Blade of the Demon Hunt

On an early summer morning, a cool breeze brought a refreshing chill. As human society's technological advancements surged, so too did the crime rate, with non-natural deaths and disappearances increasing year by year. Where humans gathered, dark creatures thrived.

Miracle City was a bustling metropolis, but at this moment, a street far from the city center was eerily quiet, with few pedestrians passing by.

Amir had just jumped out of a taxi and started running. After staying up late the previous night, drinking a bit too much with a friend who was heartbroken, he had overslept today. As he was running, a shadow suddenly rushed out of a nearby alley and collided with him. Amir was knocked to the ground and was about to curse, but the person who had bumped into him leaped up, as if being chased by a wild beast, and ran off without looking back.

"How rude," Amir thought to himself, watching the person disappear into the distance. Just as he was about to get up, he felt something hard beneath his palm, cold and different from the stones on the ground. Curious, he picked it up.

It was an unusually shaped dagger, no longer than a palm, with a blade that twisted like a serpent. The blade was covered in rust, looking anything but sharp. Amir wondered if it had been dropped by the person who had just bumped into him. As he absentmindedly ran his fingers along the blade, he suddenly felt a sharp sting at his fingertip. Before he could pull his hand away, a drop of blood seeped from his fingertip and fell onto the dagger's seemingly dull edge.

The rusted blade suddenly flashed with a bright light, causing Amir to instinctively close his eyes. When the light faded, he slowly opened them and looked down. The rusted dagger that had been in his hand just moments ago had vanished without a trace.

Amir stared at his empty palm, confirming several times that there was nothing in his hand. Only the stinging pain in his fingertip reminded him that what had just happened wasn't a dream.

"Could it be that I'm still drunk and hallucinating? No way," he thought. "With my alcohol tolerance, a few drinks shouldn't cause such a strong effect."

"Wait, what's this?" Amir noticed something on his sleeve and quickly pulled it down.

"What the hell?" Amir exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. He found a strange symbol on the underside of his wrist, roughly five centimeters long and two centimeters wide. The shape resembled a black cross, but the lines forming the cross weren't straight; they were twisted and snake-like, giving the whole symbol an eerie appearance.

"What's going on?" Amir rubbed at the mark vigorously, but even after his skin turned red, the symbol wouldn't come off. "I never even rebelled as a teenager, and now I suddenly have a tattoo? How am I supposed to explain this?"

Sitting on the ground in a daze for what felt like an eternity, Amir struggled to process the surreal events that had just unfolded. The sudden ring of his phone snapped him back to reality.

"Amir, where are you? Do you even know what time it is? Do you not want to attend the company interview?" Abbas's urgent voice blared through the phone as soon as Amir answered.

"Dammit, I'm on my way!" Amir shouted as he suddenly remembered his interview. He jumped up, brushed off his pants, and sprinted down the street. "Crap, I almost forgot the important stuff!"

When he finally reached the location, Abbas was already waiting outside the building.

"Eight twenty-five. Cutting it close, huh?" Abbas greeted him with a scolding tone.

"You've got some nerve to blame me. If it weren't for you dragging me out for drinks last night, I wouldn't have overslept!" Amir shot a glare at his lifelong troublemaker of a friend.

"Alright, alright, it's all my fault. But hey, I just went through a breakup, and I wasn't exactly in a great mood. Now hurry up and get in there! The interview starts in five minutes." Abbas said, pushing him towards the building.

"Wait a second, Amir... You're going in there dressed like that?" Abbas suddenly stopped, looking at Amir with a shocked expression.

"What's wrong? Isn't this suit fine?" Amir asked, confused. After all, they had bought this suit together.

"The suit's fine, but... your shoes," Abbas pointed at his feet.

Amir followed Abbas's gaze downward and immediately wanted to dig a hole and hide. He had run out of the house wearing slippers.

"What am I gonna do now?" Amir felt like banging his head against the wall, his face full of despair as he looked at Abbas.

"I've seen some dumb things, but this takes the cake." Abbas shook his head in disbelief. "There's no time for you to go back and change, so you'll have to make do with mine." Without hesitation, Abbas swapped shoes with Amir.

There was a noticeable difference in their heights—Abbas stood at 1.85 meters, with a sturdy build, while Amir was only 1.76 meters and much slimmer. The shoes were two sizes too big for Amir, so they stuffed some tissue paper in the heels just to make them fit.

Amir wobbled his way to the interview room, noticing that several people were already waiting outside. He found an empty chair and sat down, joining the others in the wait.

As soon as he settled in, he felt a pair of eyes on him. Glancing up, he saw a heavily made-up woman sitting across from him, sizing him up. When their eyes met, she didn't look away; instead, her gaze lingered, filled with disdain and contempt.

Great, he was being judged. Sure, he hadn't had time to style his hair properly that morning, but did that really warrant such a look? He couldn't help but think, With makeup that thick, can your own mother even recognize you?

After silently venting his frustration, Amir ignored the woman and sat up straight, waiting patiently for the interview.

After a short wait, the heavily made-up woman was called in first. About ten minutes later, the secretary emerged again and called out, "Amir, you're next."

