I Became a Witch in a World Full of Urban Legends

Chapter 240: Waiting For Somebody Who Will Never Return

Although [Vaccaria] and [Genius Mahjong Girl] claimed that they were just having a friendly exchange with one another post-review, Zhang Dexian refused to believe their obvious, unjust lies and politely declined their invitation to having morning tea together.

They are obviously not friends whatsoever! Coupled with those eye-catching smiles of theirs…

Leaving the slaughterhouse, he walked alone along the path that was littered with old houses under the wee hours of the morning.

Tapping through his phone with a cracked screen, he clicked on the DM sent by Meow Xiaoqi, and sighed as he read the message.

“Ah… a real beast-of-a-man like me walks alone, but I didn’t expect to gain a new companion…”

Now that he knows the whereabouts of the first Divine Artifact, all he could do was move towards his goal.

One day, our sect of Vajrayana Buddhism will rise again, planting our roots and cementing ourselves back into the world…

No matter how dark the night is, dawn will come once agin!

He looked up into the starry sky above him, and it was as if the face of a kind, old monk could be traced within the constellations. He couldn’t help but shed a few tears, calling out, “Master!”

…

Leaving the slaughterhouse, Lu Yibei tread along the path slowly while fiddling with the core of an urban legend in her hand. It resembled a ball of meat, but strangely, rather than its texture being tender, it was hard like stone.

No matter, it is delicious nonetheless.

She may have thought that the bald, invincible man was weird, but now, she thinks that he is a good person. He got rid of three urban legends on his own, and she walked up to him and shamelessly asked for a core. Unexpectedly, he plopped one of their cores onto her palm.

Eat enough and you’ll become thick… skinned, she thought to herself.

The Witch led the way, while Jiangli trailed behind her like a phantom. From time-to-time, she would look down to read the encrypted files on her phone, while looking back at the slaughterhouse to ensure nothing was following them.

[JULY 14

The King isn’t eating as much anymore, but his weight says otherwise. In fact, the rate at which his weight is increasing is similar to that of last year’s hormonal-period.

I decided to inform the factory director about this, but all I got was a threat that if I ‘stuck my nose in places I shouldn’t be’, I would be fired immediately.

Has he gone insane?

There are people dying, damn it. Their family members have been phoning us and coming to our office demanding for an explanation, and all he could think about is investment, opportunities, profits…! To think he even sent his men to threaten the person’s grandmother to shut up…

Maybe getting fired isn’t as bad as it seems.]

[JULY 21

The King’s weight is far exceeding the expected rate, even when taking into account his previous hormonal-growth period.

The factory director almost got his wish – he received an investment deal earlier today, and he was elated!

However, something happened in the afternoon when he brought the investors over to see the King.

I overheard that, once the King of Pigs Competition was over, the best pigs of the factory would be slaughtered, and a full-pork feast would be held for the investors.

“The best pigs…” if not the King, then who would it be?

The King let out a terrifying howl after the factory director’s statement, slamming his head against the metal fence of his enclosure repeatedly. The investors were so frightened that they turned pale.

And, the fence collapsed.

The unimaginably thick, steel-plates of the fence came crashing down, and the King rushed out of the factory.

Everyone was scrambling to protect the investors, but my attention was on the King, and its attention was on me.

Even from a distance, I could see anger and resentment in those black orbs.

I have been working with pigs for over ten years now, and never have I seen such intense emotions behind those eyes.

It was as if… it was trying to recognize my face. For revenge.

I hope I’m overthinking it.

The factory director scrambled to slaughter all the best pigs in the slaughterhouse, preparing a pork-only feast for the investors, but they left without a single word.

It would be a waste to throw away all this food. Everyone tasted a little, and it was the best thing that anyone has ever tasted.

It was, indeed, the best pig in the factory.]

