I Became a Witch in a World Full of Urban Legends

12:02 p.m.

Inside a sports car leaving The Midnight Watchers Society’s headquarters in Shengjing, Golden Toad growled into his phone.

“…This is an assignment from the Dark Emperor. It’s on the same level as the God of Wealth’s mission…”

“They won’t cooperate? Do they not understand plain language? I just said to do whatever it takes! If they refuse, short their stock and have every financial institution under our control cut ties with them. In short, play as dirty as you can. Understood?”

“All right, we’ll discuss the rest when I get back!”

With that, Golden Toad ended the call forcefully.

12:08 p.m.

Pashupati Temple, India.

The sprawling temple complex was built against the mountainside. Its main structure was a symmetrical Nepalese pagoda temple topped with a two-tiered golden sloping roof. Numerous smaller buildings with silver roofs surrounded it like stars encircling the moon.

Dedicated to Shiva, the god of destruction, the temple contained six enormous cremation platforms where devotees from the surrounding region held open-air cremations. Sacrificial rituals of varying sizes took place there almost every day.A ritual had just ended. The air still carried the strange mingled odor of spices and charred flesh from the burning bodies. An old man, thin and aged in appearance yet with eyes as clear as stars, left the cremation platforms and returned to his quarters.

He had only just sat down inside the secluded hut far from the main temple when he sensed something amiss. Frowning, he searched around until he saw a face he loathed beyond measure reflected in the golden lotus basin filled with clear water. His aged features immediately twisted into the expression of someone who had seen a ghost.

Zhang Huainan.

The man had once planted himself in the temple and refused to leave, launching surprise attacks on random members of the temple at unpredictable hours, day and night.

All because one of the temple’s inherited Spirit Patterns, Mahoraga, bore some similarities to the Water Lord Spirit Pattern Zhang Huainan possessed at the time. It could even serve as one possible direction for Water Lord’s advancement.

Zhang Huainan had reached a bottleneck back then and urgently needed to absorb the strengths of other traditions. Since he needed an “exchange,” he came to the temple—and stayed for three years…

Everyone at the temple had suffered terribly during those three years. The old man, who had inherited the temple’s Spirit Pattern, had suffered several times as much as anyone else.

The methods of torment passed down through Qing Ji’s lineage were no joke.

Without the slightest exaggeration, whenever the old man lifted his blanket before going to sleep during those three years, all he saw was Zhang Huainan.

Sometimes Zhang Huainan was truly hiding beneath his blanket. Other times, it was only a hallucination.

Even now, the temple still passed down tales of “the Demon of Water and Thunder from Country Z.”

“Hahaha! My old friend Yadu, it’s been far too long. I have an important matter I’d like to discuss with you in detail.”

The old man said nothing.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot that you’ve been observing a vow of silence all these years. How about this? Shall we choose a time and meet at your temple later?” Zhang Huainan said. “Half an hour. I’ll be there in half an hour!”

Yadu’s pupils contracted, and the word “Scram” burst from his lips.

“Oh? You broke your vow?” Zhang Huainan asked in a strange, mocking tone. “Well, broken is broken! I told you long ago that ascetic practice is useless. Constant practical application is the only path to advancing a Spirit Pattern! Your behavior has to align with your Spirit Pattern!”

Yadu’s face had already darkened after breaking his vow. At Zhang Huainan’s words, it turned gloomier still, as though water might drip from it.

“Since you’re so emotional, I won’t visit after all. We can talk right here,” Zhang Huainan said.

In truth, he had never intended to visit Pashupati Temple. If he left, who would deal with the Great Pure Palace’s Codename F haunting?

As for why he had said such a thing, perhaps it was… a friendly greeting?

————

12:34 p.m.

Top floor of the Tulip Club, Amsterdam.

The top floor of this ancient building, whose history stretched back to the end of the eighteenth century, contained a magnificent room as opulent as a palace. Every furnishing was exquisite and lavish, while gemstones and gold formed an enormous nautical chart across the ceiling.

Several sea routes were drawn on the chart, with the lairs of several deep-sea hauntings marked in precise detail. Yet for some unknown reason, such an exquisite, comprehensive chart was missing a huge section, leaving behind a broad blank space.