Hearing his name, Amir stood up. The secretary gave him a quick once-over, her expression unchanged as she maintained a polite smile. "Please follow me," she said.

Amir quickly followed the secretary into the room. As he stepped inside, the heavily made-up woman from earlier was just exiting. Out of courtesy, he stepped aside to let her pass. However, whether intentional or not, the woman's heel caught on the back of his shoe. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue, but today, with his ill-fitting shoes, Amir lost his balance and stumbled forward, crashing into the secretary.

The sudden impact caused the secretary to lose her footing and start to fall forward, her papers flying out of her hands. At that moment, Amir experienced a surreal sensation—as if time had slowed down around him. Everything moved in slow motion, giving him just enough time to react. Without thinking, he reached out, wrapping one arm around the secretary's waist to steady her, while his other hand deftly caught the falling papers.

As soon as he completed these actions, time seemed to snap back to normal, leaving Amir bewildered by what had just happened. "What just happened?" he thought, frowning in confusion.

Amir sensed the strange atmosphere in the room and looked up, only to find everyone staring at him in stunned silence as if witnessing something bizarre. It dawned on him that he was still holding the secretary's waist. He quickly helped her up and handed her the scattered papers, apologizing awkwardly, "Sorry about that."

The secretary, still in a daze, took the papers without fully grasping what had just happened.

Amir then noticed that one of his shoes was missing. He looked around and found it sitting on the desk in the middle of the room, right in front of the interviewer.

The interviewer, a man in his early thirties, looked slightly ridiculous with his once-handsome face now contorted in surprise. It seemed he had only just noticed the lone shoe on his desk.

Amir's frustration reached its peak. He felt utterly mortified, wishing he could find a place to hide.

The interviewer cleared his throat and, regaining composure, looked down at the documents and said, "Mr. Amir, your shoe." He lifted the shoe and handed it back to Amir.

With a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness, Amir leaned against the wall and hopped over to take the shoe. He awkwardly thanked the interviewer, but as he reached out, he felt a sudden, intense heat on his wrist. Instinctively, he pulled his hand back, causing the shoe to slip from their grasp and fall to the floor.

Frowning, Amir looked at his wrist and noticed that the strange symbol on it was glowing slightly red. The heat was clearly coming from the symbol. At the same time, he noticed a thin wisp of black smoke hovering above the interviewer's forehead. This sight stirred a sense of unease within him, and he felt his blood rushing through his veins faster than usual.

What is happening?

Amir stood frozen for a moment before he realized what was going on. With a blush of embarrassment and the interviewer's curious gaze on him, he bent down and put the shoe back on. As soon as he did, the heat and the black smoke vanished, and the strange sensation in his body eased, as if it had all been a figment of his imagination.

After the awkward incident, the rest of the interview went much smoother. However, Amir's mind was preoccupied with the strange occurrences from earlier, and he barely remembered the questions asked or his answers.

As expected, the interview ended in failure.

Since graduating from college, Amir had been living alone in Miracle City. He initially worked at a private company with a modest salary but enjoyed the relatively relaxed environment, which allowed him to pursue his interests.

However, his manager was harsh and rather sleazy. About a month ago, Amir had caught the manager harassing a new young female employee. Without hesitation, Amir confronted the manager and gave him a punch. Standing up for justice, however, led to his own dismissal.

While some people applauded his actions, no one was willing to speak up on his behalf. Amir wasn't particularly upset, understanding that people generally avoid trouble. He knew that in most cases, people prefer to stay out of conflicts.

Although his meager savings were enough to sustain him for a while, continuing to live off them would eventually lead to a life of begging. To avoid becoming a beggar, finding a job had become his most important priority.

In the following days, Amir spent his time endlessly sending out resumes, attending interviews, and facing rejection.

The constant failures left him feeling disheartened. One evening, after drinking alone at a small restaurant near his home, he came out to see two familiar figures.

Amir looked curiously at a man and a woman in the distance. The woman was indeed the heavily made-up woman he had encountered during the interview. However, he wasn't entirely sure about the man, but he seemed very much like the interviewer.

What were they doing here? If the man was indeed the interviewer, were they two involved in something inappropriate during the interview? The man looked well-dressed, which made it surprising, and his taste seemed rather low. Of course, Amir only speculated idly in his mind, as other people's actions had little to do with him. Just as he was about to turn away, he suddenly saw something strange.

Amir initially thought he was seeing things, but upon focusing closely, he confirmed it wasn't an illusion. The man's head had faintly developed two horns that seemed to be made of black smoke, appearing extremely eerie and ominous. At the same time, his wrist began to feel a faint heat, different from before, but still present.

Amir was almost certain now that the man was indeed the interviewer from that day. Each time he encountered this man, the pattern on his wrist reacted, suggesting it wasn't a coincidence.

As Amir pondered this, he saw the two people exchange a few words and then head in the opposite direction from where he was.

What to do? Should he follow them? Amir wrestled with himself internally. He felt that everything was unusual and could be dangerous, but it also seemed connected to the pattern on his wrist. His instinct to avoid dangerous situations was overpowered by his curiosity. He decided to quietly follow them.