The air inside the pawnshop grew tense as Mr. Shen paced around the shop that evening. His unease was palpable, though he said nothing to Mei Lan and Wei, who were quietly observing him from their usual spots. They had seen Mr. Shen in many moods, but this was different. Something was wrong.
Suddenly, the soft chime of the doorbell rang out, breaking the tension as a customer stepped inside. The man who entered looked ordinary at first glance—middle-aged, wearing simple clothes—but the moment he laid an object on the counter, the room seemed to darken.
In his hand, he held a small, black box. It was sealed shut with intricate symbols that glowed faintly, giving off a menacing energy. The moment it touched the countertop, Wei felt a strange pull, like the air had thickened with a heavy, malevolent presence.
"I want to make a trade," the man said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. There was something in his tone that made Wei's hair stand on end.
