Chapter One: The Ghost and the Footprints (Seeking first subscriptions!)

After taking his leave of the county magistrate, Zhou Yan took the map of Mount Ogasa that had been given to him and left the county seat at once with Oboro.

“Master Yan, it’s almost dark. Shouldn’t we rest for the night?” Oboro asked curiously as she kept close to his steps.

“There’s no need.” Zhou Yan glanced back at her. “That magistrate said it himself: even the professionals from the Ghost-Slayer Bureau didn’t come at once. That means they don’t think this First Hurdle Tethr is much of a threat. Since I’m here already, I might as well see for myself what level of yokai something like this is.”

As he said that, a faintly amused smile touched Zhou Yan’s face.

Fortunately, his mental strength was formidable. During their conversation he had noticed that the magistrate’s expression was off, so he had left his malice locusts in the courtyard. As expected, they had overheard even more secrets.

So that white-robed, black-cloaked man was one of the legendary Ghost-Slayer Bureau, was he? Why did he seem to harbor such a deep grudge against Oboro Ryu?

And what, exactly, was the other great demon hidden on Mount Ogasa?

Zhou Yan felt a little helpless. Why had those two not exchanged a few more words once no one else was around? It had been impossible for him to gather more information.

On the other side, hearing Zhou Yan’s analysis, Oboro suddenly understood.

“I see,” she said obediently, following after him without further doubt.

Master Yan really thinks of everything. Unlike me, whose head is always muddled.

The two of them talked as they walked, and the sky gradually darkened.

Fortunately, tonight the moon was kind: bright and clear, with not a cloud in the vast heavens, bathing the outskirts in silvery light.

There was no need for torches to see well.

But once they entered the mountain, everything changed. The moonlight was blocked by the forest. Aside from the road itself, which remained somewhat bright, the thickets on either side immediately became pitch-black.

“The moonlight tonight is beautiful,” Zhou Yan remarked as he walked along the mountain path, looking up at the drifting moon. He now possessed formidable skills and many hidden trump cards, and with talent to match his boldness, he was not afraid of much.

By contrast, the girl who wielded the so-called unrivaled Oboro-style swordsmanship was now trembling as she clutched his sleeve, looking nervously left and right.

In a low, wavering voice, she asked, “Master Yan, w-what are those green lights?”

“Green lights?” Zhou Yan followed the direction of her finger and saw countless tiny green flames drifting among the dark woods on both sides of the road.

“Oh, those are phosphorescent flames. They’re born from the remains of people or animals after death. Some people also call them ghost fires.”

He had been explaining casually, but his face stiffened mid-sentence.

On Earth, in that materialist world, ghost fires were of course just phosphorus flames.

But this was not Earth. This was ancient Japan, a place where monsters and demons were part of the setting.

Were ghost fires still merely a common scientific phenomenon here?

As he was thinking this, the countless ghost fires had already begun to float out from both sides of the forest, gathering together before their eyes.

At last, the converging lights formed a phantom clad in a white, translucent feather robe. A triangular headcloth covered its brow, and on its deathly pale face were a pair of cold, resentment-filled eyes.

The phantom emitted a mournful, eerie female wail, then pointed at Zhou Yan and Oboro. Instantly, a mass of green ghost fire drifted slowly toward them.

“No way, this world really has ghosts!?”

Zhou Yan felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Back on Earth, though he had been a proper young man of the new era, he had grown up hearing plenty of ghost stories. He had also watched many classic horror films.

Truth be told, what he found most frightening were not chainsaw maniacs or zombies, but those hopelessly unresolved Chinese and Japanese-style horror films.

For instance, things like the cursed village, the midnight ring, or the chant of death.

A million zombies could not compare to a pair of embroidered shoes appearing out of nowhere at your doorstep.

He was not afraid of things with a body. What he feared were these drifting apparitions.

So, the instant that ghost appeared, Zhou Yan had already summoned his Calamity Lotus Curse Sword. Unlucky miasma flames burst to life along its blade.

Beside him, Oboro reacted in the same way. The moment the enemy appeared, she had already cast aside her fear and drawn her own katana, which gleamed with a demonic light infused with yokai power.

Facing the mass of ghost fire surging toward them, the two of them both retreated cautiously while swiftly cutting at the spirits with the blades in their hands.

With a soft hiss, Zhou Yan saw the ghost fire vanish instantly beneath the strike of his black-flame sword, and at once his heart settled a little. Good—as long as it worked.

What one feared most when dealing with these apparitions was that they might be impervious, impossible to communicate with, and still able to kill even if one fled.

Now that his methods were effective, things became much easier.

He glanced back, confirming that Oboro’s demon blade could also repeatedly disperse the ghost fire, and then he charged confidently toward the phantom.

The ghost seemed to realize his intent. The ghost fire contracted, gathering in great density to block his path.

The sky of ghost flames looked imposing enough, but—

Zhou Yan curled his lips. The curse-flames on the sword in his hand surged violently, completely swallowing the narrow blade until it was almost transformed into a great black-flamed saber.

All show and no substance.

He did not slow. The black-flamed saber swept out at astonishing speed, and wherever the eerie green fire was brushed by those black flames, it vanished as though an eraser had wiped ink from paper.

The next second, Zhou Yan’s sword-wielding figure burst through the wall of fire made of ghost flames, shooting forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

In an instant he closed on the phantom, and the black-flamed saber followed with a lightning-fast vertical strike.

