Chapter 21: The First Time is Strange, The Second Time is Familiar
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation.
From the very moment Yu Sheng learned about the existence of the “Otherworld” and discovered the enormous “Boundary City”—this vast, special place known as the “Borderland”—he couldn’t help but wonder about the kind of people who dealt with these eerie happenings. Surely there were those who weren’t just lone wanderers or mysterious experts hidden away in corners of the world, but proper organizations with official systems in place.
Irene had hinted as much: people trained to handle these strange affairs usually didn’t reveal themselves to ordinary folks. The Otherworld was so far beyond common sense and reason that it felt like countless tiny holes poked into the otherwise solid mountain of reality. Most people lived their entire lives without peering into these cracks. Yet, if someone ever did catch a glimpse—just a shadow slipping out—it could change their life forever. There would be no going back.
Irene had shared these truths with him early on. From her warnings, Yu Sheng gathered that anyone dealing with the Otherworld would do everything possible to keep regular people far away—even if that meant hiding their own existence. Still, if something went wrong, he imagined these professionals would have their own methods of handling it.
Looking out through the window, Yu Sheng studied the quiet, empty street. His heart grew uneasy. “Honestly,” he said aloud, “how long do these ‘professionals’ usually take to show up?”
Irene, hugging her teddy bear while rocking gently in her little chair inside the painting’s frame, shrugged. “I’m not really sure. My memory’s all fuzzy,” she admitted with a mischievous twinkle in her crimson eyes. “But I think they’re usually pretty quick. They’ve set up all kinds of ways to sense unusual events. The entire Borderland should be under their watch. At least, that’s how it was before I got sealed. By now, I’m sure their methods have improved.”
Yu Sheng’s eyes drifted toward Irene, who sat there with her doll, painting a picture of an unseen world.
“Then again,” Irene went on, sounding less certain, “they’re only human. Sometimes even professionals might be slow to react. Maybe this time they just haven’t noticed anything yet—though it really did seem noisy enough…”
Yu Sheng frowned. “This doesn’t inspire much confidence,” he said with a sigh. “If, as you say, this whole house is part of the Otherworld, then where are they? I’m starting to doubt these so-called experts. In the end, it seems I can’t rely on them. I’ll have to manage on my own.”
Irene blinked, looking rather surprised. “R-really? So, what’s your plan? Are you actually going to handle that valley and the thing lurking inside it again?”
“It’s not that I want to deal with it,” Yu Sheng replied, tugging at the corner of his mouth, “but I can sense that it won’t let me go. Sooner or later, it’ll come back for me. After all, didn’t you say once you’ve touched the Otherworld, you can’t turn back? Besides,” he added, thinking about that chilling rain and the eerie frog trapped within, “I’ve probably been involved with the Otherworld for much longer than you think.”
Irene nodded slowly, choosing her words carefully. “Well, you do have a point. A lot of people who work with the Otherworld started out as unlucky bystanders who just got caught up in it. I’d say only about one in ten end up surviving and eventually becoming the experts you’re thinking of—either by their own choice or because they had no other option. It’s like having something unclean follow you around…”
Yu Sheng raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Only one in ten? What happens to the other nine? Do they get to go back to normal?”
Irene leaned back and looked at the ceiling of her painted world. “They die.”
Yu Sheng fell silent, pressing his lips together.
Irene hurriedly tried to soften the blow. “Some do get rescued every year!” she added quickly. “It’s just that… well, more people die than don’t.”
“Irene,” Yu Sheng said, fixing his gaze on the doll in the painting.
“Y-yeah?” she stammered.
“If you can’t say something encouraging,” he said, sighing, “maybe don’t say anything at all.”
“R-right…” Irene mumbled, clutching her teddy bear a bit tighter.
Yu Sheng slowly pushed himself up from the dining table, his mind churning. “It doesn’t really matter if I live or die,” he said plainly, “but I do need to find a way to learn more about this Otherworld. Since those professionals haven’t shown up, I’ll have to go looking for them myself. No offense, but your memory and experience aren’t exactly reliable.”
Irene didn’t seem offended. In fact, she seemed almost cheerful, as if the idea excited her. “So, you’re going out to search for them? That might not be easy, but maybe you can spot some signs. Sometimes they leave hidden messages—like a sort of secret advertisement—on telephone poles or such. They might look like ordinary signs, but once someone has encountered the Otherworld, they gain a sort of special vision. They might notice symbols or hidden clues that normal people can’t see.”