Jiangli was in a trance as she read through the journal entries when a hand suddenly placed itself on her shoulder. She immediately resisted the urge to elbow the perpetrator, and turned around to be greeted by Yibei’s expressionless face.

“This must be what went down at the slaughterhouse before it turned all… you know. Where did you find this?”

“None of your business.”

“Come on! I thought we were friends now! Won’t we be working together in the future?”

“Nobody said that but you.”

“Come onnnnnn, plus, I might know the old lady who was mentioned in the journal.”

Jiangli’s eyebrow raised, doubtfully asking, “You do?”

“Yup!” Yibei replied, pointing a finger at an old house in the distance that was shrouded in the night at the end of the path, revealing only a vague outline. “She lives there. When I first came here, I bumped into her, and she told me that her grandson went to the slaughterhouse and never came back.”

“And what did you…”

“Oh, me? I thought she was being creepy! I told her that, if her grandson had been missing for several years, she should have reported it to the police instead of telling me!”

“Ah.”

Jiangli wanted to praise her with a firm “Well done,” but because of their currently precarious relationship, she gave a curt response instead.

Gently pushing the hand on her shoulder away, she continued to read the journal entries as they walked down the silent path.

[AUGUST 6

The situation in the factory is worsening.

The investment plan failed, but the factory director still needed a way to pay the due payments for the equipment he ordered – capital turnover problems, it seems.

Of course, that made everyone worried about employee layoffs, but I was more worried about the whereabouts of the King.

When the King escaped from its enclosure, nobody knew where it went.

Some of them claimed that it ran to the mountains during the chaos, but I don’t think it left – no, it’s probably hiding in a deep, dark corner of the slaughterhouse.

Because from that day onwards, I could feel a pair of eyes staring at me.

Lifeless, colourless eyes, like spotlights that stared at you in the sky, day and night… they never closed, only to blink, and they never held much emotion in them.

I saw those eyes, and they were exactly like the King’s.

It watches over us, and it wants revenge.

Washing up last night before leaving work, I discovered pig fur in the bathroom which resembled the King’s coat of fur.]

[AUGUST 13

I knew it! The King is still hiding in the slaughterhouse!

And I can prove it!

Many employees have heard strange, yet soft sounds that emanated within the factory.

It was weak, barely audible, but it would always resemble the pained squeals of a pig, or somebody mumbling to themselves.

Somebody claimed they saw a huge, black shadow hovering over the dormitory building, studying the employees that slept through the windows. Nobody noticed until he woke up from a nightmare, seeing a big, swine-like face outside his window.

Like a pale, black cloud that was alive.

The pigs in the slaughterhouse would become manic once in a while, attacking employees from time-to-time, as if guided by some strange, otherworldly force.

Everyone blamed it on the weather, but I know that it must the King’s doing.

The other day, I went to see the pigs in their pens, and their eyes…

Frightened, angry, pleading… human.]

[AUGUST 15

The King, it appeared!

It attacked an employee that was once its keeper!

When we found Yuichi, blood shot out of his mouth, and there were several teeth-like holes that bled on the side of his face. His ear was missing, and a strip of flesh was torn off from his cheek alongside it.

Three of his fingers were violently bit through, revealing bone.

When he was finally conscious again, he was asked what exactly he had encountered.

He was silent, but he started to breathe heavily, before yelling, “Pig! Pig! Pig…!”

As he yelled, he stared straight forward, looking past his worried colleagues, as if his gaze met with something that cannot be seen with the naked eye.

Was the King there with us?

However, he later claimed that somebody tall and burly had attacked him.

I don’t know the truth anymore.]

[AUGUST 20

The missing reports of our employees have been stacking up recently, and the factory director, in secret, sent men out to search for the King.

Huacheng is known to have many underground bunkers built during the war with the Japanese. When the underground subway system was built, these bunkers were dug out, however, some remained.

Rumour has it that the sewers of the slaughterhouse is connected to one of these bunkers.