Slash.

The phantom was cut cleanly in two.

The black-flamed saber split it without the slightest hindrance.

Though Zhou Yan felt no sensation of having struck physical flesh, he saw with his own eyes that the phantom could not even open its mouth to scream before it was completely burned away by that ominous black fire.

[Defeated "Phantom," gained 112 Spirit]

At the place where the phantom had been reduced to ash, a single ghost fire lingered for a moment before thinning rapidly.

Zhou Yan immediately reached out with his left arm and touched it.

[Phantom]

[Type: Remnant Soul]

[Description: A thing formed when a person burdened by the influence of calamity dies with intense hatred. It can command ghost fire. It has no physical body and almost completely ignores pure physical damage, but it fears powerful energy and mental attacks.]

[Rank: 0-star, 1st tier]

[Attributes: Physique 0, Sensitivity 7, Spirit 10]

[Note: I hate it so much!]

What a distinctive monster.

To be honest, though this phantom’s attributes were nothing to write home about, Zhou Yan still felt a twinge of interest and wanted to collect it as material.

The other points were secondary. What truly caught his eye was one of the phantom’s traits: its formidable resistance to physical damage.

If he fused a life-form suit with a phantom, he might gain the ability to become non-corporeal. Just imagining it suggested plenty of wicked tricks he could pull.

Only, its rank was far too low.

After a slight hesitation, the ghost-fire cluster gave him no time to think any further and quickly dissolved into the air.

He sighed and withdrew his left arm.

So be it. He had only been considering it anyway.

Each descent into the Calamity Realm allowed only one chance to record or replace a material. Wasting that on a low-tier material of uncertain inheritance value was, frankly, too inefficient.

Oboro hurried up from behind. After Zhou Yan slew the phantom, the ghost fire entangling her had also completely dispersed.

“Master Yan, are you hurt?” Seeing Zhou Yan pass through the wall made of ghost fire with her own eyes, Oboro could not help but worry.

“I’m fine.” Zhou Yan shook his head. “It looks frightening, but it’s actually quite weak. If you were the one dealing with it, Oboro, you could have destroyed it easily enough.”

He smiled. “Who knows how many other demons and monsters are still in these mountains? Let’s be extra careful from here on and keep looking for that First Hurdle Tethr.”

The two continued along the mountain road and soon reached a marked point on the map.

A fork in the road with a signpost.

Zhou Yan took out the map, checked it while walking, and casually asked the girl guarding alertly beside him, “Oboro, what exactly kind of monster is this First Hurdle Tethr?”

Oboro frowned, thinking for a moment at his question. “I’ve never seen one either, but I heard the elders in the village talk about it. They said it was a terrifying yokai that sometimes appears in deep mountain forests. It leaves enormous, distinctive one-footed footprints on mountain paths or forest trails people use. If some foolhardy person follows those one-footed tracks to see what strange creature made them, they die horribly.”

“One-footed footprints,” Zhou Yan muttered, putting away the map. He turned his head to survey the surroundings, then walked toward one direction.

A moment later, he came to a stop and let out a faintly surprised sound.

“Well now. If those are footprints, they’re certainly huge.”

In the ground before him was a massive footprint, at least two meters long and more than a meter wide. Looking ahead, he could see the same print appearing every three or four meters, stretching all the way into the depths of the forest.

Oboro caught up, her face full of shock. “Such enormous footprints!?”

Then worry crept into her expression. “If even its feet are that big, then just how exaggerated must the true body of this First Hurdle Tethr be, Master Yan? Maybe we should head back.”

“Oboro, there’s no need to be afraid.” Zhou Yan smiled. “Your master is quite formidable, you know.”

With that, he quickened his pace and advanced in the direction of the creature’s tracks.

“Wait for me, sir!” The girl hurried after him, sword in hand.

The two pursued the tracks through the dense forest. Along the way, several more ghosts and little imps appeared, but all were slain one by one. In the process, Zhou Yan also obtained another physique rune factor.

He promptly fitted it on the spot. His rune count reached seven; he only needed three more to advance his life-form suit to the next tier.

However, considering that he did not need to waste too many special runes, it would still be better to replace them with more basic attributes for a higher return.

Zhou Yan’s eyes shone with desire.

He hoped the monsters ahead would be plentiful and fierce enough to let him achieve his goal of advancing tonight.

He had already made a preliminary summary of the reward pattern his golden finger gave him for killing enemies.

For trash mobs of 0th tier, the drop rate was extremely low. If luck was bad, even killing one hundred of the same kind within the golden finger’s limit might not yield a single rune. And once the number slain exceeded one hundred, the drop rate might as well have been zero.

For 1st-tier underlings, there was a chance to drop rune factors, but so far only the three basic attributes—physique, sensitivity, and spirit—had appeared. No other runes had dropped, though they could also yield small items such as miniature life essence.

2nd-tier elite monsters usually dropped special runes such as curse and blessing, and most importantly, they could drop rune circuit cores. If luck was good, they might even drop special equipment like the Ghost Spider Spindle - Modified, just as the spider leader had in the previous world.

As for 3rd-tier monsters, he had only encountered one so far: the final monster of the previous world, the Malice Locust. After killing it, he had received four runes and one core. Since the sample size was too small, it remained unclear whether other things could also drop.

As long as tonight’s opponent was at the same tier as the Malice Locust, he could easily achieve his goal of upgrading the life-form suit.

***

Third update