Chapter 18: The Investigators
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation.
Back again—back to that curious and unsettling place known as Boundary City.
Not so long ago, this city had seemed enormous, ghostly, and unnerving to Yu Sheng. Yet now, as he took in the familiar glow of streetlamps and the sight of old buildings, as he watched the pale dawn light spill over the streets, he felt something he never would have expected: a strange longing that almost felt like homesickness.
It was odd to think that after being trapped in Night Valley, even returning to Boundary City could feel like coming home.
But no sooner had that gentle feeling settled inside him than it was swept away by a dreadful wave of dizziness—the kind that only strikes when life itself is draining away. He looked down, head heavy, his movements slow and clumsy. Red blood was spreading steadily across the ground at his feet.
His body had been pierced clean through. It was the sort of wound that would be fatal within moments for an ordinary person. Even with the extraordinary resilience and rapid healing that his body possessed now, Yu Sheng understood all too well that he was on the brink of death. Unfortunately, this was becoming a feeling he knew all too well.
The cause of his wound lay right beside him—a scaly, reptilian tail he had sliced off some monstrous creature. It must have fallen through the same gate he had taken to get here. Somehow, the tail still wriggled and stirred, as though clinging to a shred of life or some last trace of thought. It twisted and squirmed in the pooling blood, straining to inch away from him.
Yu Sheng could sense, with a kind of grim amusement, that this severed piece of flesh was trying to escape him. It feared him, even now.
Frowning, he forced himself upright, each movement sending jolts of pain through his body. His home was not too far off. He reached down, seized the twitching tail, and began to stagger forward, one agonizing step after another.
“Aren’t heroes supposed to be fine once they’ve escaped the big crisis?” he muttered between ragged breaths. “Why am I still on the verge of death even after the map’s cleared? What kind of ridiculous rule is that? Damn it, this hurts…”
His blood kept flowing out, making the world blur before his eyes. Every step sapped his strength further. He wasn’t even sure why he was fighting so hard to get home. Maybe he wanted to see Irene’s face. Maybe he just didn’t want to leave his body lying in the street at dawn for some stranger to find.
The world was getting darker at the edges, and the soft morning light turned strangely red. In the fading corners of his mind, he saw Foxy’s golden eyes again, threaded with red, full of hunger and bloodlust. Yet, within that crimson gleam, he’d also glimpsed a tiny flicker of humanity, struggling not to be lost.
He wondered what had become of the fox. She’d said she wouldn’t die. He hoped, in some distant corner of his soul, that this was true.
With Foxy’s face drifting through his mind, Yu Sheng finally reached his front door. It was unlocked, thank goodness. He fumbled clumsily with the handle and pushed it open.
The first thing he saw was the dining room, straight ahead. The oil painting still hung on the wall, just as he remembered. Irene stood before it, turning quickly when she heard him enter. Her eyes widened, first in surprise, then in horror at the sight of him.
Yu Sheng mustered one last, weak smile. “Irene, I’m back,” he managed to say.
He knew how severe his injury was. If not for his new, hardy body, he would have been a corpse on the pavement outside.
Even as he thought that, the world tilted sideways. He slumped heavily against the doorframe and slid down, his vision swallowed by familiar darkness. He heard Irene’s scream, sharp and terrified, echoing in his ears as his consciousness slipped away.
This time, he was dying indoors.
A gentle squeak of brakes broke the stillness at the far end of Wutong Road. Two electric scooters rolled to a stop. Two figures climbed off, looking around carefully at this quiet, old neighborhood.
The first was a middle-aged man who gave off a dependable, steady air. He wore a long, brown coat that fluttered slightly in the breeze. He was tall and solidly built, his skin weathered by sun and time. A small, uneven scar marked the skin near his neck, giving him a tough edge. Yet the tired circles under his eyes—like bruised shadows—suggested he hadn’t had a proper rest in months. His shoulders slumped just a bit, as though carrying a burden no one else could see.
The other was a young man, barely into his twenties, slim and slight. He wore a black-and-blue jacket and matching trousers, and his face was so ordinary you might forget it the moment you looked away. He shifted nervously, like a new recruit who had barely started and was now suddenly tossed into something much bigger than he’d ever imagined.
They stood there in the Old City District, surrounded by plain old buildings that whispered of quiet, ordinary lives. Every so often, a local would pass at the distant end of the street, barely sparing them a glance.