“Someone from The Midnight Watchers Society?”

Behind the desk, an imposing old man was reading the latest quarterly financial report. After hearing the attendant’s explanation, he looked up and scoffed. “Aren’t they the same sort as the Church? I seem to recall they’re… a psychic organization from Country Z? What do they want with me?”

“Tell the people downstairs that I have no time to see her. Tell her to behave herself and not cause trouble in the Tulip Club. If she’s here as a customer, arrange a few strong young men for her. If she’s here to make trouble, tell her to get the hell out!”

The attendant bowed his head and left.

Brusma lowered his gaze and continued reading the financial report, his expression grave.

Ever since the nights had begun growing longer, business at the Tulip Club had soared. After all, there were few places in the world where people could party and indulge themselves all night without worrying about encountering a haunting incident.

Besides, when it came to the entertainment offered here, there was nothing the club could not provide—only things its patrons had yet to imagine.

Yet a subtle change had occurred more than a year ago. Business at the Tulip Club remained brisk, but its revenue had fallen by twenty percent.

No one could find the reason or trace where the money had gone. Vast sums had simply vanished into thin air.

“Son of a bitch. When I catch whoever’s stealing my money, I’ll feed him to those octopus monsters as an egg incubator!”

Brusma had turned only a few pages before he cursed through gritted teeth and slammed the financial report onto the desk.

At that moment, the rows of tables and text on the open document began to fade as though melting away. In the end, the pages were left completely blank.

“Hmm?” Noticing the change, Brusma raised an eyebrow, leaned over the desk, and studied the document. A line of text appeared on the pale paper before his eyes.

【I know where the missing section of the nautical chart you’ve been searching for is. Do you have time to talk?】

“Oh?”

Brusma’s gloomy, beastlike green eyes shifted from side to side, and a cold smile curled his lips. “Someone from The Midnight Watchers Society? Don’t think dangling that part of the chart in front of me will persuade me to meet you. What you’re doing right now has already put me in a very bad mood…”

Another soft rustling came from the paper, as though an invisible hand were writing with a quill.

Rustle, rustle—

【I may also know where the portion of the Tulip Club’s revenue that vanished over the past year or so has gone. Interested in talking now?】

Brusma stared at the words on the paper. After several seconds of thought, he said seriously, “This sounds like a transaction. Heh, I like transactions! I’ll meet you, but shouldn’t you pay a small deposit first, my friend?”

Thud!

The instant Brusma finished speaking, a muffled noise came from one corner of the room. An ethereal female voice echoed through the office.

“Regarding that nautical chart, I can give you a few key terms… the year 1633, the King of Minhai, and a sunken pirate vessel.”

Following the sound, Brusma saw a thick book that had fallen from the shelf and struck the solid wood floor.

A faint mist rose from its open pages and gathered into a blurry human silhouette. The figure gradually sharpened and solidified, finally taking the form of a cold, aloof woman.

Brusma studied the woman before him, who looked as though she had stepped straight out of an ancient Country Z painting of courtly ladies. A suggestive smile appeared on his face.

“So you’re from The Midnight Watchers Society? What an entrance. It really is… How does that saying from Country Z go again?”

“Ah, yes. ‘Within books lie beauties fair as jade.’ How interesting!”

Wordless Book studied the man before her in return. He appeared to be in his early fifties, with a refined yet weary face and slightly curling hair. Time seemed to have left no mark on his features. His eyes, hidden in the shadows beneath his brow bones, brought to mind a beast of the deep sea.

“…” Wordless Book considered him for several seconds, ignored his slightly flirtatious remark, and said, “Can we talk now?”

“Of course!” Brusma nodded with a smile. “However, I already know about the matter you mentioned. I even tried investigating it. But the ship was sunk in Country Z’s waters. Are you truly willing to let my people intervene?”

“If this cooperation proves satisfactory…” Wordless Book replied evenly.

The object submerged in Liaoluo Bay was nothing but a menace that frequently triggered haunting incidents. If Brusma could take it away, that would be a good thing.

