Chapter 167: Salt, Smoke, And Soda Water Shenanigans

Glass crunched under their feet as they stepped through the shop’s broken doorframe.

The familiar chime had been replaced by the sharp percussion of debris shifting underfoot.

Kane surveyed the devastation with growing understanding. Scattered coins glittered among the ruins of display cases.

Vintage collectibles lay in pieces, their carefully preserved history reduced to fragments.

The overhead lights dangled at odd angles, several bulbs shattered completely.

This wasn’t just property damage—this was the physical manifestation of Cyrus’s terror when he’d received that message from Elias.

"My treasures," Mochi wailed dramatically, throwing himself across a pile of broken arcade games. "My beautiful, profitable treasures!"

He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with theatrical sobs.

But Kane caught the quick gleam in Mochi’s amber eyes—the cat spirit was already calculating renovation budgets and payouts.

Kane collapsed onto the battered velvet couch, exhaustion finally claiming him.

His elbow knocked over a precariously balanced pile of brass incense burners, sending them clattering across the floor in a cascade of metallic chimes.

Cyrus surveyed the wreckage with mild disdain, stepping carefully around a destroyed fortune-telling machine.

"This place was a fire hazard even before the dragon fire."

Mochi’s wailing cut off abruptly.

"Excuse me? My shop has character!"

"Your shop had newspapers from 1987 stacked next to exposed electrical wiring," Cyrus replied dryly.

"Regardless," Cyrus said, stepping over a shattered snow globe, "I’ll cover the full restoration."

He surveyed the destruction with detachment, calculating square footage and replacement costs.

"Insurance won’t touch supernatural damage anyway."

Mochi’s theatrical sobbing ceased instantly.

"Full restoration? Like, everything? Even the vintage pinball machines?"

"Everything," Cyrus confirmed. "Plus the five million we discussed."

Kane’s head snapped up from the couch.

"Five million? For what?"

"Hazard pay," Mochi said smugly, already mentally redecorating. "Your boyfriend appreciates quality service."

"And Ginsei gets his Viper," Cyrus added, ignoring Kane’s incredulous stare. "Plus the promotion recommendation."

Ginsei straightened, looking pleased despite the circumstances.

"Commander Qi will be impressed when I explain my recent... consulting work."

Kane struggled to process the casual distribution of small fortunes.

"You’re paying them more than most people make in a lifetime. For what, exactly?"

"For risking their lives to help rescue you," Cyrus said quietly.

The casual mention of millions made Kane’s head spin.

"With that kind of money, I probably could have just rescued myself," Kane muttered, sinking deeper into the couch cushions.

Mochi and Ginsei turned identical glares on him—Mochi’s amber eyes narrowing to slits, while Ginsei’s ice-blue gaze could have frozen water.

"Some gratitude would be refreshing," Ginsei added coldly.

Kane winced, realizing how ungrateful he sounded.

Before he could apologize, Cyrus’s warm hand settled on his head, fingers threading through silver-white hair.

"They chose to help," Cyrus said quietly. "That choice has value beyond any price."

His fingers traced behind Kane’s ears, and despite everything, Kane found himself leaning into the touch.

"Besides," Cyrus continued, "you’re worth considerably more than five million dollars."

Kane’s cheeks flushed, but before he could respond, Mochi suddenly perked up like a cat spotting movement.

"You’re exhausted," Cyrus said gently, his touch soothing the frayed edges of Kane’s nerves. "Don’t mind him—awakening nine tails would scramble anyone’s thoughts."

"Speaking of awakening—we have a problem!"

Glass tinkled as Mochi shoved aside broken picture frames and scattered coins.

He emerged triumphant, clutching a half-scorched cardboard box labeled in faded marker: "Emergency Ritual Kit (Do Not Touch)."

"We have to purge the bad vibes! You don’t just drag nine tails’ awakening juju into a shop without cleansing it."

Mochi dumped the box’s contents onto a relatively clear patch of floor.

Incense sticks scattered like pickup sticks, alongside paper talismans, brass bells, and a suspicious plastic bottle labeled "Blessed Soda Water."

Cyrus stared at the makeshift ritual supplies with undisguised disbelief.

"You can’t be serious."

Kane muffled a laugh against the couch pillow, too exhausted to protest the absurdity.

Mochi struck a match with theatrical flair, lighting three incense sticks simultaneously.

Pungent smoke billowed forth—a nauseating combination of sandalwood, vanilla, and what smelled suspiciously like old fish.

"Behold! The ancient ritual of spiritual cleansing!"

He waved the smoking bundle in sweeping arcs, chanting in what Kane was fairly certain was complete gibberish mixed with occasional Japanese words.

"Spirits of negativity, begone from this sacred space!"

The smoke reached Ginsei first, who immediately began coughing and backing toward the door.

Mochi pursued him with zealous determination, jabbing the incense dangerously close to Ginsei’s face.

"Hold still! Bad vibes cling to serpents!"

"This is ridiculous," Ginsei wheezed, swatting at the smoke.

Undeterred, Mochi grabbed a salt shaker from his emergency kit and began sprinkling it in an increasingly wide circle around the shop.

Then he spotted Cyrus observing from near the broken fortune-telling machine.

"Dragons hoard bad vibes! Hold still while I purify your scales."

Mochi lunged forward, salt shaker extended like a weapon.

Cyrus sidestepped gracefully, his expression shifting to pure disdain.

"This is beneath me."

Cyrus executed another graceful dodge as Mochi attempted to attack again.

"The spirits demand cleansing!"

Kane couldn’t contain his snickers, watching Cyrus perform an elegant dance around Mochi’s increasingly frantic salt attacks.

Mochi whirled toward the sound, eyes gleaming with mischief.

He grabbed the plastic bottle of blessed soda water and flicked a generous spray at Kane.

"Purify the fox!"

Kane sputtered as sticky droplets hit his face and hair.

"Mochi! This is going to make my fur clump!"

Mochi sprinkled more soda water in Kane’s direction, chanting enthusiastically.

"Ancient fox spirits require extra purification!"

He grabbed a charcoal stick from his kit and advanced on Ginsei with predatory glee.

"Now for the traditional ward markings!"

Ginsei backed against the broken doorframe as Mochi aimed the charcoal at his face.

"Hold still! Serpent whiskers are essential for—"

"Enough." Ginsei’s voice cut through Mochi’s gibberish like ice. "If you insist on this nonsense, at least do it properly."

He snatched the charcoal from Mochi’s grip. "Real ward markings follow specific patterns, not random scribbles."

Ginsei began drawing proper sigils on the wall with practiced strokes.