Chapter Eighteen: The Ruthless One

That “ghost” truly appeared at my feet as if it had crawled out of the earth. I looked down and saw it was about as tall as my knee, with a pink face and sharp fangs, dressed in an extremely gaudy red and green outfit.

I recognized the attire instantly—it was unmistakably the burial clothes worn by the dead.

“Good heavens!” Both Wang Hou and I were startled by this sudden apparition, blurting out, “Where did this monster come from?”

While we glanced at each other in disbelief, the little ghost instead looked up, and with a comic air, slapped its own backside. Its brash demeanor seemed to be trying to ease our tension.

“It looks like a child?” I observed his antics, and my nerves calmed a little.

At that moment, the figure nodded at me energetically, smiling as if responding to my question.

But his smile sent another wave of dread through me.

Under the dim, blue light at the door, I saw only his mouth—full of black, crumbling fangs, exposed and dripping with black liquid!

Those sharp, black teeth were so grotesque, I could hardly bear to look; I suspected he was some kind of flesh-eating fiend…

My heart raced with anxiety as I wondered what sinister tricks this shadowy establishment was playing—why place such a creature, neither human nor ghost, at the entrance? Could this be the fabled “Kuman Thong,” a little ghost meant to guard the premises?

Then, the little ghost shook his plump body, pulled a face, and said, “Honored guests, don’t be afraid! I am the doorkeeper, Ah Si. Please, come inside!”

As I looked at his wrinkled ghost-face and mismatched limbs, a realization struck me.

This performer leading us inside was not a child, nor a ghost.

He was a dwarf—a person who would never grow up.

Such people stir sympathy; due to illness or congenital reasons, they are forever denied the chance to grow. Forced to make a living in this shady establishment, he performed ridiculous antics to attract customers and earn his daily bread.

I felt a pang of sorrow, though I had no time to dwell on it. After all, I had come to this place to investigate, and this restaurant was reputed to be a place where people disappeared without a trace. The dwarf could very well be a formidable villain.

“Alright!” Regaining my composure, I nodded and followed Ah Si into the depths of the establishment.

The child was exceedingly enthusiastic, performing handstands, juggling, and somersaults along the way—his antics drew a smile and nod from Wang Hou.

But I had no desire to laugh.

Truth be told, his every move was clownish, reminiscent of a circus performer, but under the red and green lights inside and out, all I felt was a creeping chill.

His shrill laughter particularly grated on me; if I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the sound of blades slicing throats.

That was how “melodious” his noise was—melodious enough to bleed.

Amid those nearly ear-splitting cackles, we followed Ah Si the dwarf to the reception desk.

The reception area was small but elegant; atop the black solid wood counter was a tall, fair-skinned girl in heavy makeup wearing a blue cheongsam, stationed beside a computer.

I was momentarily surprised at the sight of the computer.

This shady establishment was far more organized than I had imagined—digitally managed? Even many large restaurants in our county lacked such advanced systems. Being a small town, the “human touch” was often lacking.

“Welcome to True Taste Private Kitchen, please present your membership card!” The girl spoke graciously, smiling at Wang Hou and me.

Feeling a bit uneasy, I glanced at Wang Hou, hoping he’d handle the situation—he had boasted so much before coming, and now I was curious how he’d get us past the entrance.

Wang Hou smiled confidently and said to the receptionist, “I don’t have a card, can I just give you my phone number?”

The girl nodded slightly, granting permission.

Wang Hou recited both our phone numbers, explaining that we had reserved dinner for tonight at nine o’clock.

But after a lengthy search, the receptionist suddenly apologized.

My heart skipped a beat, and I looked again at Wang Hou.

I wondered when he’d made a reservation, and how my number got into the restaurant’s database—I had no idea. Now, it seemed the receptionist couldn’t find his reservation after all. What was he up to…

“What’s the matter?” Wang Hou adjusted his sunglasses coolly and said, “You haven’t seen my online reservation, have you?”

“Online reservation?!” Wang Hou’s words jolted me.

I suddenly recalled that he had spent the afternoon fiddling with his computer. Did he have the skills of a hacker, secretly altering True Taste’s customer records?

It seemed possible… I realized I didn’t fully understand the big guy’s talents. No wonder he got promoted; he was both clever and capable…

Just as I pieced it together, the restaurant worker, cheeks flushed, fiddled with the computer and said to Wang Hou,

“I’m terribly sorry—the system might be malfunctioning. Your reservation is indeed in our records, but it hasn’t been added to the chef’s schedule, nor has a room been reserved for you. How could this happen…”

Wang Hou grinned with satisfaction and made a gesture to me.

It was a common military signal—just two words: cause trouble!

I stifled a laugh and, playing along, shouted at the girl, “This is irresponsible of your restaurant! Do you know how hard it is for the two of us to come all this way? What, you want us to leave empty-handed?”

“Call your boss!”

“If we don’t get dinner tonight, I’ll report you for deceiving customers!”

