I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World-Chapter 20: Danger

I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World

[Original – YakuMan]

[TL – MiT7]

[PR – Spades]

Chapter 20: Danger

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Ten years ago, Aida Masashi remarried a man named Hashima Masaki, forming a new family with her son, Daichi.

Then... one day, Hashima Masaki, aiming for a promotion, brought his company's president home.

Back then, Aida Daichi was just seven.

After exploiting Masashi, Hashima abandoned them, marrying into the Taniya family, taking their name. Until two days ago, he'd been the president of Shinga Firm.

Alive, he'd been a polished figure.

Dead, those who'd held grudges spilled his dirty secrets to the police.

Reading the file, Aoji's frustration at a wasted trip eased.

He looked at Aida Daichi. His tone wasn't warm, but it softened. "Tell me the details of meeting Hell Girl."

Aida Daichi stayed quiet. He saw Hell Girl as his savior. Though Taniya Masaki's death meant he'd go to hell after his own, without her, revenge would've been impossible.

"Iwakuro Yuto—you killed him yourself. Legally, that's prison. But Hell Girl's a special case. Share the details of meeting her, and I can reduce your sentence," Aoji said evenly. "Don't talk, fine. Plenty have died—someone will."

Aida Daichi wrestled with it... but thoughts of his mother broke his silence.

Muttering an apology to Hell Girl in his heart, he recounted everything.

Shocked at the time and with days passed, some details blurred. He only clearly recalled Hell Girl standing under a giant tree.

"She said you can only use Hell Correspondence once in a lifetime," Aida Daichi clarified. "Pull the string, and you sign her contract. After your grudge is settled, you go to hell when you die."

He yanked open his uniform, revealing the curse mark on his chest.

A black, flame-like symbol etched into his skin, thick dark mist rising from it.

Aoji watched warily, his hidden hand gripping the window so hard it cracked. Seeing no reaction from the curse, he relaxed slightly.

You couldn't be too careful with anomalies. The reckless were long buried.

Koike Oto couldn't see much, but the mark gave her a vague, eerie sense.

"You've been around others these past two days—anything odd about them?" Aoji asked.

Aida Daichi thought, then shook his head. "No."

Aoji sank into thought.

Hell Girl's killing rules were practically public.

The 2ch post spelled it out: enter a name in Hell Correspondence, and she'd send them to hell.

Now, he knew meeting her got you a straw doll. Pull the string, seal the deal—grudge settled, curse mark gained.

He guessed the curse only affected the contractor, harmless to others.

"Koike, can you control Spiritual Power yet?" Aoji asked abruptly.

"Huh?" Koike felt a sinking dread but answered honestly. "In three days of training, I've learned the basics."

Aoji stared at her calmly, pointing at Aida Daichi. "Go erode that curse with your Spiritual Power."

Koike froze. She'd braced for this, but the moment still chilled her.

She'd thought Aoji was decent—cold words, warm heart. Now he'd shattered that.

Seeing his blank face, she bit her lip, stepped forward, and faced Aida Daichi.

By now, Aida Daichi was tense too.

But he had no choice but to cooperate.

Koike took a deep breath, extending a slender hand. She stopped just shy of the curse. A faint light stretched from her fingertip, sinking into the mark.

Her heart leapt to her throat, pounding like a drum.

"Enough."

After a while, Aoji saw Koike's pale face and dripping sweat, knowing she'd hit her limit.

Huff...

Koike exhaled, wiping her brow. The moment Aoji stopped her, she nearly collapsed.

Her Spiritual Power was only first-stage.

Aoji mused, eyeing the black flame mark. Spiritual Power did nothing to it.

No surprise—most anomalies shrugged off Spiritual Power.

But Special Division inspectors needed third-stage power minimum. Why? Only then could you sense anomalies.

Without that, you couldn't even detect them, let alone investigate or contain.

He approached Aida Daichi, raising his right hand—revealing it from his sleeve for the first time.

Aida Daichi clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream, stumbling back, face ashen.

"Don't move," Aoji said coldly, glancing at his hand with disgust.

It was human-sized but skinless—raw flesh, tendons, and bone exposed. As it emerged, a bloody stench filled the room, nauseating.

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Worse, it pulsed like it had a heartbeat, cloaked in a blood-red sheen that inspired dread.

Aida Daichi even glimpsed, as wind lifted Aoji's sleeve, a flash of stark white bone.

His gut screamed: this guy wasn't human.

The Hand of Theft.

The name popped into Koike's mind. Also called the Hand of Hermes.

The files kept it simple for clarity.

She covered her nose against the reek but stared hard.

The description was sparse but striking.

[The Hand of Theft: Can steal anything—tangible objects or abstract concepts—with ease.]

Each use exacted a price: it stole from the user—not clothes or trinkets, but organs.

Liver, spleen, heart...

Aoji's face stayed stony as he moved his hand toward the curse mark.

Just before contact—

Ding-a-ling—

A bell chimed in his mind.

With it, a numbing sensation locked his body. He couldn't move.

But it wasn't strong—he could break free with effort.

As he frowned, ready to push through, his soul jolted.

"If I steal this curse, I'll die."

Danger!

Aoji froze...

After a moment, he silently withdrew his hand, tucking it back into his sleeve. The stench faded, as if nothing had happened.

But Koike noticed Aoji's hair whitening further, visibly, in real time.