39 Fallen Demon Hunter vs. Esper 2

After being rescued from that dead-end alley by Wuchang, I made a firm decision: never again would I involve myself with anything related to the supernatural.

That alley was destined to be the nightmare of my remaining years. I never wanted to fall into such a terrifying abyss again.

Yet, Wuchang’s words shattered my plans for the future.

"It seems you have realized the horror of the supernatural. Since that is the case, I will tell you something important. Consider it a way to prepare your mind for what lies ahead."

"...What are you trying to say?" A dark premonition immediately took hold of me.

"The moment you accidentally stumbled into a supernatural event, a line was drawn between you and the ordinary people who know nothing of these things. From this day forward, you would do well to stop hoping for a peaceful life." Perhaps he meant to warn me out of kindness, but to my ears, his words were unimaginably cruel. "There is a saying that circulates in Luoshan: to encounter the supernatural is to form a bond with it."

"Although Luoshan has yet to determine the underlying principle of this phenomenon, statistics show that those who have once encountered a supernatural event have a drastically increased probability of encountering them again, as if they have been cursed."

"Unless you are a legendary 'Great Wuchang'—one whom all evil spirits fear and flee from—you will inevitably encounter similar dangers in the future."

-

Unable to face it, unable to escape, the shadow of the supernatural had become inextricably intertwined with my fate.

In such a situation, I had only one choice. While choosing this path was logical from a rational standpoint, it still took a great deal of effort to convince myself. That choice was to delve deep into the world of the supernatural and learn the techniques to handle these events.

With the help of that kind Wuchang, I joined Luoshan with a letter of recommendation and became a student there.

Most other Luoshan students shared similar experiences; we were ordinary people who had encountered the supernatural and joined the organization to learn how to survive. The curriculum generally lasted four years. Although there were rare exceptions, graduation paths were broadly divided into two: those who became Demon Hunters, possessing the true power to hunt the supernatural, and those who could not, serving instead as "Probes," the pioneers who went before them.

As the name suggests, Probes were the consumables of Luoshan. Though we referred to each other as "Luoshan Agents" while in the field, we were seen as outsiders, both by Luoshan and by ourselves. Even though Luoshan was obligated to provide agents with safety equipment, the mortality rate remained consistently high.

I wanted to be a Demon Hunter; I wanted to possess power. If I was destined to encounter the supernatural again, then at least let me master the means to protect myself. With a mixture of extreme fear and fervent desire, I absorbed knowledge related to demon hunting like a sponge. In all my past memories, even on the eve of my college entrance exams, I had never been so devoted to learning.

The reason I had been so helpless back then must have been my lack of power. If I had possessed the strength to break through that alley, or even the power of that Wuchang—to ignore illusions and slay evil spirits with a single stroke of a blade—how could I have been so pathetic?

All the fear and despair in this world stem from the individual’s lack of power.

Yet, I was plunged into despair once again.

Most Luoshan students lacked the talent to become Demon Hunters, and I was no exception. Four years passed, and I remained as powerless as ever, eventually returning to the secular world as a Probe.

-

Years, more than a decade passed...

Nearly twenty years had gone by—enough time to change many things. For instance, the Wuchang who once saved me had been promoted to "Roaming Inspector," and by some twist of fate, had become my superior.

There were also many things that remained unchanged, such as my inability to obtain what I so desperately craved.

As a Luoshan Agent, I encountered numerous supernatural events. Relying on the caution born of fear, and more importantly, on sheer luck, I had not yet died. But the fear in my heart had not faded; I knew clearly that my survival was nothing more than a stroke of fortune. My colleagues, one by one, died miserable deaths—just like the friends who had entered that alley with me—leaving me alone in the bottomless darkness.

During this time, I tried to further my studies, repeatedly challenging the gates to becoming a Demon Hunter. But the world of talent is cruel; some things you simply have, and some you do not. The gates to becoming a Demon Hunter remained firmly shut.

Perhaps I would never achieve my wish. One day, I would eventually look back with regret, buried within that same darkness.

Just as I was sinking into this despair, a stranger wearing a silver mask appeared before me, carrying a hope laced with deadly poison.

After so many years as a Luoshan Agent, I had accumulated a wealth of experience in observing the supernatural. At a single glance, I could tell that this masked stranger was cloaked from head to toe in an aura of madness and deceit. Beneath his seemingly rational and confident speech lurked the face of a lunatic.

