Love letters are not allowed in the exorcism notebook!-Chapter 499 - 77: Why is it so chaotic tonight?

"How can you be sure they were Fusang People?"

Ito Mitsuhide got up from the ground, raised his leg to dust off the dirt on his knees, and turned his head to look at the white policeman who had already bandaged his wound.

"To me, there seems to be no difference between the People of Ming and the Fusang People, at least not discernible to the naked eye."

The white policeman spread his hands and said, "But these people were short, had weapons in their hands, and it looked like they were congregating to cause trouble. Plus, someone spoke a bit of Japanese. Aren’t these clues enough to conclude?"

"Of course not, Mr. Logan, have you forgotten? The police do not have the authority to ’identify Fusang People.’ The regulation that allows shooting at Fusang People without tattoos on their faces has a necessary prerequisite, which is to have actual evidence of their identity, not rely on personal judgment—if such power is abused, then anyone could potentially be considered a Fusang Person."

As Ito Mitsuhide spoke, he handed Logan the blood-stained scrap of fabric he had picked up from the ground, "Mr. Logan, your Demon Hunters have an impressive sense of smell; can you smell anything on this?"

Logan shook his head and said, "Aside from the blood being that of a normal human, I can’t smell anything else. Captain Ito, if you have something to say, just say it."

"This smells like the sauce pork knuckle from Julaixian Restaurant on Qingshan Street. Their cooked food has a distinct flavor—more hawthorn and grass cardamom are added for tenderness and to fall off the bone easily, but too much seasoning can upset the balance."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What I’m saying is those National Salvation Warriors can’t afford this kind of lavish meal; they’d be lucky to have onigiri to fill their bellies, let alone open daylight at someone else’s restaurant. These people had Money in their pockets, used axes as weapons, and after subduing you, they didn’t kill to silence... Adding up all the clues, I’m more inclined to think they were from a local Jianghu World Gang."

Logan paused a moment, then said dismissively, "Weren’t all the notorious Jianghu World Gangs cracked down on and cleared out last year?"

"Perhaps they’re from out of town or other city districts, that came over here—dragons crossing the river, which is quite normal. And Jianghu World Gangs are an enduring presence; our societal conditions haven’t reached that stage yet."

"Furthermore..."

Ito Hidemi frowned as he looked towards the far end of the street, "What’s going on over there?"

"The rats are rioting."

Logan bared his teeth in frustration, lighting a cigarette for himself, "It must be a ’Pied Piper’ controlling the rat swarm. I was actually planning to check it out, but then I ran into this mess, what terrible luck!"

"Bad luck? It can’t be such a coincidence. We received orders to come here to hunt for Fusang People and just happened to encounter a Jianghu World Gang that’s also here. And over there, the Pied Piper, who knows what mischief he’s up to—it almost looks like we’re providing them cover."

Ito Hidemi looked around, then walked into a shop next to the street, and said to the meek shopkeeper, "Excuse me, I need to use your telephone."

He dialed a number.

"Hello? Yes, this is Shen Garden..."

"Captain Cheng, this is Ito Hidemi."

"Mr. Ito?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounded surprised, "You’re calling at this late hour because...?"

Late?

Ito Hidemi frowned, glancing subconsciously at the time on his watch.

"Please forgive my impertinence, Miss Cheng, if you’ve already retired for the night, then I won’t disturb you."

"No, no, it’s okay, we’re in the middle of... well, never mind, Mr. Ito, if it’s something urgent, please don’t hesitate to speak."

"It’s nothing, I just wanted to make sure that your security measures have been fully implemented, right?"

"Yes... yes, they are. I’ve called over the students from Jishan Academy. We have enough people, don’t worry!"

Don’t worry my ass!

Ito Hidemi took a deep breath, raising his hand to rub the dragon tattoo on his cheek.

Can these young masters and misses really be relied upon?

It’s not that there aren’t more reliable people than them, but only in their hands is that thing sufficiently secure.

The young masters and misses have their faults, but their merits are undeniable, being that they cannot be easily bought by money.

"That’s how it is, Miss Cheng," he said. "I just received news that another group has sneaked in, and their origins and intentions remain unclear. You’d best be cautious tonight."

"Aren’t they Fusang Samurai?"

We haven’t found the Fusang Samurai yet; this group seems to be from a domestic Jianghu World Gang. Apart from that thing, I can’t think of any other reason they’d dare cause trouble in Tianmen."

You mean the national..."

"Don’t say it over the phone!"

Ito Hidemi’s tone inadvertently became tense, but he soon recovered, "Sorry, Miss Cheng, what I mean is that there’s a risk of wiretapping."

"Mm, I’m aware, don’t worry!"

I can’t be at ease, not even a little!

"In any case, if you really encounter an emergency situation, be sure to contact me on time."

"Alright, Mr. Ito, I know what to do."

After hanging up, Ito Hidemi took out a Money from his pocket and handed it to the nearby shop owner, also producing a seemingly inconspicuous notebook.

Upon opening the notebook, three lines of irregular verse immediately came into view.

Boiling beans burn the stalks,

Beneath the moon, the infatuated pour their warm blood,

All for what reason, in vain.

I hate three kinds of people the most in my life: Fusang People, those who speak in riddles, and poets."

Looking at the haiku that appeared in the notebook, Ito Hidemi was so enraged he almost ground his teeth.

This damn notebook is indeed useless, always offering such vague prophecies that must even be phrased in haiku. Its former owner must have been a destitute, womanless, diehard literary nerd; that’s why the resentment is so deep.

"Mr. Logan, are you rested?"

Stepping out of the shop, Ito Hidemi turned to look at the white Patrol Police officer who was silently smoking outside: "I’m asking you to pull out some real skill. We must find those National Salvation Warriors tonight. The longer they stay here, the more the risk increases."

"That’s no concern of mine, but are there really Fusang Samurai?" Logan shrugged: "So far there’s been no lead. Are you sure it’s not just the higher-ups concocting an excuse to send us here to cover up for someone’s underhanded actions?"

"I’m certain!"

Ito Hidemi nodded emphatically. The prophecies in the notebook were vague, but they had never been wrong.

Otherwise, how else could the phrase "Boiling beans burn the stalks" be interpreted?

But this wasn’t a reason he could voice out loud.

And he didn’t feel any kinship between himself and those mad National Salvation Warriors.

Fusang People without tattoos on their faces... they were long dead, now just lingering in this world, clinging to their rotting corpses.

The best treatment for them was to send them to the pure land.