I… shouldn’t have suggested them to look into the sewer. They never came back.]

[SEPTEMBER 13

We’re losing more and more people.

We can no longer afford to manage the pens with how little workers we have, and the pigs were starving. They killed and devoured each other, and the slaughterhouse reeks with the scent of blood and metal.

I told the factory director that we needed to hire more workers if we wanted to continue, so I brought in three new employees – big, burly, fully capable of doing the jobs we needed them to do.]

[SEPTEMBER 21

It’s just me and the director now.]

All that was left was an audio file, but before Jiangli could tap on it, the Witch’s voice floated straight into her ear.

“There’s something wrong with these journal entries – this person said that the King was the best pig they had in the slaughterhouse, but went on to say the they killed the best pig to attract investors. Then, the King was allegedly still around hiding in the factory. Isn’t it weird? Like, they’ve eaten it, so where else could it be hiding? In their bellies?”

As she spoke, Yibei recalled the half-human, half-pig urban legend she saw in the slaughterhouse, with teratomas littered across his body.

“You’re right,” Jiangli murmured. “After all, the King was a pig that was fed with alchemical potions, so it’s difficult to guarantee that it won’t be causing problems after a human consumes its flesh. If one of them was weak in the mind, more problems would arise.”

After she was done talking, she finally noticed that the Witch was still clinging to her.

“I thought you said you had other business to attend to. Why are you still here?”

The Witch simply shrugged. “We’re probably taking the same path back. Nothing weird or suspicious about it.”

“The same path, you say.”

“Yeah. The same path.”

“The same path that leads straight towards the Huacheng Folk Culture Research Administration? Want me to give you a ride?”

“Ah,” the Witch blinked. “Okay, not entirely the same path.”

Jiangli rolled her eyes, tapping onto the audio file.

[slaughterhouse.mp3

“…What are you talking about?! That pig died long ago, didn’t it?! We slaughtered it just for the feast, and you took a bite too!”

“No, director. The King was and is always here. You can’t see it, but it was always watching.”

“F-fuck you! T-this is all your fault, isn’t it?! I just know it! All these disappearances, and… wait! What are you… no… don’t come any closer, or I swear I’ll-”]

The audio file immediately erupted into a violent scream, and the sounds of flesh being torn apart could be heard. All that was left within the audio file was the sound of gurgling, flesh being torn, and the squeals of a pig.

Skipping forward through the 30-minute long audio file which had nothing left but repeated gurgling and chewing sounds, she frowned, and the Witch next to her brightened up as if she had come to a conclusion.

“I get it now! The owner of the journal entries ate the pork contaminated with the alchemy potions, and became an urban legend himself! The journal entries and audio files are the result of him transforming into one!”

“But…” the Witch paused before continuing. “Somebody once told me that urban legends are powered by belief. In just a few months, powered by nothing but the employees of the slaughterhouse… is it really enough for the urban legend to exist?”

Jiangli raised an eyebrow at Yibei, and explained, “If a catalyst exists, for example, an alchemy potion, belief will no longer be the primary factor for an urban legend to persist. In fact, the urban legends in the slaughterhouse weren’t strong at first – gradually, as the rumours about the slaughterhouse spread across the city, they became stronger.”

“And…” Jiangli continued. “The theory that belief births an urban legend is a well-kept secret in the Night Division – it is not well-known and not widely circulated. How did you come to know this?”

…what the fuck? I thought we already knew our true identities! Why are you still teasing me?!

“My mentor taught me, okay?”

Jiangli’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was holding in a grin, “How interesting that even Witches like you have mentors. Tell me – what kind of mentor do you have?”

“Ah… uh… nothing like you!” the Witch scrambled. “I-I’ll have you know my mentor is like chocolate – cute, beautiful, and everything! Nuwa, the Mother Goddess Herself must have put all of her energy into making my mentor! She could look good wearing nothing! Or even just a sack!”

