Chương 65: Chapter XVIII — The Key to Peace & Vengeance

As the thrill of the hunt dissipated, Galan heard the street chatter once more. He was in front of the notice board that explained the dangers of the rope-blocked path ahead, one that he stepped onto without hesitation.

"Excuse me, Sir Samurai!" a voice called from behind.

"That place is forbidden at night!" Galan turned. Two young men stood there, their arms full of festival merchandise.

"It's okay," Galan said, flashing a reassuring smile.

"I'm an investigator looking into the 'Vengeful Spirit' case. I need to ask the yookai what they know."

"Ah…" The men exchanged fearful glances.

"Understood, sir. We will leave you to your investigation." They hurried away.

"They seem to be having fun," Galan murmured. He turned back to the forest, listening to the chirps and croaks of the wildlife. A breeze rustled the leaves, shaking them off their branches to cover him in a cascade of serene whispers. He then crossed a small river, jumping on the visible rocks with alternating legs like he used to when he was younger. Once back on solid ground, he sighed, releasing a whole day's worth of exhaustion in a single breath. If only everyone could get along…

then I would've spent most of my nights in forests like these. He looked down. But saving the world wasn't so bad. If it wasn't me, no one else would have helped them. After close to a minute more of walking, his mindcast sensed a fox approaching him. He stopped and waited for the creature to show himself. After a while, he noticed a large snout and a pair of reflective slits peeking through the dense underbrush.

"Come here, don't be shy," Galan said gently.

"I won't bite." Feeling reassured, the fox walked around the plants and bushes, creating staggered, crackling rustles. Once he appeared, he held up his front-right paw as he struggled to walk forward. He has a base of pristine white fur, but across his back and three tails are elegant, swirling patterns of rich gold, as if a master calligrapher had painted gusts of wind onto the creature's coat. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Galan approached the poor fox, kneeling and taking the injured paw.

"Looks bad," he said. He channeled his lifecast, the tissues knitting back together in a swift and seamless manner, causing the fox to let out a happy squeal.

"You know," Galan smiled, releasing the paw, "there are better ways to test someone's kindness than biting yourself." The fox stumbled back, ears flattening.

"You discerned my intention?!" his mind-voice demanded.

"What, am I supposed to just accept that a fox with a fancy pattern suddenly shows up and approaches me? And somehow injured himself at the same time?" The fox sighed, his posture straightening into one of dignity.

"Very well. I concede the point. Such a simplistic examination was evidently wasted upon someone of your experience."

"What was the goal? Making sure I'm not a threat to the humans?" The fox froze. Satanvubo, didn't even need my mindcast for that, Galan thought.

"Look, I'm here on behalf of the foreign councils to investigate the ghosts," he said.

"I wish no harm to the people of Japan." The fox studied him for a moment.

"Understood. Though my trust has not been earned, I shall permit you the opportunity to do so, Traveler."

"So what now? You gonna go back to your hideout and wait for the next guy?" The fox grimaced. This human child… is no ordinary person… what is he? He tried to reconcile the most enigmatic creature he has ever laid eyes on, only to surrender to the confusion, accepting the child's incomprehensible nature as he sighed.

"If you do not wish for my help," the fox continued, "then I shall leave."

"Alright," Galan smirked, crossing his arms.

"Got anything about them then?" The fox nodded slowly, sitting down and wrapping his tails around himself.

"Indeed, I do. The spirits you search for are akin to an illusion. They have appeared for twenty years, yet none has found their lair or seen their true form. We have found no tracks, no spiritual residue, not even a single displaced leaf to mark its passage past the scene of each incident." He shook his head.

"It is as if the entity only exists in the moment it wishes to judge the guilty. It manifests, enacts its brutal judgment, and then recedes from the world completely, leaving only a broken body in its wake… sometimes living, sometimes not, but often bearing wounds of horrific, deliberate cruelty."

"Any cases where someone was decapitated with only minor wounds to the body?" Galan asked.

"Yes," the fox replied, his gaze sharpening.

"A single, clean cut. Their own katana is often found nearby, its blade chipped and nicked, and the ground around them is scarred with deep indents, suggesting a fierce battle did indeed occur." So the reports were true. But why kill the warriors? To remove a proven threat to the innocents from the equation? That's what I'd do… but this is overly complicated…

"Traveler," the fox interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"This is not a matter for a brief conversation on an open path. Let us speak as we walk to my abode."

"Good idea." Galan nodded.

"We're wasting time here."