…

As we raised our voices, the dwarf Ah Si swiftly vanished.

Watching his retreating figure, I laughed inwardly.

I knew he’d gone to fetch backup—and truth be told, I hoped he would. After a while, the fat owner of the establishment emerged, accompanied by two burly bodyguards, exuding an intimidating presence.

The boss strode in, shouting, “Is someone causing trouble?”

I’d seen him in Wang Hou’s covert photos, but seeing him in person, he was even uglier and fatter than I’d imagined—his appearance was almost an insult to fat people.

At that moment, Boss Bai was dressed in a crisp white suit, adorned with chunky gold rings, clearly not someone to be trifled with. He tried to assert dominance, flanked by his two bodyguards in black suits, broad-shouldered and imposing, reminiscent of American agents.

Then I noticed that the black suit Wang Hou had bought for me looked almost identical to those worn by the bodyguards! Could he be…

I couldn’t help but smile.

Honestly, I wasn’t afraid of those intimidating bodyguards—having served in the army, I understood a fundamental truth: “A dog that bites doesn’t bark, and those who get rich don’t boast.” The truly formidable are seldom the ones who make a show of it.

Besides, I had Wang Hou behind me—a ruthless fellow for whom handling those showy guards would be child’s play.

“Soldiers are raised for a thousand days, used for one moment!” I said to Wang Hou behind me.

He nodded knowingly and strode forward.

His next actions impressed me greatly—I finally understood the saying, “the villain complains first.”

Wang Hou stepped briskly up to the fat boss; his speed was such that the two burly bodyguards barely reacted, immediately putting them on the defensive.

Wang Hou’s approach startled the boss, who instinctively tried to step back, but before he could retreat, Wang Hou’s large hand clamped onto his shoulder!

“Bai Wei! Boss Bai! You’re finally here!” Wang Hou shouted, the volume making my eardrums buzz.

“Huh? Do I know you…” Boss Bai was bewildered by Wang Hou’s sudden “enthusiasm.” He looked up at the giant, panic written all over his face.

Wang Hou pressed on, shouting, “You’ve forgotten me, Wang Hou! When I dined here, you personally served me that ‘dog’s blood soup’! Do you remember?”

“Dog’s blood soup?” I was startled, then forced back a laugh, correcting him, “It was goji berry blood bird’s nest soup, wasn’t it?”

Boss Bai shook his head, but as Wang Hou’s grip tightened, he nodded in agreement.

“Do you remember now?” Wang Hou laughed and pressed further, increasing the force in his hand.

Boss Bai’s face was drenched in sweat, contorted and flushed.

I imagined Wang Hou must be hurting him badly—even if he wasn’t, I felt pain just watching.

Unable to withstand Wang Hou’s hold any longer, Bai Wei was forced into sudden “realization,” plastering on a smile: “I remember now, Boss… Boss Wang! I remember! You’re here to dine again!”

“Ah! That’s better!” Wang Hou chuckled, releasing Bai Wei’s shoulder.

The entire exchange lasted less than fifteen seconds; Wang Hou resolved all issues in a flash.

I was full of admiration.

I thought to myself, Wang Hou’s skills as a recon soldier are terrifying—he masters both force and finesse. If only he could apply a tenth of that to his love life, he wouldn’t be so hopelessly infatuated and lost.

People, I’ve come to understand, are ultimately defined by their talents. Wang Hou was born to be a soldier, but not a lover. As for me, I was born to be a chef… but not a lover either.

Thus, we managed to get into the restaurant.

When the waitress told Boss Bai about the “computer” issue, his face flashed a strange, sinister smile—but it vanished instantly.

I sensed he was onto something, but couldn’t be certain.

Afterwards, the fat boss masked his cunning, adopting a friendly demeanor as he explained that their computer malfunction had invalidated our reservation.

He regretfully informed us that the restaurant was already full tonight, but if we came another day, we’d receive a thirty percent discount. If not, he could arrange a seat for us around nine-thirty.

“Half an hour is fine—we can wait!” I chose the latter.

Boss Bai smiled and nodded, summoning a beautiful hostess to escort us to the guest lounge. He himself, surrounded by bodyguards, rubbed the shoulder Wang Hou had squeezed and walked deeper into the restaurant.

I heard him quietly berate his guards, “Useless bunch, bring Xiao Jiu over…”

I pretended not to hear. As for who Xiao Jiu was, I had a feeling I would meet this person soon enough.

We followed the lovely hostess toward the VIP lounge.

But just as we were about to enter, the dwarf Ah Si suddenly blocked our path.

“Gentlemen! Hand over your belongings,” Ah Si said with a smile that sent chills down my spine.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but Ah Si seemed an especially sinister presence. In fact, I felt he was even more dangerous than Boss Bai’s bodyguards. None of the guards made my heart race the way his smile did.

Especially with his laughter and those fangs—he truly looked like a little ghost.

I asked, “What is it you want us to hand over?”

Ah Si didn’t answer right away; instead, he cackled, then pulled a tray from behind his back…