Yu Sheng narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re serious?”
Irene nodded, her expression unusually earnest as she studied him. “I am serious. Folks like you, who have brushed against the Otherworld and lived to tell the tale, often develop what I’d call a ‘spiritual awareness.’ It’s subtle, but you start noticing things you never did before.” Irene paused, tilting her head. “Haven’t you felt any changes in yourself?”
Changes? Yu Sheng’s heart skipped a beat. He thought about his own strange experiences. He asked quietly, “You mean changes like super strength, instant healing, mind-reading, or even coming back from the dead?”
Irene stared at him as though he were sprouting horns. “What? No, nothing that wild. Mostly you just start seeing things. You’re still human. Let’s not go imagining we’ve jumped species. Honestly, maybe you’ve been reading too many fantasy stories.”
Yu Sheng fell silent, not pressing the point. Something about his situation felt more unusual than what Irene described. But Irene hadn’t picked up on it—probably because she’d been sealed away for too long and couldn’t piece it all together. For now, he wouldn’t argue.
He let out a slow breath and turned his gaze toward the kitchen. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a faint smile and started walking in that direction.
Irene hopped out of her tiny painted chair. “Hey, are you going to make breakfast?” she asked, excitement lighting up her eyes, even though she, as a doll, couldn’t really eat.
Yu Sheng wondered why she always got so cheerful at mealtime. “I’m going to deal with that ‘specialty’ I just brought back,” he said, not looking back.
Irene swung her teddy bear by its arm as if waving goodbye. “Oh, go ahead, then…” she said casually. But then her eyes widened, and something clicked in her mind.
Wait, what specialty would someone bring back from the Otherworld?
“Hold on!” Irene shrieked, and Yu Sheng actually twitched at the sudden scream, his hand on the kitchen door. “What kind of specialty do you mean?!”
Yu Sheng paused, then turned his head slightly and offered a small, unreadable smile. “Take a guess.”
Irene’s eyes went wide as she watched Yu Sheng tie an apron around his waist. Her expression was somewhere between astonishment and horror. “W-wait! You can’t be serious!” she gasped. “You’re not actually going to… Did you really get something off that creature?! How would you even manage that if you’re just an ordinary person? Are you seriously about to—?”
Before she could finish, Yu Sheng calmly closed the kitchen door, cutting off Irene’s panicked shouts.
From behind the closed door, he could still hear her muffled voice. “Hey! Don’t shut the door on me! At least help me fix the TV before you start cooking! I can’t watch anything now!”
But Yu Sheng focused on his task, ignoring her.
He approached the sink and removed the lid from the pot where he’d hidden the “tail”—that strange piece of flesh he had brought back. Now that it was out, it was eerily quiet, though its muscles still twitched every so often.
Staring at it, Yu Sheng felt that same odd hunger inside him, rising from deep within. This time, though, it wasn’t as wild or uncontrollable as before. It felt more like a gentle nudge, a curious craving, rather than a desperate need. He realized with a start that he actually looked forward to tasting it, as if it were some culinary adventure.
He asked himself if he was still normal. Was this kind of behavior normal for anyone? Probably not. But none of those thoughts made him waver.
He reached for a bundle of green onions, some ginger, and a bottle of cooking wine. He prepared a cutting board and a sharp knife. Then he cleaned the tail under running water, carefully scraping off its rough scales. Once it was fresh and ready, he placed it on the board and sliced through it down the middle. Surprisingly, the knife glided through easily, even though the tail had once seemed as hard as stone when attached to that monster.
There was no bone inside, just firm flesh. Yu Sheng recalled how his body had changed each time he bit into that creature’s flesh. The first time, he felt stronger. The second time, he noticed another, smaller improvement. He wondered: what would happen this time if he cooked it properly?
As he diced the tail into smaller chunks, he felt oddly cheerful. Irene’s muffled cries from outside the kitchen seemed distant and unimportant now. He might not understand if this was “normal,” but since he’d already done something similar before—biting that monstrous flesh raw—this felt less shocking. Almost ordinary.
“The first time is strange…” he whispered to himself as he dropped the pieces into a waiting bowl, “but the second time is familiar.”