"If I frightened you both, please forgive me. I didn't come here to scare you," the waiter's spirit said to Mercy and Michael.
"Oh, I actually expected you to show up to meet me and Mercy," Michael replied with a light laugh. "Seeing you did surprise me, but honestly, I expected it—so it didn't scare me the way you think."
"Then why have you come to us at all?" Mercy asked, flashing her blades with a playful yet dangerous grin. "Don't you know we're demon slayers? Our job is to send wandering spirits to their rightful place—hell. Is that where you want to go?"
At the sight of Mercy's blades, the waiter's spirit trembled. In a quivering voice, he answered, "No… I—I came here to ask you for a favour."
"A favour?" Michael asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Why would a wandering spirit ever need a favour from demon slayers?"
Seeing that Michael was at least willing to hear him out, the spirit steadied himself slightly and continued, "Before you do me this favour, you need to understand why I'm asking for it. And to understand that… you need to know my story." He gave a small, hesitant smile.
"Listen," Mercy cut in sharply. "Whoever you are and whatever favour you want, we don't have time to sit around chit-chatting with a wandering soul. So it would be best if you disappear from our sight as quickly as possible—before I change my mind and slice your spirit into two pieces."
Hearing this, the waiter's spirit looked heartbroken. He turned away and began drifting back toward the restaurant.
"Wait." Michael stepped forward. "I want to know what favour you want from us. If your intention is even slightly wrong, Mercy and I will shred your spirit in the very next second. But if your request is something worth helping with… I will assist you." He gestured to Mercy, telling her to listen to the spirit's full story.
Meanwhile, Stephanie had returned from the Ghost Bridge, and Lily was handing her a glass of water.
"So?" Lily asked eagerly. "Did the thing you went to the Ghost Bridge for work out? Did you meet Harper? Did she tell you about that postcard game?"
"Lily, calm down," Stephanie said, taking a sip of water. "Let me drink first and catch my breath. Then I'll tell you everything. But first, tell me—did Claire come back? Or did she call you?"
"I'm standing right here in front of you, alone," Lily said, hurt and frustrated. "I stayed here waiting for you, worried about you. But you… you're always worried only about Claire. As if you're not my friend—only hers."
Stephanie stared at her in surprise. This wasn't the first time lately that Lily had snapped at the mention of Claire. Stephanie could feel—just barely—that maybe Lily had begun to resent Claire deep inside… or perhaps it was all just her own imagination.
Stephanie gently tried to calm her and said, "Lily, just as Claire is my best friend, so are you. I don't see any difference between the two of you. I only asked because Claire had gone out, and I'd been at the Ghost Bridge for a long time, so I thought she might have come back. Anyway… yes, the reason I went to the Ghost Bridge is accomplished. I found some very important information about the postcard game—but I couldn't meet Harper's spirit."
"If you didn't meet Harper's spirit, then who gave you that information?" Lily asked in confusion.
"Because I didn't meet Harper's spirit," Stephanie replied, "but I did meet Aaron's spirit there."
Stephanie's answer left Lily stunned. "That's really strange… you went to meet Harper's spirit but ended up meeting Aaron. So what information did you get?"
At Lily's question, Stephanie began recounting everything that had happened at the Ghost Bridge. With every detail she shared, Lily's eyes grew wider and wider. And just then, both of them screamed when their front door suddenly swung open.
"What happened? Why are you two screaming like that? It's just me—Claire," Claire said, stepping inside. Sophia was with her.
"Thank God… you scared both of us," Lily said, pressing a hand to her chest.
Claire and Sophia hurried over to stand beside Lily and Stephanie.
"Stephanie, did you meet Harper's spirit?" Claire asked.
"No," Stephanie replied, "but I did learn everything about the postcard game. And though I didn't meet Harper's spirit, Sophia… I did meet your son Aaron's spirit." She said this to both Claire and Sophia.