“Nothing unusual around here,” the younger man muttered, his voice uncertain. “Captain Song, are we sure this is the right place?”
“We received a signal from the border earlier,” replied Captain Song, the older man. “The coordinates point to this area. The reading vanished almost immediately, but there was definitely an Otherworld presence.”
The younger man wrinkled his brow. “We rushed all the way over here and still missed it. Maybe we should’ve taken a car instead of these scooters…”
Captain Song shot him a sideways look. “All the cars are out on missions. The only one left was Xu Jiali’s old wreck. You want to drive that? Its top speed couldn’t beat your scooter.”
The younger man gave an awkward little laugh, quickly dropping that line of thought. “Right… Anyway, what about that agent from Fairy Tale—‘Little Red Riding Hood,’ wasn’t it? Didn’t she check this place out too, and find nothing?”
“No, she didn’t find anything. Which makes me even more suspicious,” said Captain Song, nodding slowly. “Little Red Riding Hood has done a lot of work with the Special Task Force. I trust her skills. Her wolves can sniff out even the faintest trace of something unnatural. But she searched all night here, and she came up empty.”
The younger man blinked, not quite understanding.
“She found nothing. Nothing at all,” Captain Song repeated. “It’s too perfectly clean. In the Borderland, no place is ever that clean. Those wolves can always pick up hints of oddness, big or small. But this street seems… normal. Like a vacuum. From a mystical point of view, that’s impossible. There should be something lingering, some trace. But here, it’s as though every scrap of strangeness has been wiped away.”
Now the younger man began to understand. All that training he’d received was starting to fall into place.
“Either this place truly is that pure,” Captain Song continued, rubbing at his tired eyes, “and we’ve stumbled upon a ‘pure zone’ that mirrors the real world exactly—far-fetched, but not impossible in this world—or there’s something enormous at work. Something strong enough to mask all signs, making Little Red Riding Hood’s wolves hit a solid wall of nothing.”
The younger man’s face grew tighter, as though he’d just realized how big the job was.
“I’m not approving a transfer for you, Li Lin,” said Captain Song, glancing at the younger man. “And you can’t switch teams either.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Li Lin said hastily, holding up his hands. “I knew what I was signing up for. I’m not running away. I’m dedicated, loyal—”
A sudden, chirpy ringtone cut him off. It was a cheerful, catchy tune from some popular new show.
Li Lin gave Captain Song a puzzled look. “…You watch that too?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Captain Song’s face twitched with embarrassment. He fished out his phone, muttering, “Must’ve been my daughter who changed it. She’s been into this show lately…” He looked a bit guilty, as if he’d been caught doing something ridiculous.
Li Lin wisely held back any comment on whether a middle-schooler ought to watch a show about a bunch of girls in a band. Instead, he cleared his throat and looked away, pretending he’d never heard that silly ringtone.
Captain Song answered the call, listening quietly for a moment before speaking in a low voice, “Yes, we’re here. Same as what Little Red Riding Hood said. Too clean. Set up a monitoring post. I’ll decide on the staff once I’m back. Also, contact Fairy Tale and see if they can send someone else. This might be a long-term assignment.”
He hung up and let out a weary sigh. Then he noticed Li Lin still looking at him.
“That really was my daughter,” Captain Song said, defending himself. “I don’t watch cartoons.”
“Right. Of course. I believe you,” Li Lin replied, coughing politely into his hand. Both men fell silent for a moment, wisely moving past that awkward topic.
Just then, Li Lin’s gaze caught something. He frowned and moved towards a nearby wall, crouching down in a corner.
“Captain Song, come and look at this!” he called, beckoning.
Captain Song approached, following Li Lin’s gaze. There, at the base of the wall, was a dark, reddish stain—small, easy to miss, and already beginning to fade away as they watched.
It looked like dried blood at first glance, but even as they stared, it was evaporating. Not soaking into the wall, but vanishing into thin air.
“Blood?” Captain Song frowned, immediately pulling out a small plastic vial and a scraper from the pocket of his coat. “No, not blood. Take a sample!”
“On it.” Li Lin reached out with the scraper, careful and steady. But just before the blade touched the strange red mark, the last traces let out the faintest hiss—like a whisper of steam—and disappeared completely, leaving nothing behind at all.