WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Martial Alliance Rulebook Archives ◈

Chapter 37: The Gap Between the Records Office and the Anomaly Destruction Hall (1)

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"Uh, why did you change the name?"

"When the unorthodox sects use it, it's wicked sorcery. When the orthodox sects use it, it's a mystical art containing profound principles. If you're going to use a martial art as obviously sinister as the Star-Absorbing Great Method, you need to change its name first."

Was this martial-world origin laundering? He was not even trying to hide his intent to disguise its origins, changing them from unorthodox to orthodox.

"Th-that's allowed?"

"When the unorthodox sects pick up a divine art from the orthodox side, they rename it and cultivate it as their own wicked, peculiar martial art."

"Aha."

It seemed both sides shared the habit of changing a martial art's origins first, since using a stolen technique from the opposing camp as it was would hurt their pride.

"Anomaly-Absorbing Great Method is too lazy a name. How about Demon-Breaking Vajra Art?"

"You have a talent for naming things!"

Thinking about it, this relabeling did not seem especially useful. There would be no need to use this martial art against people. It would only be used to hunt Anomalies...

"Won't we know what the original is anyway?"

"That's because you haven't gone out to record Anomalies yet... No, that isn't right. You've had dealings with martial artists other than Records Officers, haven't you?"

The special physician pointed at the secret martial manual in my hand. The person who had given me this manual was...

"Are you referring to the Anomaly Destruction Hall?"

"That's right. Those unorthodox bastards butt in whenever they're bored, so we need to prepare at least some grounds to insist that it's an orthodox technique."

I found myself nodding. The reason for going out of their way to change the martial art's name became clear.

"So it's a battle of pride between the Anomaly Destruction Hall and the Anomaly Records Office?"

"Ahem. Say that we're representing the orthodox sects and putting the unorthodox sects in their place."

The special physician answered shamelessly. Since he did not deny it too strongly, a battle of pride probably was the main reason.

"There is another reason, though. You were just talking about names, weren't you? Names can sometimes hint at fate, so people say it helps to receive favorable energy."

"Wouldn't the Anomaly Destruction Hall receive bad energy by renaming things with unorthodox-sounding names?"

"That suits the riffraff of the unorthodox sects!"

The special physician cackled. Whether in the martial world or on Earth, the jokes of those in high places were equally hard to understand.

"Hmm..."

"What's wrong?"

"I was wondering what it's like over there, since we're worked so hard with so little manpower and such poor pay."

"I hear the food is good."

"Pardon?"

"You remember the chef who made dumplings for us last time."

Ah.

The Anomaly Destruction Hall spy known as the Human-Skin Chef, whose conduct was so bizarre and chilling that it suited that ominous epithet.

"That one works as the Anomaly Destruction Hall's chef whenever they aren't out and about. The food is worth eating."

To be honest, because of the person in front of me, I had not been able to properly savor that delicious food.

Still...

"I'm envious. Good food gives you strength even when you don't want to work."

"I agree. Ha, if only that one's hobbies were a little more refined, I'd bring them into the Records Office. Unlike the others in the Anomaly Destruction Hall, there's at least some room to persuade them."

Even if it was after the person who taught them cooking had died, wasn't it horrifying that they skinned that person's scalp, wore it, and ran the establishment in the original owner's place to repay the favor they had received?

What on earth was the average Anomaly Destruction Hall member like for him to say something like that?

* * *

Life in the Anomaly Destruction Hall was peaceful.

"Aaaaaagh!"

More precisely, life for the guards of the Anomaly Destruction Hall was peaceful.

Life was not peaceful for the prisoners of the Anomaly Destruction Hall's penal unit, who were treated as raw materials for rulebooks written in blood rather than ink.

Even those fortunate enough to be selected as investigators, excluding the unlucky ones made into test subjects for Anomaly byproducts, could not be called happy.

Golden needles had been inserted into every acupoint throughout their bodies, and restrictions had been placed upon their minds, so they could not recklessly draw upon their internal energy.

If they were prevented from cultivating entirely, their martial power would decline, so they were only allowed to circulate qi to the bare minimum.

Their restraints were lifted on the day they were sent into the field.

Usually, that day was also the day their death sentences were carried out. The Anomalies served as their executioners.

If they fought for their own survival, their executions would be postponed, but the survival rate for Anomaly investigations was low.

So even as they savored a feast, despair and joy coexisted within them.

The days when the Human-Skin Chef personally took up a knife and prepared their meals were a warning that they would soon walk into an Anomaly's jaws.

There were exceptions.

"You sons of bitches! Even death row prisoners are served good food right before their sentences are carried out! Where have you hidden our chef?"

Like now, when the Human-Skin Chef was away on a "more important matter" for the Anomaly Destruction Hall.

If preparations for field deployment were made on such a day, joy and pleasure vanished. It became a day of nothing but despair.

The Anomaly Destruction Hall guard snorted at the prisoners' outburst.

"Is this the time to worry about your meals? You should be thinking of how to survive."

The prisoners clamored. The reason they could defy the guards who held the power of life and death over them was simple.

They were doomed to die anyway.

