Thirty Years of Demon Slaying at the Demon-Slaying Department - Chapter 6

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

After Fahai left, Zhou Yi threw the remains of the ox demon into the Demon Refining Grotto. 

Every day, remains of hundreds of demons would be thrown into the Demon Refining Grotto, but regardless of how much time had passed, the grotto still seemed so bottomless.

Zhou Yi returned to his sleeping quarters but found it hard to calm his mind. 

Even for Fahai, the ox demon’s encounter was so distressing that it gave rise to a demon within him, eating away at his conscience. Would an ordinary person like Zhou Yi be spared? So he just stood aside to watch because this was the only way he could protect himself from being emotionally affected. 

“Why don’t I record this down? I am idle anyway.”

“To collect writing materials, Liao Zai opened a teahouse where patrons paid for their drinks with stories. Through this method, he managed to gather a large number of mysterious and bizarre stories.”

“I don’t even need to collect. I am in contact with demons and monsters every day, so I just have to select those with significant messages to relate, for example, words of precaution, and then sort them out accordingly. With some slight organizing and finishing touches, it can be made into a book.”

Zhou Yi deliberated for a moment and felt that his idea was feasible. 

Writing a book was not only a way for keeping records but also a good way for him to keep his sanity. 

Living underground, there was no daylight, and his daily activities revolved around eating, sleeping, and slaying demons. Over time, this would affect him psychologically. 

There was no pen and paper in the prison, so the next morning, Zhou Yi approached Captain Shi and told him about his idea.

“Write a book?”

Captain Shi looked at Zhou Yi with disbelief. He himself came from a family of scholars. but even his father, who had passed the imperial examination, did not dare entertain the thought of writing a book. 

In the Great Qian Dynasty, only a few people were qualified enough to write books, and all of them were highly reputed sages. 

“I can’t really say it’s a book. I would think of it more of a record of stories of demons written in layman Chinese.”

Zhou Yi went on elaborating, “For example, some tragic cases where demons had to be slain could probably be avoided if preventive measures had been taken earlier. I told Master Fahai about this yesterday, and he is also very supportive of the idea.”

“You mean to say that colloquial language can also be used to write books?”

When Captain Shi heard that Fahai was also supportive of this idea, he nodded and said, “I will bring you some pen and paper tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“No need to thank me. Just do a good job.”

Zhou Yi was now the head executioner in the prison. Asking for some pen and paper was really nothing much at all. The value of any demon material that he contributed from slaying a demon would easily earn him enough writing materials to last one year.

Zhou Yi had already come up with the book’s name; it would be called “The Stories of an Executioner.”

For the opening chapter, he would write such an introduction of himself:

I am an executioner, and my name is not important. I am writing down all my personal experiences in black and white. If anyone can draw a warning or two from them and eventually avoid disaster, then this book is not written in vain.

Writing in a purely vernacular form of a language would allow the readers to feel as if they are listening to ordinary everyday conversations.

Zhou Yi did not know how to write in classical Chinese. Even if he was similar to the person he was in his last life, there was still no way he could learn how to write in classical Chinese.

The first story was not about the ox demon he encountered yesterday. It was a story titled “Ghost of a Scholar.” 

“The immortal master caught the scholar, then thunder struck, and the scholar disappeared. Even his soul dissipated to nothing.”

The second story was titled “House Demon.”

“The rooster demon pecked the farmer and his family to death, and in the process of fleeing deep into the mountains, it fell into the trap of an immortal master.”

The story about the ox demon was titled “The Cow and the Monk,” and it appeared as the third story in his book.

These three stories were basically retrospective of real-life events, but during the course of writing, he made some slight modifications. For instance, the real names of places like the Demon Slaying Department should never appear in the book. 

The background of place names in the book was made vague, while the court itself was also a dynasty that never existed. 

Zhou Yi was mindful of the most basic taboos. As a small official of the Demon Slaying Department, he should never, ever create an opportunity for himself to expose the darkness of the court with his book. If not, his book would certainly be banned. 

Banned books were limited to circulation among small communities. In that case, Zhou Yi would never be able to achieve his original intention of writing this book. 

Captain Shi read the three stories and gave a one-sentence comment, “You can go to the teahouse to tell stories in the future.”

Then he made no other comments. 

In Captain Shi’s eyes, these ten pages that Zhou Yi filled with his stories could only give him momentary happiness.

Zhou Yi was not bothered about what Captain Shi thought of him writing a book. Captain Shi was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. How would he know about the hardships and sufferings of those at the bottom of society? Zhou Yi only needed the captain to provide him with pen and paper—that was all that mattered to him. 

Captain Shi treated “The Stories of an Executioner” like dirt, but it shot to popularity among everyone else in the prison.

Many of those who read the stories Zhou Yi wrote would in turn narrate what they read to others. And then, these stories began to spread really quickly by word of mouth. Basically, almost all the executioners had come to hear of the stories he wrote. 

The dull life in the underground prison was a little livelier than it was before.

