Chapter 79: The Refractive Mirror Field

Although Qi Yan had yet to unravel every detail, at least most of the answers were now in his grasp.

The last time at Haimu Ravine, the man before him had never uttered a word; instead, he had launched straight into a violent confrontation. Yet now, upon meeting again, he was finally revealing his true colors. The three thin paper figures at his fingertips were enough to explain much.

“It was you… You released those Japanese ghosts… hiding in the shadows, stirring up trouble with such terrifying dark arts instead of showing yourself?”

Watanabe Shinji ignored the anger in his voice and replied coolly, “I’ve already told you, tonight you are not my target. Hand over the camera, and you may leave unharmed.”

Qi Yan stared at him in silence for a while. Finally, the corners of his mouth twitched, and he slowly shook his head. “Heh… Haha! I used to think you were merely a gang of criminals, dabbling in some unspeakable filth.”

“I was unlucky last time, dragged into your operation. I didn’t report it afterward, because what happened that night at the Cold Pool was… not something I could easily bring to light. Since I wasn’t really harmed, I let it go.”

“But I never expected you’d keep your eye on me. Like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, you even tried to kill me with ghosts.”

He was, of course, referring to the incident at Yang Han’s house. It couldn’t be mere coincidence—those were the same shikigami exclusive to Japanese Onmyodo. Now, having stumbled upon the truth, everything made sense.

Watanabe listened quietly, his thoughts inscrutable, and only after Qi Yan finished did he speak, unhurried, “If I wanted you dead, I’d use far more direct means… Believe it or not, I’m not after your life. In fact… you and I now belong to the same kind.”

“The same kind? Ha…!” Qi Yan nearly laughed aloud in disbelief.

“Isn’t it so? You think my use of ghosts and monsters is evil? But look at yourself… When faced with danger you couldn’t resolve, you instinctively reached for the shadow token, seeking its protection, emboldened by its power, right? Since both of us are living men relying on the strength of spirits, we really are quite alike.”

Qi Yan still shook his head. “Enough. Don’t twist the argument… I’m defending myself. What about you? I nearly fell victim to a shikigami in a villa in Huanye New District—wasn’t that your handiwork? Don’t tell me it was just coincidence…”

Watanabe Shinji did not deny it. Instead, he spoke on, his words layered with meaning, “No matter what you say, I know the truth… Once ordinary people gain supernatural power, everything changes.”

“Your name is Qi Yan, yes? Since you acquired that shadow token, your life has transformed dramatically. But haven’t you grown just a little addicted to this feeling? How can I put it… Like a mortal suddenly gifted with magic, able to achieve the impossible.”

“No matter how frightening the threat before you, the token’s power shields you, just as now you dare stand against me. Some temptations aren’t easily relinquished.”

He spoke in a calm tone, inching closer to Qi Yan.

Qi Yan noticed and stepped back a few paces. “What’s the point of all this talk? It’s meaningless, isn’t it?”

“It does matter… Though you hold the token now, do you truly control it? So far, I suspect you’re merely reacting passively. So I have to ask: are you its master, or is it controlling you?”

Watanabe’s voice remained cold, but it carried a strange allure. Qi Yan had been tense, but as the conversation wound on, he found himself oddly intrigued, unable to resist replying.

“Oh? It seems you know more about my shadow token than I do.”

“I certainly do. Before it chose you, you were just an ordinary man, utterly ordinary… But let me warn you: this power is not for the likes of you.”

Qi Yan laughed again. “So you mean to steal my token no matter what?”

He scratched his head, feigning a troubled expression. “Tsk… Well, honestly, I’d be glad if someone took it off my hands so I could be free of it. As you said, I’m just a regular guy—the weight of this power is too much for me.”

“But…” Qi Yan shifted his tone, “My temperament isn’t so great; I’ve always been like this. If I don’t want something, I’ll discard it—unless someone tries to take it by force. That, I can never accept.”

Watanabe Shinji’s face grew darker, while Qi Yan flashed a provocative smile. “Here I am—take what you want if you can manage it. But let’s be clear: whether at Haimu Ravine, the villa, or now, you’ve really enraged me. Seems we have several scores to settle.”

A cold wind swept across the open lawn where they stood, and the temperature around them dropped noticeably.

After a lengthy silence, Watanabe Shinji finally grew tired of talking. “Your confidence—does it come from courage, or ignorance? But seeing your eyes now, I know you’re not joking.”

As his words faded, he tossed the three paper figures into the air. The chilly wind caught them, and they floated like autumn leaves, gradually turning transparent and vanishing before they touched the ground.

During this, Watanabe extended his index and middle fingers from both hands, crossing them over his chest in a sign. Then, fingers interlocked, he swept his right hand before his face.

Qi Yan watched the surroundings closely. A few seconds passed, and then, centered around them, the air in a circle with a radius of about ten meters began to distort, almost imperceptibly.

It was like the subtle, invisible ripples of hot air in midsummer.

Next, numerous surfaces appeared around them… Glass? Each was nearly two meters tall, forming a circle that enclosed them.

Though they stood in the shadow of the Convention City buildings, where moonlight shouldn’t reach, these “glass” surfaces reflected a faint glow.

Qi Yan took a closer look—this wasn’t glass. They were mirrors, for their reflections were clearly visible; as many mirrors as there were, so many images. They were now trapped within a wall of mirrors.

“Well then, these are called ‘Refraction Mirrors,’ a type of Tsukumogami. Even if ordinary people pass by outside, they won’t see us or hear us—it’s like a gladiatorial arena I’ve conjured for you.”

“Originally… you might have lived a while longer, but since you’ve come to me tonight, I don’t mind accelerating the process…”

Qi Yan still didn’t fully grasp what this man was saying, but one thing was clear: he had further confined him inside this circle of mirrors, preparing to unleash his power.