The guards did not immediately execute prisoners just because they got on their nerves. Rather than waste precious internal energy handling them personally, they only had to raise the prisoners' priority for Anomaly investigations.

The prisoners knew that well. Most had been people with no backing even among the unorthodox sects of the dark path from the start, so prisoners screaming themselves hoarse at the guards and guards laughing at them for entertainment were part of daily life in the Anomaly Destruction Hall.

A chill suddenly settled over that loud, heated routine.

Click, clack. Footsteps rang out in an offbeat rhythm.

The guard watching the prisoners' struggle immediately knew who was coming.

"Life-and-Death Gambler?"

"Yay."

The Life-and-Death Gambler waved her right arm. Yet there were two hands moving, not one. She clutched her severed left forearm in her right hand.

The prisoners did not readily defy the Life-and-Death Gambler. It was not because she endangered their lives.

At least, the Life-and-Death Gambler herself did not think she harmed prisoners. She merely gave them opportunities.

A wager where success meant escape and failure meant death.

The Life-and-Death Gambler's wager was simple. If they joined her in an Anomaly investigation and added even a single line to a rulebook, they would be released immediately.

Yet no one who had accepted that wager had ever returned alive.

The Anomaly Destruction Hall also used the three categories of Heaven, Earth, and Human, as well as the ten-tier system of the Ten Heavenly Stems, when classifying Anomalies. Yet those only indicated the scale or speed at which an Anomaly killed people. They were not directly tied to the difficulty of exploration.

The Anomalies the Life-and-Death Gambler visited hated people very, very much.

They were dangerous things that went into a frenzy to answer every attempt to uncover their true nature with murder.

The prisoners therefore gave the Anomalies she often visited another name.

Forbidden Zones, or Taboo Anomalies.

Soso Soso, who was watching over the prisoners, looked at the Life-and-Death Gambler and asked, "It looks like you had a rough time. Where did you go this time?"

"Peach season is coming up, so I stopped by there and went up to heaven."

"Strange. There shouldn't have been anything there that could injure you."

"I lost a wager."

"Hm? Was a Records Officer there? What a shame. I could have dealt with them if I'd gone."

As befitted an alias composed of the characters for chatter, converse, vanish, and smile, Soso Soso was an assassin.

Soso Soso enjoyed talking with targets before killing them. They would become a travel companion for a night, chatting away together, then part ways by saying that their paths had diverged. Afterward, they would watch the target's expression.

If the target smiled and said Soso Soso had been a good companion, Soso Soso happily killed them.

If the target considered Soso Soso a strange person and felt uneasy, Soso Soso finished the assassination with regret.

Soso Soso's exceptional Stealth Art and powerful single strike made them one of the most capable investigators in the Anomaly Destruction Hall, but they enjoyed killing people more than dealing with Anomalies.

Nothing was more entertaining than watching the expression of a target wary of a traveler met at night gradually relax.

Anomalies were too consumed by their own resentment and too dull in their emotions. There was no real satisfaction in them.

That was why Soso Soso enjoyed making Records Officers into targets. They possessed exceptional insight and vigilance, enough to derive rules from Anomalies, and above all, martial skill.

The intellectual thrill of completely deceiving them and making them draw their final breath was comparable to solving a brilliant move in a game of go.

"Mm, if it was that sort, you would've been disappointed."

The Life-and-Death Gambler shook her head. Since the Records Officer had accepted her wager so easily, they did not seem especially vigilant.

There were two ways to survive Soso Soso. Either suspect them from the start, or never accept any traveling companion at all.

Unless an order came directly from the Black Lotus Society Leader, Soso Soso would not give up their pleasure. If someone refused to join the game from the beginning, Soso Soso lost interest and abandoned the assassination.

As soon as Soso Soso heard the Life-and-Death Gambler's assessment, they clicked their tongue. A Records Officer that careless. How boring.

"A newcomer?"

"Probably."

The Life-and-Death Gambler shrugged and muttered, "My hand is like this, so writing is difficult. Could you contact the higher-ups and summon the Soul-Reaving Demon?"

"Tch, fine. You only ever give me boring work."

"Who told you to make such a nuisance of yourself?"

Soso Soso had not left the Anomaly Destruction Hall for quite some time. The Anomaly Records Office even presumed them dead.

In a way, that was only natural.

"My period of confinement is ending soon."

"What confinement? We all know you got thoroughly beaten by Jade Scale and were bedridden afterward."

There had been a life-and-death duel between Soso Soso and Jade Scale, and Soso Soso had lost.

Jade Scale had seen him fall from a thousand-zhang sheer cliff, so the Anomaly Records Office had no way to learn that he had survived.

He recalled that Jade Scale had possessed a rulebook about him. That was only natural. The Ceremonial Affairs Department wrote rulebooks not only on Anomalies, but also on renowned figures of the martial world.

Perhaps it meant they considered him an important figure in his own way. If so, it was something to take as an honor.

What was humiliating, though, was that his martial arts had been countered exactly as written in the rulebook.

"The time is almost here."

It was time to turn the Anomaly Records Office's rulebook on Soso Soso into an obsolete relic.

Footnotes:

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