Chapter 106: Ghost Postman? Sorry, I Don't Eat Beef in Gensokyo
"Customer, come a little closer~" the Ghost Flower cooed, its voice a sickly sweet whisper. As Haruto drew near, the flirtatious expression painted across its petals deepened into something predatory.
Two meters.
One meter.
Half a meter… Now!
With a sickening rip, the flower's face split open, revealing a crimson maw lined with thorns. It lunged, its jaw unhinging to swallow Haruto's head in a single, lightning-fast bite.
Not far away, Kazami Yuuka remained perfectly still, her only movement a lazy flick of her eyes in their direction. It was clear she didn't believe for a second that this outrageously ugly creature could harm Haruto in the slightest.
Slap—
A crisp, sharp smack echoed through the clearing.
The Ghost Flower froze mid-lunge, its entire stalk quivering. Its leaves, like trembling hands, instinctively flew up to cover the stinging center of its face. After a brief moment of stunned disbelief, it finally processed what had happened. Its features twisted into a mask of pure fury.
"You're looking for death! I'll definitely— poof!"
Before it could finish its threat, another vicious slap cut it off. This one carried so much force that the flower spun completely around on its stem, two of its petals fluttering pathetically to the ground.
"Fuck…"
Slap!
"Wait—"
Slap! Slap! Slap!
A torrential storm of open-handed strikes descended, each one landing with loud, merciless precision.
By the time Haruto finally lowered his hand, the Ghost Flower had been slapped into a daze, its vision swimming with stars. Its petals drooped limply, and its eyes, surprisingly, held a hint of unmatched, terrified clarity.
"Now," Haruto said, slowly shaking feeling back into his hand. "Do you know what to call me?"
"Mas… Master…" the Ghost Flower whimpered, shrinking its neck as far as it could. It had become utterly and completely obedient.
Haruto nodded in satisfaction and gestured for the two women behind him to follow him into the house.
The surrounding Ghost Flowers, which had been rustling with restless agitation just moments before, fell deathly silent. Whether they were intimidated by the tragic state of their peer or had received a silent command, they all recoiled in unison, clearing a wide path.
The three of them passed through, completely unobstructed.
In stark contrast to the gloomy, menacing thicket of Ghost Flowers outside, the interior of the house was bright and warm. It was filled with countless beautiful flowers, all of which leaned slightly, as if paying homage to the Dream Mansion they now inhabited.
Marisa plopped down onto a chair woven from living moss. She looked around in wonder, accepting the cup of tea Haruto handed her. "I didn't expect you to be so skilled, Haruto," she couldn't help but admire. "It's so beautiful in here."
"I didn't build it." Haruto shook his head and pointed a thumb toward Kazami Yuuka, who was standing nearby. "She did. This lady right here built it."
"Pfft—!"
Marisa failed to contain herself, spraying a mouthful of tea directly at Haruto, who wore a thunderous expression as he wiped the droplets from his clothes.
"Just talk! Why are you spitting all over my face?"
"Sorry, sorry!" Marisa managed after a moment, pulling her wide-brimmed wizard hat down slightly. She stared at Kazami Yuuka, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Initially, she hadn't fully believed that Haruto could convince Kazami Yuuka to 'train' her and help her grow stronger with nothing more than a one-day pass. She had lingered at the edge of the Sunflower Field, hesitating, until Yuuka herself had found her and quite literally dragged her in.
And now this… he actually got that tyrant of flowers to build a house by hand?
Marisa narrowed her eyes, her gaze shifting back to Haruto. Her delicate face lit up with an 'I knew it!' expression as she slapped her fist into her palm.
"I knew it! Are you two—wah!"
Before she could finish her sentence, a sharp hand-chop landed squarely on her forehead.
Marisa crouched down, clutching her head and glaring at the culprit with teary eyes. "Why'd you hit me!" she grumbled in dissatisfaction.
