Chapter 25: Listening to the Boss Tell Stories of the Past

After watching Asano Ariko and her father leave, Qiao Qiao also got on his scooter.

It was four o’clock in the morning.

Have you ever seen Tokyo at four in the morning?

Qiao Qiao had. He didn’t head straight home, but instead turned into a narrow alley.

A small restaurant styled like an izakaya was still lit up.

It was the owner’s late-night diner.

He parked, pushed open the door.

Inside, as always, only the owner was present. The place felt a bit desolate.

“You’re here.”

The owner wasn’t surprised by Qiao Qiao’s sudden visit. Perhaps he’d already guessed Qiao Qiao would come.

“Yes, I’m here.” Qiao Qiao took a seat and ordered a pork cutlet set meal.

He couldn’t help it; ever since thinking about pork cutlet at the police station, he’d been craving it.

“Alright.” The owner didn’t say much, just turned and busied himself in the kitchen.

Soon, steaming hot pork cutlet was served.

“I’ll begin.” Qiao Qiao didn’t really have this habit—after all, he was from Huaxia—but in the owner’s shop, he preferred to respect local customs.

“It’s been an unsettled night,” the owner said quietly, lighting a cigarette.

“Yes, just as you hinted earlier, Ikeguchi Tetsu’s death was indeed connected to those missing girls.”

The owner paused, clearly surprised. Then he took a deep drag on his cigarette.

“So, you understand.”

“Yes, I do.” Qiao Qiao then recounted everything that had happened that night.

“Owner, your ash is about to fall.” He finished, reminding the owner who seemed frozen in place.

“Oh, hot, hot!” The owner flicked the ash off his hand and stubbed out the cigarette.

“An artist who kills for the sake of art… In times like these, it’s hard to tell whether spirits or humans are more frightening.”

He sighed, pouring Qiao Qiao a glass of chilled oolong tea.

“There’s something else, Owner.” Qiao Qiao stated his purpose.

“When I was channeling, I saw someone teaching Ikeguchi Tetsu how to turn common spirits into vengeful ones and how to construct the barrier in that villa.”

He spoke. The face of that person had been erased from Ikeguchi Tetsu’s memories.

Qiao Qiao thought the owner, being well-informed, might know something.

“Someone taught him?” The owner repeated, his expression odd.

“Yes.” Qiao Qiao nodded.

“…That’s connected to a scandal in the Japanese Exorcists Association,” the owner began after a long silence, leaning against the wall.

He told Qiao Qiao a story.

It was about thirty years ago, when Japan’s economic bubble burst—a time of depression.

Just a few years before the collapse, Japan was thriving, intoxicated by wealth, claiming it could buy the entire world across the ocean.

Compared to today’s taxis, which feel like daylight robbery, back then, even waving ten thousand yen on the street didn’t guarantee a cab would stop.

But after the crash, countless companies folded, unemployment soared.

People spent their whole lives repaying mortgages to the banks, if they were lucky enough to do so; many lost everything overnight, sinking into debt from which they couldn’t escape.

In the end, many chose suicide.

This gave rise to countless vengeful spirits.

It was an era of hundred ghosts roaming the night.

Ironically, while every industry languished, exorcists prospered.

The owner said he’d only just entered the field at that time.

In Tokyo’s exorcist circles then, besides the major shrines, temples, and Onmyoji, there was a genius exorcist.

The owner didn’t reveal his name.

This exorcist was unconventional, mastering and perfecting techniques from Shinto, Buddhism, and Onmyoji in a short time.

At his peak, he dominated the field—even the gods of the shrines feared him.

A few years later, he invented an exorcist tool called the Jewel of Four Souls.

“Wait, did that exorcist read ‘InuYasha’?” Qiao Qiao couldn’t help but interject.

“Actually, ‘InuYasha’ was inspired by that exorcist,” the owner smiled. “After all, Ms. Takahashi had quite friendly ties with some exorcists.”

“Really?” Qiao Qiao marveled at the owner’s knowledge, even of such gossip.

The owner then explained the concept of the Four Souls.

It’s a Shinto idea: every living thing possesses four souls of different natures, and the proportions affect their character and traits.

It sounded somewhat like Hippocrates’ theory of bodily fluids.

Aramitama, Sakimitama, Kushimitama, and Nigimitama—these are the Shinto Four Souls.

The Jewel of Four Souls, created by that exorcist, could absorb the negative energy of vengeful and evil spirits, storing it like a battery.

This energy could be gradually converted to spiritual power and reused in rituals and exorcisms.