As for Brusma obtaining that section of the nautical chart and becoming even stronger, it was the Church that would have a headache, not The Midnight Watchers Society.

The Church might be their ally, but it had stabbed The Midnight Watchers Society in the back for profit more than once. It was about time The Midnight Watchers Society returned the favor.

“Hahaha!” Brusma laughed heartily. Rising to his feet, he personally poured Wordless Book a cup of tea. “My noble miss, try some of my finest black tea. We can sit down and discuss this at our leisure.”

————

In a forgotten corner of the city, buildings of steel and concrete were stacked together like a god’s toy blocks.

The narrow alley was still wet from a light rain. Beneath the afternoon sun, rising moisture painted dreamlike colors across the moss-covered brick walls on either side.

At the end of that long alley stood a tavern that seemed not to exist in this world at all. Its unlit sign bore the characters 【Liao Zhai】, sharing its name with the short-story collection written by Liu Quan the Recluse.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A tall, straight-backed middle-aged man in a black suit approached from the far end of the alley. His shoes splashed through puddles, producing a string of damp footfalls.

The newcomer was the Commander of Armaments.

Truthfully, unless absolutely necessary, he preferred not to visit the Liaozhai Tavern. Setting aside the various high-tier psychics and hauntings who frequented the place, its owner alone was enough to give The Midnight Watchers Society a headache.

No one knew when the Liaozhai Tavern had first appeared. The earliest record in The Midnight Watchers Society’s archives dated back to the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period. Some even suspected that Liu Quan the Recluse had once drunk here and witnessed so many strange and wondrous things that he named his collection of stories Liao Zhai.

Even today, no one knew whether Boss Hu was human or a haunting, nor did anyone know the level of his psychic energy fluctuations. All they knew was that any person or haunting who caused trouble in the Liaozhai Tavern would appear on its menu the following day.

The Commander of Armaments had come because this was the only place where members of the various civilian psychic organizations could be gathered together.

According to File 0027 of The Midnight Watchers Society, whenever night fell, the Liaozhai Tavern could mysteriously appear anywhere in the Eastern Hemisphere, provided someone there wanted a cup of good wine and a hot meal—and could afford the “price” Boss Hu demanded.

…

After passing through the alley, the Commander of Armaments stopped before the Liaozhai Tavern. He looked over its modest entrance, raised a hand, and grasped the brass ring to knock. Before he could, the sliding wooden door rattled open.

Boss Hu, faint dark circles beneath both eyes, leaned halfway out from behind the door. The moment he saw the Commander of Armaments, resentment filled his face.

“No wonder I suddenly started having nightmares in my sleep. It turns out a walking disaster like you showed up at my door! Get lost, get lost! If my customers find out you’re here, I won’t be able to do any business today!”

When Boss Hu tried to shut the door, the Commander of Armaments frowned slightly and suddenly stepped forward. His body shot out like a thrusting spear and wedged itself across the doorway.

“You won’t need to do business today…”

Boss Hu’s face darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think The Midnight Watchers Society is so impressive? You think being a Guardian makes you special? You say I can’t open for business and that’s that? Why don’t you ask around and find out who I, Hu—”

“I’m reserving the entire tavern today,” the Commander of Armaments said flatly.

Boss Hu froze. Then a fawning smile immediately spread across his face. “My, my, how generous of you, Commander! Please, come right in.”

“May I ask how many people you’re inviting and what sort of guests they are? That way I can tailor the menu to their tastes.”

“The head of the Bamboo Grove Society, the young master of the Ruan family of Fuchun, the Gu Mistress of Miao territory… You needn’t prepare anything else. Just bring plenty of good wine,” the Commander of Armaments said.

From what he had learned while traveling in his youth, discussions with civilian psychic organizations usually began only after everyone involved had been drunk under the table.

And when it came to drinking… “As long as the Great Wall stands, so does he” could perhaps be considered a minor skill that came with his Spirit Pattern.

“Whoa!” Boss Hu exclaimed. “Those are all important people. But from the sound of it, this feels an awful lot like a Hongmen Banquet. Has The Midnight Watchers Society finally started trying to absorb the civilian psychic organizations?”

