This Japanese Monogatari Isn't Lame

Following the mountain path downwards and crossing through a patch of small shrubs, you can vaguely see the flickering forest lights through the gaps in the dense forest.

Through those flickering lights, you can see the clear outlines of various houses in the night sky.

And this is indeed the truth.

These houses all appear to have a sense of age, with dilapidated eaves, some roofs with missing tiles, leaving only bare, blackened wood soaked by dirty water.

The ground is covered with leaves accumulated over years, with only one visible path.

This path extends forward a bit and then turns upward.

It seems that walking up this slope is the formal entrance to the village.

Beichuan Si turned to examine his surroundings.

The dense forest around was steeped in darkness, the air filled with a damp, fishy smell, while the leaves underfoot were so soft that they made no sound when stepped on.

Looking forward from here, not a person in sight.

Looking backward from here, the same scene.

Everything was silent, except for the flickering lights ahead.

Beichuan Si exhaled lightly.

He did not let Shen Gu Mirai follow.

First, he explored alone... This decision was made earlier.

"Let's go, Yongshi, Shihui, Kelian."

Beichuan Si glanced at Shinra Bell, pinched Nishijou Kelian's cheek, carrying a backpack and holding a flashlight, stepped onto the path that appeared alongside the Mouchi Main Family.

The path underfoot was slippery with moss, and Beichuan Si used a broken branch for support, walking steadily upward and occasionally observing the surroundings.

"Hmm?"

Beichuan Si stopped and looked at a pile of stones wrapped in red cloth beside him.

These stones of various sizes were piled up, all wrapped with striking red cloth.

Under the pile of stones, there were traces of burned incense.

"This is an ancient warning method... Mr. Temple."

Magong Yongshi's voice sounded in the ear, explaining to Beichuan Si:

"There used to be travelers who often wandered into this dense forest, arriving upon this ancient family village without knowing. However, since there were things in the village that weren't convenient for outsiders to see, stones were erected at the entrance, wrapped with bright red cloth visible in the darkness."

"Its meaning is travelers, outsiders halt, those who violate will face mortal danger."

"And this has been retained over time as a custom, or tradition. It warns travelers, that ahead lies a domain ordinary people cannot tread."

No wonder Magong Yongshi, who particularly loves reading, knows such obscure customs well.

Beichuan Si nodded, then crouched down to pick up a small stone and examined it.

This stone was covered in damp moss, the surface smooth, and the faded color of the red cloth sticking to it, resembling dried blood stains.

"Let's move forward."

Beichuan Si put down the stone and continued walking.

At the end of the path was a tilted Torii gate.

Standing at the Torii gate, you can see ancient homes lining both sides of the street.

"This is the Mouchi Main Family..."

In Beichuan Si's eyes appeared a chilling aura.

For some reason, merely looking at this seemingly calm residential area, he felt a vague sense of danger.

The flashlight in his hand began to turn, inspecting the surroundings.

These wooden buildings, having gone too long without repairs, had wood surfaces somewhat moist and oxidized, turning completely gray-black; behind the white paper windows seemed to flicker candlelight and silhouettes, yet upon closer inspection nothing existed.

Of course, the key was not only these.

Beichuan Si thoughtfully looked around.

As you enter the village, the first step reveals it.

The Mouchi Main Family's village was filled with gray-white fog.

"Is this Yellow Springs miasma?"

Beichuan Si took a glance back.

The entrance Torii gate was gradually cloaked in thick fog, impossible to make out without close examination.

No more words were necessary.

Beichuan Si continued to walk forward.

But this time, just after two steps, he halted once again.

"What is this...?"

Beichuan Si was about to sweep away the soft leaves beneath his feet.

But in the next instant—a pale, distorted hand suddenly gripped Beichuan Si's wrist tightly from the side.

Hmm?!

Beichuan Si's pupils widened, a thick black aura rushed from his wrist, breaking free in an instant as his other hand flipped, the silver glittering Jian Ding falling into his grip.

Without a glance, he directly used Jian Ding to cut!

Whoosh!!!

His wrist flew! Black liquid splattered.

With a kick that sent the opponent flying, Beichuan Si finally saw the specter that grabbed his wrist.

It was a middle-aged man, his gray, blurry face void of any expression, and the only sound was his painful, broken voice:

"Where are you... Jing...?"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

He clawed at his own scalp, the sound of tearing hair chilling, the scalp slumping as black, foul liquid dripped.

The next moment, he lifted his head.

Though his facial expression was invisible, Beichuan Si still sensed the venomous stare fixed on himself.

A furious, tearing screech erupted.