It greatly aided weaker exorcists; even those with little spiritual strength could use it as an amplifier.

Exorcisms became easy.

Gradually, the method for making the Jewel of Four Souls spread among exorcists.

Some even thought it heralded a new era for exorcists.

“But in the end, someone would seek out vengeful spirits—or even create them—to store more energy in the Jewel of Four Souls, right?” Qiao Qiao guessed.

“Exactly.” The owner sighed.

Less than half a year after the method was made public, exorcists began committing murder.

They tortured and killed ordinary people, creating vengeful spirits, then absorbed them with the Jewel of Four Souls.

At first, people thought the spread of the Jewel had boosted exorcists’ average power.

When the truth came to light, the tool was banned by Shinto, Buddhist, and Onmyoji authorities; all existing Jewels were reclaimed, and the method became taboo.

At that moment, the exorcist stepped forward.

He controlled all the Jewels of Four Souls, attempting to challenge the traditional exorcist system.

He claimed it was to create “a world without vengeful spirits.”

Back then, the entire Japanese exorcist community waged a fierce battle against him.

Facing perhaps the most talented exorcist since Abe no Seimei, wielding the power of hundreds of thousands of souls, the exorcists suffered heavy losses.

Most renowned exorcists died or were wounded, and those who survived barely recovered in the following years.

Even the gods of sixteen shrines in Tokyo were erased in a single night.

Just as Japan’s economy had collapsed years before, the newly prosperous exorcist community nearly broke.

It wasn’t until the Japanese Exorcists Association was founded years later that things improved somewhat.

“What happened to that exorcist in the end…?” Qiao Qiao imagined the scene, his thoughts roiling.

He hadn’t expected such epic history in the exorcist world.

An exorcist who could rival the gods—unheard of.

“He exhausted the spiritual energy in the Jewels of Four Souls, fighting while fleeing, and was finally subdued on a small island between Awaji and the Akashi Strait in Hyogo Prefecture.”

The owner couldn’t help but light another cigarette, blowing a ring as he spoke.

“When he died, he left a curse: anyone who used the Jewel of Four Souls would bear his resentment, and anyone who spoke his name would be watched by him from hell.”

“That year was 1995.”

Qiao Qiao pondered, then arrived at an answer.

The Great Hanshin Earthquake.

Yes, the epicenter in Hyogo Prefecture.

It was the deadliest quake in Japan since the Tokyo disaster nearly a century earlier.

It caused massive economic loss and even political change. The record wasn’t broken until the 2011 disaster.

Was the earthquake not a natural calamity, but a man-made one?

As for the subsequent impact on Japan—how much was caused by the Jewel of Four Souls and that exorcist—Qiao Qiao dared not think too deeply.

He had once believed exorcists dealt only with the dead, never affecting the living.

Now he realized how terrifying their power could be.

Yet there was no book recording such power.

Truly mysterious.

As for the exorcist whose name could not be spoken—it reminded him of a saying from Huaxia:

With great power comes great responsibility.

The owner had told him this story as a warning.

Qiao Qiao was filled with gratitude.

“The method for artificially creating vengeful spirits and the villa’s barrier—I believe they may be related to the Jewel of Four Souls,” the owner concluded.

Though the method had once been widespread, all written records had been destroyed, and those who knew it were tightly monitored.

To this day, only the major shrines, temples, and Onmyoji retain the knowledge.

Few others know.

As for the name “Jewel of Four Souls,” thanks to Ms. Takahashi’s manga, public perception has changed—it’s become something entirely different.

If this incident truly involves the Jewel of Four Souls, its implications run deep.

“You’d best not dig too far into this,” the owner cautioned.

“I understand.” Qiao Qiao knew well.

If a sneeze from such a figure could trigger an earthquake, he’d best keep his distance.

If he ever encountered something similar, he’d immediately report to the Association.

Never act rashly.

He made up his mind.

The story was long, and by its end, dawn was breaking.

Qiao Qiao stood, paid, and prepared to leave.

His phone vibrated.

It was a Line message from Asano Ariko.

She had apparently just arrived home, letting Qiao Qiao know she was safe.

She also sent a photo—not a cozy selfie in pajamas, but of the cat that had survived the ordeal.

Qiao Qiao didn’t have time to keep a cat, so Asano Ariko had taken it to the shrine, where there was no shortage of feline residents.

In the photo, the kitten slept peacefully, paw covering its eyes as if blocking out the bright light.

Asano Ariko said she’d named the kitten Saya.

“A good name,” Qiao Qiao replied.