“…okay.”

“That’s what I’m saying! If she wears a sack, then every single person in the world would start wearing sacks! When I look at her, it is like looking at the dewy mist and drizzle that paints a grand mountain in the background – the rain would fall between my eyebrows, and it’ll be like spring. I would be enlightened, I would know right and wrong, I would remember progress, I would remember my own feeble humanity, I would let others remember their own humanity, I would…”

“…”

In the next two minutes or so, the Witch continued to ramble on and on, spewing out colourful words of grandeur for her so-called urban-legend-mentor.

Okay! That must have balanced out all my bad karma!

The Witch could swear that the girl before her was blushing, but it didn’t seem like she was reacting at all.

Jiangli waited until she stopped babbling and yapping, then nodded and asked, “Anything else?”

Tsk! You just want to hear me talk good about you! I have nothing else to say – unless you want me to say that you have great child-birthing hips, and I don’t want to die just yet!

“…nope. Nothing else.”

“She sounds like a greeeaat teacher. I hope you study hard under her, and not cause any unnecessary trouble.” Jiangli nodded.

She ended up adding more praises for herself… so shameless!

…

It was the darkest hour, and the ambient temperature was at its lowest point.

This is usually when urban legends are most active, but the countryside about a kilometre away from the slaughterhouse was cold and lifeless, with only dead leaves that fluttered in the air.

Wandering through a dusty alley with shabby buildings scattered around the area, under a lonely streetlight closest to the path that leads to the slaughterhouse, its pale light fell upon a haggard, old lady.

She supported herself against the lamppost and her cane, standing alone in the darkest of night. Her cloudy eyes blinked towards the barely-visible outline of the slaughterhouse in the distance, waiting for her grandson to return.

God damn it.

Yibei frowned as she walked down the path. Standing in front of the old woman, she asked her an all-too-familiar question, “Have you seen my grandson? If you see him, tell him to come home…”

However, Yibei no longer felt that she was creepy. Instead, she felt a little bit of pity for the old woman.

The Witch opened her lips, but hesitated. She didn’t know how to break it to her that her grandson had died a few years ago, and that she would be waiting for somebody who would never come back.

At this moment, Jiangli stepped forward, and stretched her finger out, which was imbued with a silver-white light. She flicked at the old woman’s forehead, and with a soft voice, spoke.

“Your grandson has passed away. You do not have to worry about him anymore – even if you wait, he will never come back.”

“What are you-?!” Yibei was stunned, then grabbed at Jiangli’s shoulders. “You can’t just-”

“Look at her,” Jiangli said with a cool, calm tone.

It was as if the old woman was enlightened, and she began to murmur to herself, “Oh, is that so…? Thank you… I suppose it is time for me to leave…”

As the old woman spoke, her body began to fall to the ground, like viscous mud.

The Witch immediately held her hand out, but retracted it when she felt how stiff and cold the old woman’s hands were.

She was dead for a long time. There was no life coursing through her pale, bone-y hands.

Immediately, her corpse began to wither before them.

“She too, has passed away a long time ago,” Jiangli patted the Witch’s shoulder. “The only reason she’s still around is because of her lingering attachments to see her grandson come home. In a sense, she is an urban legend without a stable form – if we don’t break the truth to her, over time, her legend will spread across the area, and the remaining residents of this place will suffer.”

“You may be kind,” Jiangli explained. “But being too blinded by your kindness is simply stupidity, and that stupidity can backfire on you! It seems that you and your mentor have a lot of things to learn – you mustn’t be this stupid in the future!”

What the fuck?!

TRANSLATOR NOTES:

Extra long chapter today! And woah, that was a lot to take in – I do enjoy these journal entries/entries in the Night Division Records because they give such rich worldbuilding to the story! Do you feel the same way? I’ll be glad to hear if that’s the case!

As always, you can support me at /slicedbreadsbakery! Any amount helps to support the translation!