At the mention of her son, Sophia grew emotional. Tears welled up in her eyes as she asked, "What did my son say to you? How is he there?" Her voice broke, and she couldn't hold back anymore—she began crying right there.
"He's fine there, Sophia," Stephanie said softly as she wrapped her arms around her. "And the first thing he asked about… was you. He misses you too, but he told me to tell you not to cry remembering him, because it makes him feel bad."
Held in Stephanie's embrace, Sophia gradually calmed down, and seeing her in such pain made Lily and Claire emotional as well.
Then Stephanie turned to Claire. "Claire, didn't you and Sophia find Patrick?"
"We did," Claire answered. "And we also found out a few important things about the postcard game."
"Then why didn't you bring him with you?" Lily asked, looking at Claire.
"Because he ran away," Claire said, taking a postcard out of her purse, "right when Sophia and I were checking his cupboard." She continued, "But I found this postcard—the one Patrick told me to take out. He said everything was written inside it. But it instead contains the story of someone named Naomi… and I still don't understand what is written in this postcard that causes everyone to die."
She explained everything to Stephanie as she handed over the postcard.
"Did you read that postcard?" Stephanie asked in shock, worry clearly etched across her face.
"Yes, Claire read it and so did I. Why? What's the problem with it?" Sophia asked, looking at Stephanie.
Hearing their answer, Stephanie glanced at Lily with growing panic, and both of their faces broke into a cold sweat.
"Claire… trust me. You shouldn't have read that postcard," Lily whispered in a tense, trembling voice.
"But why? What happens when someone reads it? And maybe this isn't even the same postcard—because this one tells the story of some Naomi, who was suffering because of her stepfather's abuse. Maybe she sent this postcard to Patrick asking for help." Claire held the card out toward Stephanie as she spoke.
"Claire, I'll tell you everything," Lily said, "but first, keep that postcard away from us—me and Stephanie both." She gestured urgently for Claire to put it aside.
Hearing Lily speak like that—and seeing the fear on Stephanie's face—Claire and Sophia felt a strange discomfort. Claire quickly put the postcard back into her purse.
Meanwhile, Michael and Mercy sat down by the roadside, ready to question the waiter's spirit about the favour he wanted.
The spirit sat beside them as well. "Thank you for listening to my story and being willing to help me. I am truly grateful to you both."
"Look," Michael said, staring straight at him, "I haven't promised anything yet. First tell me everything—then I'll decide whether I'll help you or not."
Hearing Michael's words, the waiter's spirit nodded and began telling his story. "My name is Harry, and I died two years ago because of a heart attack. Before I died, I used to work as a waiter right here in this restaurant. In my family, I have my wife, Frida, and my little son, Joy, who is four years old. My family was happy. We were poor, but my salary was enough to run the household. But one day, I met a man here named Karl. He was a drug dealer. He had come into our restaurant to hide from the police. He had a bag with him—fifty million dollars he had collected from a client. Somehow, the police found out about his deal and started chasing him. That's why he rushed into the restaurant. When he entered, I was the only one there. I had just closed up and was about to go home. He begged me for help and asked me to keep his bag safe. He said he would come back later to take it, and he would give me some money in return. But when I found out he was a drug dealer, I refused to help him. He then grabbed my ID card and held me at gunpoint. He threatened me—said that if I didn't help him and the police caught him, he'd tell them I was with him. I got scared… so I took the bag and hid it inside my house. But after he left, Karl never returned. A week passed, and then one day I read the news—Karl had been killed in an encounter by the police while he was on the run. The same day, when I was about to tell my wife Frida everything… I died of a heart attack."
As Harry said this, his spirit fell silent, tears forming in his eyes.
Michael and Mercy listened, but the story still didn't make sense to them. Michael looked at Harry and said, "But what do you want from me? I still don't understand."
"Because I am dead," Harry continued, "and I was the only one who earned for my family. After my death, a mountain of troubles fell onto them. One day, my wife came here to the restaurant, asking my manager for some money and a job. My son has a hole in his heart, and his surgery needs ten million dollars. And now that Karl is dead… the money is with me. I want my wife to use that money for herself and for our son. She has been working in this restaurant for the last year, but she still hasn't been able to collect enough for the surgery. She cries every day… and I can't bear to watch her tears."