The Commander of Armaments glared at him. “Aren’t you asking a few too many questions, Boss Hu?”

“Fine, fine!” Boss Hu waved a hand. “As long as you pay enough, I couldn’t care less what schemes The Midnight Watchers Society is cooking up. But there’s one thing I have to warn you about in advance: if anything in my tavern gets broken, it goes on your bill!”

“Don’t worry,” the Commander of Armaments replied evenly. “Everyone knows the Liaozhai Tavern’s reputation. They won’t want to end up in your freezer.”

“Oh, you!” Boss Hu looked back with a coquettish pout. “Don’t make us sound like some villainous establishment. We have always treated old and young alike with complete honesty and provided every customer with the most attentive service!”

After a pause, his gaze turned cold. “Of course, troublemakers don’t count as customers. They should be considered… Never mind. Let’s not discuss that. I’ll go make the preparations.”

The Commander of Armaments watched Boss Hu leave, his brows tightly furrowed.

If they weren’t customers, what were they? Ingredients?

“Oh, speaking of good wine, I have several jars of three-hundred-year-old Zhuangyuanhong. Would you like to try them?”

“Certainly.” The Commander of Armaments nodded.

“Heh, heh…” The moment Boss Hu turned around, he let out a chuckle too quiet for anyone else to hear.

How could he not be pleased? He had finally caught a fat sheep and even managed to shear it.

Tonight would be the day the Commander of Armaments went bankrupt!

————

Inside a taxi traveling from Shizhou First People’s Hospital toward the outskirts of Shizhou City, Huá Sāng kept stealing glances at Lu Yibei from the corner of her eye.

For some reason, he had been quiet ever since getting into the car.

When the human chatterbox fell silent, something was wrong. More likely than not, he was plotting something unpleasant.

…

When Lu Yibei first saw Huá Sāng outside the hospital, he had actually been perfectly calm.

So what if she was his fiancée? She wasn’t the first one. His heart remained entirely undisturbed!

Plenty of married couples got divorced these days.

A mere verbal engagement meant nothing once both sides talked it through and agreed to disregard it.

However…

After they got into the car, they sat less than a meter apart in the cramped space, close enough to catch each other’s scent. The atmosphere suddenly became subtle and awkward.

Under its influence, Lu Yibei could not help wondering exactly how Huá Sāng had become his fiancée.

How could he possibly keep himself from thinking about something like that?

It was like being told not to think about video games while studying. The warning only made them harder to ignore.

After sorting through everything he currently knew about Huá Sāng, Lu Yibei recalled the childhood story he had once overheard, as well as the strange uncle who had taken her to the Great Pure Palace after the disaster that wiped out Jinhua Village…

Wait. That strange uncle was probably, possibly, most likely my dad?

Tsk. I can’t believe Dad secretly lured ignorant little girls away twice behind my back. Just how worried was he that I’d never find a wife?

As Lu Yibei thought this, he turned toward Huá Sāng and unexpectedly met her furtive gaze. Both of them blushed almost simultaneously.

Lu Yibei hurriedly turned to watch the cityscape changing beyond the window. Scratching his cheek, he said awkwardly, “Um, well… I recently heard something involving you…”

“Mm… yes.” Huá Sāng nodded. “I know what you mean. I’m sorry. Actually…”

“Actually, the ferule that broke before wasn’t the real one,” Lu Yibei interjected.

“You know?” Surprise flashed through Huá Sāng’s eyes.

“Uh, yes. I know.”

“Whew…” Huá Sāng breathed a sigh of relief.

She had been worried about this all morning, afraid that Lu Yibei, like her Shifu, would refuse to believe that the shattered ferule had been a fake.

“Don’t worry. I’ll recover the real ferule!”

“No matter what—even if it costs me my life.”

“Uh, actually…” Lu Yibei turned toward Huá Sāng. When he saw the absolute determination in her eyes and her small fist clenching tightly, he realized she was not merely being polite. He forcibly swallowed the rest of his sentence: You don’t have to go that far.

She was so earnest, it was hard to say no.

“…”