I remember that day clearly - no customers came in, so as usual I took out my phone to browse. That's when I stumbled upon horrifying news about a murder.
A man had walked through the city waving a knife in his left hand while clutching a human head in his right, before turning himself in at the police station.
The shocking part? This was a famous director worth hundreds of millions. With his wealth and status, it was unimaginable he would commit such a brutal crime.
But the horror didn't stop there.
Within an hour, another man arrived at the station carrying a severed leg. This one was a major restaurant chain owner.
Over the next few hours, more people surrendered themselves - six in total. Each carried either a body part or wore human skin. All were prominent figures - famous directors, wealthy businessmen.
The case was so gruesome and unbelievable it quickly went viral, attracting hundreds of millions of online viewers.
Why would such wealthy, respected individuals commit such atrocities? And why so many?
Investigators pieced together the dismembered body - an eighteen-line actress named Olivia who'd been struggling in entertainment circles.
When questioned, all six killers gave eerily similar accounts:
Olivia had been their mistress, but recently she'd changed. She became irresistibly alluring, as if she'd... bewitched them.
For men of their status, women like Olivia were just playthings - they'd never felt this way before.
Yet now they couldn't bear being apart from her. The separation felt like suffocation.
Olivia, sensing her power, made endless demands - cars, properties, villas. Buy, buy, buy! Spend, spend, spend!
If refused, a nine-tailed fox with a half-human face would appear at night, threatening to devour them.
Terrified, they complied. But no fortune could sustain such extravagance. In under a week, Olivia purchased hundreds of villas, luxury cars, diamonds, antiques, and gambled daily - draining them completely.
When she'd sucked them dry, she prepared to discard them.
But they couldn't let go. Panicked yet cunning (their success proved their intelligence), they realized their usefulness had ended. Olivia would leave them soon...
The only way to keep Olivia was to kill her! Their money was gone, and they couldn't bear to lose her too. They refused to lose both their wealth and their woman.
The famous director acted first. When he stabbed Olivia a dozen times from behind, then severed her head and cradled it in his arms, he suddenly felt at peace. That suffocating sensation vanished instantly.
Knowing he couldn't escape punishment, he turned himself in. The others soon followed suit. Strangely, they all laughed while clutching Olivia's dismembered body parts.
What should have been a horrifying, grotesque scene became even more chilling when their confessions emerged. Soon, countless theories circulated.
Some claimed Olivia had worshipped a fox spirit to enchant these wealthy men, only to be devoured by it herself - a fittingly tragic end. Others insisted she'd cursed them or planted some compulsion.
Many explanations surfaced, but only I knew the truth: it was the Yin-inspired Tattoo!
Yet the tattoo wasn't solely responsible for Olivia's death - her own greed was the root cause.
The Yin-inspired Tattoo was indeed sinister. It amplified Olivia's allure, but her insatiable greed sealed her fate.
Had she shown restraint, the outcome might have differed.
Olivia's gruesome death - dismembered by six men - was tragic, though her killers fared no better.
That night, Olivia visited my dreams. Moaning in pain, she handed me a needle, begging me to stitch her mangled corpse. "Do this," she whispered, "and I'll sleep with you."
Terrified, I shoved her away, screaming for her to leave. But her severed head rolled to my feet like a soccer ball, shrieking in agony.
Suddenly, a fox burst from her arm tattoo - its face half-human, eyes burning scarlet. As it unhinged its bloody jaws to swallow Olivia whole, she screamed for help. But I stood paralyzed, my body stiff as wood.
I awoke drenched in cold sweat, my clothes soaked through. Sleep abandoned me afterward. For weeks I suffered nightmares and exhaustion - until the dwarf appeared at my tattoo parlor.
Standing just 1.2 meters tall but looking over forty, his scarred face twisted with emotion, he rushed forward and clutched my legs, weeping uncontrollably. "Heaven has eyes!" he cried. "The tattoo parlor has reopened! I've waited twenty years - a full twenty years!"
I hastily pushed him away and demanded to know who he was. His face was covered in snot and tears - disgusting and unsettling.
The midget said his name was Stein, an old friend of Grandpa's. At age ten, he had worked in this tattoo parlor, and he produced numerous photos with Grandpa as proof, along with records of his past work routines here.
Stein explained that after working here for ten years, Grandpa had closed the shop. Grandpa told him the parlor would reopen in twenty years under new ownership, instructing Stein to return then.
"Twenty years! Do you know how I've survived these twenty years?" Stein wailed.
"How? Playing online games?"
"These twenty years... I've begged on streets, carried bricks, cleaned toilets - lived worse than an ox, all for pitiful wages. Finally... finally I've found you!" Stein alternated between sobbing and sudden laughter, seemingly overwhelmed by emotion, completely oblivious to anything I said.
I told him to calm down. Though he'd worked here before, I was now the boss. I needed to clarify his responsibilities - why else would I hire him?
Truthfully, this underworld-related business suited disabled people like him perfectly.
Take Christoph's crematorium - his employees were all mute since they didn't need to speak to corpses.
Or blind fortune tellers and bone readers - often more accurate than sighted ones.
A dwarf's disability also meant an incomplete destiny and unbalanced eight characters in their birth chart.
Still, he had to prove useful. I couldn't afford dead weight.
Stein assured me that while he couldn't tattoo, he knew feng shui, yin-yang arts, fortune-telling, ghost matters, corpse handling, and human charms - skills learned during his time with Grandpa.
Most importantly, he could bring in clients. From common folk to business and entertainment circles, he had connections to secure customers - he wouldn't take my money for nothing.
"Five thousand monthly during probation. After three months, eight thousand. Take it or leave it! More clients mean commissions. Room and board included!"
The promise of clients alone justified hiring him. In this godforsaken location, with me being new, business would be scarce without connections. Even a few jobs monthly would be lucky - how else could I earn millions?
"I'll take it! Thank you, Little Boss!" Stein said gratefully. Certainly better than cleaning toilets or hauling bricks.
Just then, Chloe arrived after days of absence. Seeing Stein, she signaled me with her eyes, uncomfortable speaking before a stranger.
I reassured her - he was our new hire. As Stein hurried to serve tea, Chloe hadn't even spoken when he suddenly grabbed her wrist, shocking us both. Chloe angrily shook him off.
"What are you... Ror, what kind of person did you hire?"
I was about to reprimand Stein when he explained: he only meant to check her pulse - Chloe seemed to be pregnant... with a Corpse-Fetus.