"Just a hunch," Haruto said, resting his chin on his hand with a thoughtful look. "I felt like you were about to say something quite impolite."
Marisa was rendered speechless. She wanted to refute him but found she couldn't, so she settled for shooting him a resentful glare. She snatched a pear from the table and took two vicious bites, as if imagining the fruit was a certain someone and a convenient target for her frustration.
Kazami Yuuka sipped her tea in silence. She didn't speak, but her crimson eyes were filled with a quiet, weary helplessness.
Three days later, in the dim light of early morning.
Haruto was being woken up. He tried everything—covering his head with a pillow, burying his face in a blanket, even sticking his entire head into a Gap—but he was ruthlessly pulled back out by Yakumo Ran.
"Haruto-sama, please wake up! Your package has arrived."
"What package would I have?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "It must be for Lady Yukari. You go get it."
Yakumo Ran looked like she wanted to cry but had no tears. In this regard, her Haruto-sama was far too much like Lady Yukari. "No, it's yours. The courier insists that you sign for it in person."
Under Ran's repeated urging, Haruto reluctantly dragged himself out of bed. He truly couldn't believe it. Even after returning to Gensokyo, he couldn't get a single peaceful night's sleep.
A familiar, simmering anger began to bubble up inside him. Naturally, he couldn't vent it on his dear Ran, and he certainly couldn't take it out on his surrogate mother, Yukari.
His target, therefore, was aimed squarely at this so-called "Ghost Postman."
Haruto gritted his teeth. If this person dared to wake him up at the crack of dawn, they had better pray he didn't find any fault with their service. Otherwise, he was going to deliver two punches, free of charge.
The Ghost Postman was not located inside Gensokyo.
Through a Gap opened by Yakumo Ran, Haruto first zipped over to the Hakurei Shrine. He unceremoniously dragged the still-sleeping Reimu out of her futon, and then, together, they passed through a new Gap, arriving at the former site of the Hakurei Shrine in the outside world. This abandoned, dilapidated shrine was one of the few remaining connection points between Gensokyo and the human world.
From a distance, Haruto spotted a figure standing silently amidst the overgrown weeds. The person wore an old, tattered uniform and had a face the color of bleached bone. A wide-brimmed hat obscured most of their features, but from the parts of the jaw and neck that were exposed, he could see rotting, discolored flesh. It was just enough to identify the figure as male.
The Ghost Postman held a seemingly ordinary delivery box. This was his package.
As he approached, Haruto recalled the rules Xie Lin had sent him for dealing with a Ghost Postman.
1. Refuse anonymous items: If the sender's information is wrong, ask for clarification. If the courier remains silent or gives an irrelevant answer, do not sign for the package.
2. Only sign in person during the day: Ignore any nighttime delivery attempts and wait for redelivery. The handover must occur in an open area during daylight hours, never in a confined space like a bedroom…
The rest of the rules were basic common sense: don't say goodbye, don't be polite, and maintain a safe distance at all times.
Of course, Haruto had no intention of following any of them.
In his view, these rules were just bad habits that had been created by indulging these creatures. This wasn't one of the survival game instances. If this Ghost Postman dared to bare its teeth, he'd just call someone to bury it on the spot—which was precisely why he had brought Reimu along.
Although the shrine maiden was still groggy and half-asleep, she wasn't unhappy to be there. After all, this concerned her future happiness—and Haruto's patronage.
Haruto walked right up to the Ghost Postman and reached for the box, but the postman pulled it back.
"Please show the order number," the postman rasped, his voice like dry leaves skittering across pavement.
Haruto raised an eyebrow but didn't lose his temper. To prevent incorrect deliveries, this was a justifiable request.
After displaying the number, he reached out again. This time, the Ghost Postman slowly tilted his head up. The rotting corners of his mouth, hidden under the hat's brim, pulled into a bizarre, grotesque arc.
"You need to pay an additional expedited delivery fee." As he spoke, he held out his empty left hand, palm up.
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