindo’s voice was tinged with nostalgia as he shuffled toward the pool, bending slightly as if to scoop a handful to drink.
"Old man, don’t."
Fenric’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.
He stepped forward quickly, stopping Lindo with a firm hand. In the original timeline, this was the moment Renée Chu took Lindo’s life—impaled him with a steel pipe right after he tasted this water. The ghost didn’t want him dead... until he revealed her secrets.
"Why?" Lindo frowned in confusion.
"This water’s cursed," Fenric said flatly. "There could be rotting remains below. Drink it, and you’ll be dead before dawn."
"..."
Lindo froze, realization dawning in his weary eyes. After a long pause, he nodded and let his hand fall.
"You’re right..."
Fenric’s gaze softened for a moment. For all his ruthlessness, he couldn’t let a man this kind—and this useful—die here.
"Thank you for bringing me, old man," Fenric said quietly. "From here, it’s my problem. Please go home."
Lindo hesitated, worry clouding his wrinkled face. "Young man... Aunt Mei... she’s..."
He didn’t finish since the meaning is self-evident. His lips trembled as he turned and shuffled away.
Fenric watched his silhouette fade into the trees, his own voice a low whisper:
"Now... it’s her turn to be careful."
The moment Lindo was gone, Fenric’s gaze snapped back to the pool—a glassy mirror hiding a corpse’s secret. He didn’t move toward it. He wasn’t stupid enough to fight Renée Chu in her lair.
People belong on land. Only an idiot dives into a ghost’s den.
In the original story, some hero tried that—swam down to "resolve her grievances." They brought back nothing and instead turned into a crushed corpse. Fenric wasn’t about to repeat that mistake.
He turned on his heel and headed for the construction site.
"Who’s in charge here?" Fenric asked, his voice low but commanding.
A worker in a yellow hardhat—eyes wide at Fenric’s imposing presence—pointed to a fat man in a white helmet barking at a crew.
"Over there. Project manager. He calls the shots."
White hats meant authority. Blue and red, mid-tier. Yellow? The grunts. Fenric didn’t waste a second.
"Thanks," he said, striding toward the foreman.
"Five days behind schedule!" the fat man roared, spittle flying as a group of workers stood cowed. "What are you doing—eating shit out here? Move or you’re fired!"
A heavy hand tapped his shoulder.
He spun around, ready to lash out—then froze at the sight of a stranger.
"You—who the hell are you?"
Fenric smiled, but his eyes were shards of ice.
"You’re the manager? Good. I need to borrow your water pumps."
The fat man blinked. "What?"
"Your water pumps," Fenric repeated, voice silk over steel. "The big ones."
"You... you think you can just—" The manager sneered. "You know whose turf this is? You think you can—"
"I’m more than that," Fenric cut in smoothly. His smile widened. His hand moved faster than the fat man could see.
Shing!
A black blade—Shusui—sang as it left the scabbard. Two of the manager’s fingers hit the dirt before he even felt the pain.
"AHHHH!" The man’s scream split the air, but Fenric silenced it with the cold edge of the blade kissing his throat.
"Now," Fenric murmured, voice still calm, "will you lend it to me?"
The fat man trembled so hard his helmet rattled.
"Y-Yes! Yes, take it! Take everything!"
"Good." Fenric’s tone was light, almost playful. "Oh—and bring me a box of gasoline while you’re at it."
His smile never reached his eyes.
Minutes later, two massive water pumps—each weighing ten tons—were groaning and churning at the pool’s edge. Power cables snaked across the ground as the pumps roared to life.
Rumble!
Twin torrents spewed from the hoses, emptying the cursed pool at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Fenric stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching the waterline sink.
Less than an hour, and she’s exposed. Renée Chu, what will you do now?
He knew what he’d do in her place: sabotage the pumps—or the power.
So he waited. Alert. Every sense stretched taut as steel wire.
And he didn’t wait long.
A worker—eyes glassy, face slack—began staggering toward the generator, his gait jerky, unnatural. Fenric’s jaw tightened.
Possession. Just like the original plot. Anyone who’s drunk this water is her puppet.
The black blade flickered.
Shhhk!
The man’s legs dropped out from under him. But there was no scream, no pain—only a grotesque persistence. Legless, the body clawed forward with its hands, dragging itself toward the cables like a spider made of meat.
"Hiss!!"
Gasps erupted. The fat manager and his crew stumbled back, horror blanching their faces.
"What... what the hell—?!"
Fenric’s face didn’t change. He flicked his wrist.
Thump.
The crawling man’s head rolled across the gravel. The body collapsed at last.
Innocent? Yes. But Fenric didn’t care.
Anyone standing between me and my victory—dies.
Pity? There’s none.
Because it’s them or him dying.
He turned, voice cold as the grave:
"Listen well. From now on, anyone who steps near those pumps dies where they stand."
The workers recoiled, nodding frantically. The fat manager swallowed so hard Fenric could hear it.
The pumps roared. The pool shrank to a muddy scar. Fenric’s eyes burned like coals as he whispered:
"Renée Chu... your time is over."
Victory was within reach. He could almost taste it.
Then, a chill ran like a blade along his spine.
His left hand twitched. His fingers curled—not by his will.
Fenric’s eyes widened.
No...
At the final moment—Renée Chu chose a new tactic.
She chose his body!