To suppress these animal resentful spirits, they would need tattoos of the Twelve Stars.
The Twelve Stars represent the twelve celestial gods corresponding to the Chinese zodiac signs, also known as the Twelve Animal Gods - the primordial rulers of all creatures. With their divine power, no animal would dare act against them, let alone mere resentful spirits. The only exceptions would be legendary beasts like unicorns or phoenixes.
The actual price should be $60,000 since it's a Yang-themed tattoo that doesn't require expensive materials. But for these two, I decided to charge double - $120,000 per person with no bargaining. The effect should be excellent though - with the Twelve Stars tattooed on their bodies, those resentful spirits likely wouldn't dare harm them.
The Zabaletas were in no position to refuse. They agreed immediately to whatever price I named, desperate to save their lives. They didn't dare complain and even thanked me profusely.
I told them thanks weren't necessary - they just needed to keep their promises. "Never again torture animals for entertainment or profit," I warned. "If you do, even if the resentful spirits don't kill you, heaven's thunder will strike you down. The money you earned through such wickedness will only bring misfortune."
My words shamed the couple into silence, their heads hanging low. I instructed them to properly bury all the animal corpses and come to my tattoo parlor tomorrow for the Twelve Stars tattoos that would protect them.
The Zabaletas agreed. I sent Stein to supervise, ensuring they actually buried the carcasses properly rather than dumping them somewhere. Stein nodded reluctantly, glaring at the couple as if to say, "Now I have to work late because of you!"
True to their word, the Zabaletas carefully buried all the animal remains and performed proper rituals. Their sincerity suggested genuine repentance - or perhaps the terrifying sight of their victims returning as vengeful spirits had shocked them straight. Stein, however, had a rough night, not returning home until 3 or 4 AM before collapsing asleep on the sofa.
The next morning, the Zabaletas arrived at my shop. After handing over $240,000, I began tattooing the Twelve Stars on them.
Twelve stars for twelve zodiac signs made for an enormous design - I had to cover their entire backs. Tattooing both of them took tremendous time and effort. By the time I finished at 7 PM, I'd worked nearly ten continuous hours. At that point, $240,000 suddenly didn't seem so expensive after all.
With the Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts completed, the Zabaleta couple thanked me before leaving. As they departed, I reminded them to keep their promises - to donate all their ill-gotten money, including proceeds from selling their house. "Good deeds can't erase wickedness," I warned. They patted their chests reassuringly, swearing they would honor their word and put my mind at ease.
A few days later, I received a call from the Zabaletas. The resentful spirits hadn't reappeared, they reported, praising how my Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts lived up to their legendary reputation.
I'd always been confident in my tattoos' power. The Twelve Stars design would undoubtedly suppress those animal vengeful spirits - that was never in question.
Relieved the tattoos worked, I casually asked how much they'd donated so far. The line suddenly went dead with a sharp beep. Thinking we'd been disconnected, I tried calling back, only to discover they'd blocked my number.
I'd been duped. While frustrating, there was little I could do. They'd broken their promise, and I certainly wouldn't force them at knifepoint. Their betrayal wasted my trust in them. As the saying goes, "Many acts of injustice lead to death" - it seemed they were testing fate again.
Then Stein discovered Zabaleta's software still operating. It was a live-streaming platform, but with disturbing content - the kind only certain audiences would appreciate. There was Zabaleta himself, committing worse atrocities than before. On screen, he held a whimpering puppy while torturing it mercilessly. Even more sickening - viewers cheered him on, flooding the stream with donations.
Not only had this bastard not changed, he'd escalated his cruelty. The promised donations never happened, no good deeds performed - just a return to his old business, now more profitable than ever. Yuzmv participated as his accomplice, her vulpine eyes barely visible behind her paws as if even she couldn't bear to watch.
What made my blood boil was Zabaleta bragging about the Twelve Stars tattoo I'd given him. "This tattoo's from a real master," he boasted on stream. "With these Twelve Stars - the animal gods themselves - I can slaughter whatever I want! These are the big bosses of the animal realm. Who cares if their spirits come seeking vengeance?"
This bastard had twisted my protective tattoo into a license for cruelty - like wielding a dragon-slaying sword I'd forged to murder innocents.
But that ancient warning about injustice and death wasn't idle talk. The reckoning came about a month later.
While walking down a neighborhood street, the Zabaletas were suddenly attacked by over a dozen stray dogs. Witnesses reported the couple being mauled to death on the spot - faces shredded, throats torn out, killed instantly.
Yet longtime residents insisted their strays were famously docile, never biting anyone. Local dog lovers regularly fed them, so starvation wasn't an issue. A dozen strays collectively attacking two people? Unheard of. One or two dogs going mad might make sense - but an entire pack simultaneously?
It was bizarre. No one understood what had truly happened, yet a dozen stray dogs were euthanized for the neighborhood's safety.
After Zabaleta and his wife died, their software venture collapsed. Like I always say: overreach, and you'll face retribution! Reading the news report, I felt an inexplicable thrill—as if I'd personally slain my nemesis.
Had they simply heeded my advice—stopped mutilating animals, ceased their cruel practices—they might have survived. You needn't even donate to charity as I suggested, just refrain from such atrocities.
Pitiful. They never learned. Wealth-obsessed fools, doomed by their own greed.
Of course, this occurred a month later. At present, I was still grinding my teeth over the Zabaletas. Thank God I'd swindled $240,000 from them, or my resentment would've been unbearable.
That extra $240,000 brought me closer to my $10 million goal, so naturally, the Zabaleta incident faded from my priority list.
I'm like a physician. You describe symptoms; I prescribe treatment. Refuse to take the medicine? Then await your demise!
Days after the Zabaleta affair, I remained in low spirits—until Nuwa's Forsaken Shade visited me.
She came at night. I was asleep when a furry body suddenly slithered under my blankets. A shiver ran down my spine as I roared, "Who's there?!"
"Shhh! Must you shout? Want the whole world to know?" Nuwa's Forsaken Shade pressed a finger against my lips.
That voice made my blood run cold. I jerked upright, desperate to escape the shared bedding.
"What are you doing here? Have you lost your mind? Sneaking into my bed at this hour?" I demanded, then scanned the room. The door and windows showed no signs of forced entry—I'd secured them properly. How had she gotten in?