The executioners came from all over the Great Qian, with different backgrounds and origins. But they would all end up dying anyway. 

Some who had been interested in “The Stories of an Executioner” would especially make a trip over to tell Zhou Yi about the bizarre incidents they had personally experienced. 

“Executioner Li Dazhuang happened to meet a procession of merchants while traveling along the mountainous roads of Taizhou. It was a rainy night, so they took shelter in the temple of the Mountain supreme-ruler for the night….”

“When executioner Sun Sanpao was young, he once went swimming in the river during summer and ended up with a foreign object in his ear. After that incident, he was always hearing boisterous sounds of people’s voices, the immortal master of Ching Chung Koon Taoist Temple…”

“Passerby A, an executioner who did not wish to disclose his name, encountered a massive flood and left his hometown. But then, for the next seven days and nights, he dreamed of his parents….”

Zhou Yi did not reject anyone who came to him with a story. So long as he could find value in their story, whether true or false, personal experience or hearsay, he would write it down first. Then he would add some modifications before recording it into the book. 

There was no lack of relegated officials among the executioners. They were all people who traveled extensively and had opened their eyes to many things around the world. In the process of communicating with them, Zhou Yi also had a vague impression of the Great Qian. 

With a vast territory, the Great Qian was once one of the kingdoms located in central Yunzhou.

Fifteen hundred years ago, the great founding father of Great Qian made a meritorious contribution. He fought battles throughout the entire continent and unified Yunzhou, and therefore his kingdom became the only one to ever exist as an imperial dynasty within the whole of Yunzhou. 

It was the now year 1563 of the Great Qian Dynasty, the 39th year under the Jingtai reign.

Emperor Jingtai had been ruling for nearly 40 years, but it was said that in recent years, because of old age, most matters of the nation were manned and supervised by the prince instead. 

While he worked on writing his book, Zhou Yi went on with his daily duty of slaying demons. And he would also receive rewards upon completing the tasks assigned to him. 

Upon slaying the man-eating boar demon, he received the earth spirit pill.

Upon slaying the vicious scorpion spirit, he received the talent of being impenetrable.

Upon slaying the python spirit that brought harm to the village, he received the magic weapon, the water-avoiding pearl.

Upon slaying the porcupine spirit that stole incense offerings, he received the Invigoration pill.

The Catalogue of Demons and Monsters had a massive collection of talents, magic spells, magic weapons, elixirs, and many more. But with such a wide variety available, the catalogue did not seem to have a systematic way of selecting the kind of rewards to give out.

One thing that he found regrettable was that he did not receive any more tasks in the Class-A prison cells, so the reward items he received thereafter were mostly of a relatively low grade. But Zhou Yi was not really affected by it, for there was really no other better place in the world as compared to the Demon Slaying Department. 

He was secretly taking the Invigoration pills and practicing magic spells. Then in the blink of an eye, another six months went by. 

By now, Zhou Yi had become a senior executioner in the torture room and had seen the demise of three or four batches of colleagues. The captain in the prison was changed again. 

It was not that all executioners in the prison were destined to live short lives. In the records, there was one who lived as long as five years before he died, so Zhou Yi did not really attract anyone’s attention despite being around for so long. 

Captain Shi often read the stories that Zhou Yi recorded in his book and would even discuss them whenever there were people who had different opinions. He did not keep his thoughts to himself even for the more ordinary matters. The captain of the Demon Slaying Department was a position that would be rotated every six months, and this would be considered as a record of one’s actual working experience. 

The new captain, Captain Zhu, had a physique that paid homage to his name. With a portly figure, he sported an amicable and harmonious character. 

Captain Shi had already given instructions to Captain Zhu, telling him that Zhou Yi was writing a book titled “The Stories of an Executioner,” and Captain Zhu should bring him pen and paper every other day. 

Captain Zhu obediently agreed with a smile and performed his tasks conscientiously.

This day, upon receiving his assignment, Zhou Yi was quite surprised to see that it was a fish demon again.

There were thousands and thousands of demons in this world, so it was not very common for the same kind of demon to reappear. 

It was a clean and sharp kill, though. Zhou Yi’s hands manipulated the torture instrument with great ease, and then, the scales and skin of the fish demon were seamlessly sliced off. There was no visible damage to the entire skin at all. 

The Catalogue of Demons and Monsters slowly opened. After a moment spent on flipping through the pages, it stopped at the page featuring a group of fish demons. To the viewer’s surprise, the picture on the page was lit up. 

The picture of the fish demon went on shining with a slight glimmer of light and became a tad brighter than before.

Fragments of memory flashed in front of his eyes…

This was a fish demon that caused a ship to overturn…

It had already obtained two years of Taoist attainment.

“Taoist attainment?”

Zhou Yi secretly assessed himself inwardly and realized that his internal magic power had unknowingly increased by more than double its original amount.

He had been cultivating the Huang-ting Scripture for half a year but the increase in power was not even half of this newly increased amount. 

“Two years of Taoist attainment is the equivalent of cultivating with the Huang-ting Scripture in his mind for two years?”