Chapter 034: Recruiting a Female Assistant

A man, a dog, and two Mikes were causing such chaos in the yard that chickens and dogs scattered in all directions, making it impossible for anyone to keep a straight face. Johnny watched the lively little husky, clutching his stomach with laughter. “Is that your dog? It’s adorable!”

Li Lekang, for once not troubled by Dog Mike, found the mischief amusing when it was someone else’s problem. “He’s a little demon when he gets naughty!”

Everyone laughed. After all, what harm could such a lovable animal possibly have in mind? Unless, of course, it truly was a demon sent from hell.

Thanks to Dog Mike’s antics, the party’s mood lightened. A party, after all, is meant for fun and merrymaking; sitting around too prim and proper only makes it feel like a business meeting.

Li Lekang went into the yard and called out to the still-running husky, “Mike!”

Dog Mike paused, glanced back, then dashed off again.

“Come here!” Li Lekang called. “Right this minute!” He gestured as if searching for his slippers.

Dog Mike might not listen to anyone else, but his owner’s “magic slippers” had become a conditioned trigger. At the sight of them, he whimpered obediently and trotted back.

Human Mike, meanwhile, was panting dramatically at the sidelines. “This dog is too clever. I swear it was looking down on me!”

Li Lekang patted the dog’s head, smiling as he reassured him, “It’s just how huskies are. You have to be crazier than they are if you want to win.”

Mike chuckled, propping his hands on his knees as he struggled to stay upright. “I need a break. That’s enough exercise for a whole day.”

Li Lekang sat down beside him, happy to chat.

Mike brought up the solo magic show. “Let’s stick to the plan and get things moving. The official promos, ticketing system, stage arrangements—it’s all in place. Your first show is scheduled for two weeks from now, Saturday night. Any thoughts?”

“No problem. As long as there’s a stage, I can perform anytime.”

“You’re the least demanding artist I’ve ever worked with, truly,” Mike said, clearly relieved. Li Lekang was always low-maintenance because his talent spoke for itself.

“But let’s see if we can keep stirring up some buzz these next two weeks. The debunking group that bet against you has gone quiet; maybe we can fan the flames ourselves.”

“I doubt they’ll manage anything,” Li Lekang said with confidence.

Mike mused, “Or we could come up with a new angle to warm up the audience for your performance. Something classic, perhaps. Do you feel like your magic shows are missing something?”

“Missing what?”

“Women!” Mike declared. “It’s not essential, but on stage, a beautiful woman really is a dazzling sight. Maybe you should add some. Just a suggestion from a layman, of course.”

“You’re actually making a good point.” Li Lekang had been thinking along those lines as well.

He needed one or two female assistants to help with his magic acts. The problem was, as a practitioner of real magic, having assistants meant risking exposure. He’d consulted the Scroll Spirit about it, whose advice was blunt: Sign a soul contract.

As a mage from the demon race—the “devil” in the eyes of the world—he was innately capable of forging contracts, regardless of power. To act according to a contract was their highest principle. The binding force was formidable, governed by the laws of the world; any breach brought retribution, sometimes as severe as the loss of one’s soul.

It was an effective solution, but Li Lekang worried it was overkill.

Was it necessary to make someone sign a devil’s contract just for a job?

But the Scroll Spirit clarified: “There are many kinds of contracts. The serious ones can tear body from soul, but the simplest are just behavioral constraints, making it so the person simply can’t speak of what they know.”

Li Lekang realized his thinking was outdated. Times had changed. Soul contracts weren’t always grand or dramatic; sometimes they were no more significant than signing a purchase order.

It was just a magical way of securing cooperation—the deeper the terms, the greater the power required. Minor agreements carried only a small penalty for breaking them—at least for the powerful. If you signed a contract with a demon lord and didn’t have the strength to resist, you’d be in trouble. But for an ordinary human, there was little risk of severe punishment.

For humans, it was an unfathomable method. For them, it was just daily business.

With the Scroll Spirit’s explanation, Li Lekang finally understood.

After the party ended that night, Li Lekang drove Daisy home.

On the way, he brought up the matter of assistants. “I want to be upfront about something—not because I don’t trust you, but because of technical and company confidentiality, I have to do this.”

Daisy listened intently. “Go on.”

“My magic is meticulously designed. You’ve seen the excitement online, people calling me an Asian wizard who’s trained for years—I didn’t even know I had such a background!”

“It’s because you’re incredible!” Daisy laughed.

“To be honest, it’s easy for a magician’s assistant to figure out the secrets. But every clever trick is the magician’s hard-earned work. I don’t want—at least not at this time—for more people to know. Do you understand?”

“Completely. It’s your intellectual property, after all.”

Daisy was smart; she didn’t need lengthy explanations.

“I’m happy to help as a performer, but my talents are more suited to the stage, aren’t they? If you want me to do magic, I might not be up to it!”

“Exactly. You just need to be beautiful and charming—so dazzling that the audience can’t take their eyes off you, all of them envying Lekang, wondering, ‘How did he get a girl like that? She’s a treasure! What’s her name?’”

At this, Daisy’s eyes shone with longing.

Like so many girls chasing dreams in Hollywood, she yearned for fame, fantasizing about waking up one day with bodyguards at her side, paparazzi in pursuit, cameras clicking, and her name splashed across the headlines.

Though she was just a stage actress, who knew? Maybe someday she’d catch a film role. But first, she needed visibility—she needed people to recognize her strengths.

Seeing the moment was right, Li Lekang said, “Honestly, it’s fine if you learn the secrets, as long as you keep them to yourself. After all, you’re not trying to become a magician.”

Daisy realized it was time to show her stance. She looked him straight in the eye, very serious. “Even if I happen to see something, I would never tell anyone. I could swear to God!”

“No, no, darling, you don’t need to swear to God.”

Li Lekang thought to himself, That’s useless; swearing to my nemesis is pointless.

He corrected her, “Just swear to me. And I’ll give you a contract—something to make absolutely sure.”

“In exchange, you’ll get what you want—stage time, exposure, and maybe more career opportunities. Like Simon today—he owns a circus group. If there’s a chance, I can recommend you.”

“All you have to do is sign your name on this agreement.”

With a flourish, Li Lekang produced a parchment scroll from his pocket.

His voice was enchanting, his smile brimming with confidence. “Once you sign, you’ll have everything I’ve promised. Will you do it?”

Daisy was momentarily taken aback by the scene, but the allure of those promises made her dizzy with excitement. Without much thought, as if bewitched, she took the pen and signed her name with a flourish.

Li Lekang smiled in satisfaction, put the scroll away, and said, “All right, darling. Welcome to my team. Now let’s talk seriously about our future together!”