Harry's spirit looked at Michael with eyes full of hope.
"Listen, Harry… your story is truly painful," Mercy said as she stood up, "but we can't help you. We have somewhere else to go."
But Michael was caught in confusion—should he help Harry or not? After a moment of thinking, he finally decided he would. Lucifer hadn't given him any new orders anyway, so for now he was free. Michael signaled Mercy to sit back down and said, "Mercy, sit for a minute."
Then he turned to Harry. "All you want is for me to tell your wife about the money, right? Fine. You said she works in this restaurant, so just tell me her name. I'll tell her everything right now."
"But she hasn't come to work for the past two days… because my son is admitted in the hospital," Harry replied sadly.
"Tell me the hospital's name. I'll go directly and meet your wife there," Michael said, standing up.
The moment Michael agreed to help, Harry's spirit lit up with happiness. "My son is admitted right now in Diving Heart Hospital."
"But how do you know all this?" Mercy asked suspiciously.
"Even though I'm not alive anymore, every morning I come here at 9 a.m., stay in the restaurant the whole day, and return home at 10 at night," Harry answered with a gentle smile.
Hearing that, Michael couldn't help but smile too—though Mercy still felt they shouldn't be helping a spirit, since they were demon slayers. But Michael had already made up his mind. He was going to help Harry's family.
Meanwhile, Stephanie told Claire and Sophia everything that Aaron's spirit had revealed to her.
"Oh my God! That means Sophia and I are also cursed now… and we'll have to make three copies of this postcard and curse three more people to save our own lives," Claire asked anxiously.
"You understood correctly," Stephanie said. "But I am not in favor of sacrificing other innocent people to save ourselves. However… I do have an idea. Something that might buy us some time—and give us a chance to solve this case."
"And what is that way?" Claire asked, still upset.
"Look, we have to send three letters within thirty days, and the first one must be sent within the initial ten days. So right now, we still have ten days," Stephnie explained, her voice sharp with urgency. "In these ten days, we will find out everything we can about this girl, Naomi. We'll meet her and ask who is using her story to write cursed postcards and send them to others, killing them.If we fail to solve this case within the first ten days, then on the tenth day you will write a postcard and give it to me, and Sophia will give hers to Lily. That way, we will earn another ten days." As she spoke, Stephnie's eyes gleamed with determination.
"So that means… to save Claire and Sophia's lives, you and I will also have to become sacrificial goats?" Lily asked, shocked.
"Yes, Lily, you're quite smart. You understood my plan instantly." Stephnie smiled, praising her.
But Claire wasn't happy. She didn't want her two friends—Lily and Stephnie—to risk their lives because of her. Unfortunately, aside from Stephnie's idea, they didn't have any other option.
"But how will we even find out about Naomi—like her address and everything?" Claire asked, looking toward Stephnie.
"Leave that part to me," Sophia replied. "Maybe you didn't notice, but Naomi clearly wrote in her story that she lives in the grey Panta House near the sea in San Diego, the one close to a lighthouse. San Diego is in California, and I know a few people in the California Police Department. I'll ask them to look into it."
"So that means our next girls' trip is to California! I mean—San Diego, the city of luxury nightlife. I'm so excited for this trip!" Lily said happily.
Seeing her excitement, everyone smiled—until Sophia added calmly, "But this time, I'm coming with you."
With that, Sophia left for the NYPD Headquarters, and the Ghost Mentors team began packing their luggage.
Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Michael and Mercy sat in a taxi with Harry's spirit, heading toward Divine Heart Hospital.
Who was Naomi?How was this curse connected to her?
For the Ghost Mentors team, these were the questions weighing heaviest on their minds. Time was running out—and because of this curse, Claire and Sophia's lives were now hanging by a thread.