He was a madman. Nothing he said should be trusted. I had to get away from this dangerous man immediately.

Yet, the words he spoke left me unable to refuse.

"Do you want power?"

"...Power?"

"Looking at your eyes, you seem to know what kind of person I am. And I can see it too—I can peer behind that coward’s mask you struggle so hard to hide."

"There is no need to be so angry. To fear dangerous things and want to stay away from them is human nature. Only when one is well-fed can one understand etiquette, and only when one is clothed and fed can one understand honor and shame; the same applies to courage. People often think courage is the companion of the weak; that is an absurdity spoken by fools brainwashed by peace and order. Courage without power is merely the self-satisfaction of a fool. True courage must be born from power."

"And what I bring to you now is the treasure you have craved and sought in vain until this day."

Right before my eyes, he produced that object.

My gaze could not turn away.

"What is this?"

"True courage."

-

His voice sounded like the seductive whisper of a demon.

I ultimately accepted his "gift."

He called himself the "Creator of Freaks." His real name and origins were unknown, and his movements were ghostly and unpredictable. The object he gave me was called a "Seed of the Heart"—a supernatural item that could merge with my body and grant me power.

When using this power, I transform into a ram-headed demon and can manipulate the power of shadows at will. This strength is extraordinarily potent; merely possessing it has elevated me beyond the "Decay" level.

The community of Demon Hunters generally divides the path of cultivation into four stages: Formation, Abiding, Decay, and Emptiness—borrowing from the Buddhist concept of the four stages of the world from birth to destruction.

"Emptiness" corresponds to ordinary people without power. As the name implies, they cannot wield even a shred of magical power; their bodies are essentially empty. Many who have just begun their journey and can only manipulate external natural forces, yet cannot manifest their own magic, are also categorized at this level.

"Decay" corresponds to the majority of Demon Hunters. Just as one who does not review knowledge gradually forgets it, and one who does not exercise muscles gradually becomes weaker, Demon Hunters at this stage are in a state of "rowing against the current—if you do not advance, you retreat." Some at the Decay level may possess power comparable to those at the Abiding level, yet they must still face the risk of decline, requiring constant effort and arduous cultivation.

Demon Hunters at the "Abiding" level have no such worries. Magic has fundamentally transformed their souls and bodies, deeply integrating with them to become a permanent source of power. From their perspective, those at the Decay level are merely lucky ones relying on powerful artifacts, or accidental awakeners of supernatural abilities—essentially, mortals wielding sharp weapons. Only those at the Abiding level can be called transcendent, the "true Demon Hunters," and they are the backbone of Luoshan.

The "Formation" level symbolizes the limit of the path of cultivation. Those at this stage can no longer evolve further because they have reached the summit—they have literally "completed" their journey.

Under normal circumstances, even if I could become a Demon Hunter, I would have had to start at "Emptiness" and work my way up against the natural order of the world. But with the help of the "Seed of the Heart," I immediately reached the threshold of "Abiding." If Luoshan were to discover this, it would surely cause a massive upheaval.

However, I was well aware that the Creator of Freaks could not possibly have given this to me for free.

The "Seed of the Heart" itself carries side effects that cannot be ignored. The Creator of Freaks made it very clear: anyone I kill will have their soul automatically devoured by me. The more souls I devour, the more I crave them. It is a physical instinct, just like throwing fragrant roast meat in front of a starving man—the latter will inevitably want to tear into it and swallow it whole. This wicked craving only ceases during the digestion process.

The Creator of Freaks also has demands of me, though compared to the side effects, these might not be much. He requires me to undergo regular physical examinations, and he collects my blood and other bodily tissues. I must also report the state of my body to him as if I were a patient with a chronic disease.

It is obvious that he treats me as an experimental subject. I am unimportant to him; what matters is how the "Seed of the Heart" evolves within me.

I am not foolish enough to resist him with violence. The idea of threatening a shopkeeper with a gun bought at a store only works in moronic jokes. Although I do not know what power he possesses, he certainly holds the means to suppress me.

The power I gained from the "Seed of the Heart" fills me with pride, yet the urge to kill leaves me deeply anxious. Rather than resisting the Creator of Freaks, I must first find a way to deal with this pressing problem.