Rai then exited the room, his mind still filled with the various mystical knowledge he had absorbed over the past three months. All this time, he had known that the milk-drinking jinn only needed a single cup of milk to sustain themselves for an entire week. This left him puzzled—how did their bodies process nutrition? Just one cup a week, yet they had breasts the size of watermelons.
Curious, Rai asked them about their powers. He also showed them a video of his family being brutally murdered. The jinn simply replied that if they had been there, they could have saved some of his family members by escaping with their bodies.
Hearing that brought Rai a small sense of relief. He began preparing for his next journey into the spirit realm. Before going, he asked the eight milk-drinking jinn to guard his body.
The women respectfully nodded, then formed a circle around Rai's bed, ready to protect him from any disturbance during his journey into the supernatural realm.
Rai then activated the khodam Lala—a sensation that now felt familiar. The surrounding spirit energy thickened, like a dense fog gathering in a silent ritual. Calmly, Rai split the spirit energy in two, channeling part of it into the khodam Lala.
Lala slowly opened her eyes.
This body… it felt familiar.
It was the second time she had used the khodam. Large wings spread from her back, glowing softly in the dark. Spiritual fireflies circled around her—tiny luminous beings she could control with a single thought.
The body of the khodam now felt far more natural than before.
Or more precisely, Rai, using the khodam Lala—envisioned a portal.
The destination was clear: the Banjar spirit market.
And this time, he didn't forget to bring cash: 100 million rupiah, earned from his business and livestock farm, thanks to a sudden rise in stock prices.
"Please keep watch around here," said Lala, her voice now sounding melodious.
The eight milk-drinking jinn nodded in unison.
They glanced at each other as if silently agreeing on their decision. Then, each of them reached out and joined their hands together. From their palms, two drops of milk emerged.
The drops floated and slowly merged—two drops from each jinn—forming sixteen glowing drops of floating milk, like a cluster of ethereal liquid suspended in the air.
"What is this?" Lala asked, curious.
"This is a part of our khodam energy. Two drops can extend your khodam's duration by about two hours. So, with sixteen drops, you'll get an additional sixteen hours."
"Huh? But this is your energy... Why give it to me?"
"Yes, it is our core energy," one of them replied. "The side effect is that our breasts might shrink a little... but honestly, that feels like a blessing to us. We also feel guilty for failing to protect our master. This is just a small compensation to the master's heir."
"I can only say thank you. Sixteen hours... plus my original five hours... Now I can stay longer in the spirit realm."
Lala drank the sixteen drops of milk without hesitation.
Spiritual energy surged through her body, rapidly filling the void in her soul. The fragmented spirit that had been split earlier now grew thicker, stronger—its essence swelling within her like a dense flame reigniting.
Lala opened her eyes.
As she looked down, she gasped.
"Wait… why did my breasts get bigger?!"
"Ah... that's just a side effect from our milk core energy," one jinn explained. "Since our energy and breast size decreased, whoever drinks the milk ends up gaining our khodam energy—and a portion of our breast size as well."
Lala's face flushed with anger.
"You guys... even if it's just a little from each of you, I've received it from eight of you at once! Look at this—it's so heavy! I don't even know what size this is!"
"Master, it is merely a small sacrifice in exchange for greater power."
Lala sighed in resignation. With her chest now far heavier—perhaps even larger than the jinn themselves—she stepped into the portal.
Lala was still frustrated—her chest had grown even larger, and flying became noticeably more difficult. Though she managed to stay airborne, the added weight threw off her balance.
"Ugh... seriously?" she grumbled mid-air. "This is ridiculous."
She recalled something she once read online:
"Never befriend a jinn. No matter how kind they seem, they can always deceive their master."
It sounded like superstition back then, but now... maybe not so far-fetched.
She remembered a strange story from the internet:
A man had gotten lost in the forest, starving and alone. Suddenly, a jinn appeared and offered him food and a way out—but only if the man agreed to marry the jinn's daughter afterward. The jinn then showed him a vision of a beautiful woman.
Desperate and hungry, the man agreed.
He found his way out of the forest just as promised, but shortly after, he fell terribly ill. When examined by a healer, it was revealed that what he had been eating all along was nothing but sand, magically disguised to look like food.
Later, the jinn returned—with his "daughter."
But she looked nothing like the image shown before.
Not even close.
The man tried to back out, but the contract had a terrifying clause:
If he refused the marriage, he would have to cut off his own genitals.
A horrifying tale of how jinns could deceive humans with twisted contracts.
From that day forward, Lala vowed to never fully trust a jinn—especially now that she was walking through their realm.
Lala finally entered the marketplace.
It was her second time visiting the Banjar Spirit Market, and this time, she had a specific goal in mind:
The artificial khodam shop.
Lala stepped into the dimly lit shop, a faint chime echoing above her as the door creaked shut behind her.
Inside, rows upon rows of khodam were displayed in glass cases—each pulsing with a soft, eerie glow. The air was thick with a strange mixture of incense and spirit energy, making it feel like the room itself was breathing.
She walked slowly, eyes scanning the shelves.
The most expensive ones stood in proud isolation: humanoid khodams. Their forms were graceful, almost lifelike—some looked like dolls, others like statues frozen mid-movement. These were the elite vessels. Behind them, labels in gold ink showed staggering prices. The cheapest ones started at 10 million rupiah, and the more refined models went up to 100 million.
Next to them were the animal khodams—wolves, crows, snakes, and even a crocodile. Their eyes glowed faintly, and something about them made Lala's skin crawl.
"I'm... not ready for that," she whispered to herself.
There were even plant-based khodams, strange twisted roots curled into humanoid-like forms. Some were beautiful. Some were grotesque.
And at the very back, almost hidden in shadow, were the object khodams—tools and trinkets: an old lamp, a rusted knife, a mirror with a crack across the surface. These were the cheapest of all.
But she remembered Dukun Rosso's warning clearly:
> "Khodam objects… are terrifying. Once a spirit enters, it loses all senses—no sight, no sound, no voice. It depends entirely on raw energy."
That was enough to steer her away.
No. She would choose a humanoid.
Even if it cost her everything she brought today.
As she walked deeper into the shop, a strange whisper echoed from one of the glass boxes behind her.
Lala froze.
"…Did something just speak?"