My name was Li Tie. I came to Donghai City because I wanted my daughter, Niu Niu, to live with more dignity than I did.
After working myself to the bone at the construction site all day, every bone in my body felt as if it had been taken apart and reassembled. My clothes were soaked through with sweat, enough to wring water from them.
Only when midnight came, and that faint red glow lit up at the mouth of the alley, did this exhausted shell of mine seem to come alive again.
It belonged to a Hunchbacked Old Man selling soup buns, pushing a creaking wooden cart.
A ring of little red lanterns hung from the cart, while white steam rose from the bamboo steamers, carrying a meaty aroma that could seep into the cracks of a person's bones.
That scent was simply unreasonable.
No matter how much you had eaten, the moment you smelled it, it was like ten thousand hungry ghosts were roaring in your stomach.
All my coworkers had been poisoned by those buns.
After work, they would rather skip washing up than stay awake until midnight with bloodshot eyes, all for the chance to eat one.
"Old Li, are you waiting again tonight?" Fatty Wang from the lower bunk rolled over and asked as if talking in his sleep.
"Yes." I stared at the time on my phone, my Adam's apple bobbing unconsciously.
The old man had appeared out of nowhere half a month ago.
His soup buns had skins as thin as paper. With one gentle bite, scorching-hot broth so fresh it could send your soul flying out of your body would gush into your mouth with a hiss.
The filling was smooth, tender, and springy, so fragrant that it made you want to swallow your tongue.
Once you had eaten one, you could never forget it.
The foreman treated us to drinks that night, and I had a few too many. By the time I got home, it was nearly midnight.
The moment I turned into the alley, that familiar, intoxicating meaty scent seized my nose like an invisible hand and dragged me toward the cart.
"Boss, two soup buns." I shook my heavy head.
The Hunchbacked Old Man raised his face and grinned at me.
The ghostly glow of the red lanterns shone across his deeply lined face. His smile looked especially stiff, like a mask pasted onto his face. Only his mouth moved, while the cloudiness in his eyes did not ripple in the slightest.
He said nothing and slowly lifted the steamer lid.
An even richer aroma rushed at me, sobering me up by a good third.
I took the greaseproof paper packet and eagerly bit into one.
This was the taste! It was so delicious that every pore in my body seemed to open.
I wolfed one down in a few bites and was just about to eat the second.
Maybe the alcohol had heightened my taste buds, but I felt that today's filling seemed to have an almost imperceptible... toughness to it.
Like some kind of minced fascia.
I did not think much of it. What scraps had not ended up in construction-site boxed meals?
I took another bite.
Crack!
A crisp sound rang out, as though my teeth had hit a small pebble.
Frowning, I hurriedly spat the thing in my mouth into my palm.
Under the dim yellow streetlight, it gave off a faint glint in the lines of my hand.
It was neither a stone nor a fragment of bone.
It was a... tiny, translucent sliver with a pink curve.
A fingernail.
A chill shot from my tailbone straight to the top of my head, and my stomach instantly churned violently.
The soup buns I had just swallowed, mixed with alcohol, surged madly up my throat.
Fighting down the urge to vomit, I used hands trembling so badly I could barely hold anything to slowly tear apart the remaining half of the bun.
Mixed into that clump of sauce-red filling was a small white object.
I pinched it out with my fingertips.
It was a little finger, boiled pale and swollen.
Fear flooded over me like a tide. I felt as though I had fallen into an ice cellar, my blood no longer flowing.
I stared fixedly at the severed finger in my palm, my gaze freezing on one detail at its knuckle.
There was a faint, crescent-shaped old scar on it.
My whole body jolted as if struck by lightning, and I abruptly raised my own left hand.
It was completely intact, all five fingers accounted for.
But... that scar... that rough shape of the knuckle... When I was a child helping my family chop firewood, the sickle had slipped from my hand, leaving an identical scar in exactly that spot!
A phantom pain like needle pricks suddenly shot through the little finger of my left hand, as if it were echoing the severed finger in my palm from afar.
An utterly absurd yet uncontrollable thought slithered into my mind like a venomous snake:
My hand was clearly still there, but the finger in my hand was undeniably mine too.
When had I... already eaten... myself?
"Hah... hah..." A strange, wheezing sound leaked from my throat. I jerked my head up and looked at the Hunchbacked Old Man.
He was still standing amid the rising steam, smiling at me.
This time, his mouth had stretched into an inhuman curve, the corners nearly touching his ears.
On that face wearing a smile that was not a smile, only that scarlet gash continued to widen, as if it wanted to swallow this entire silent midnight, along with me.
"I ate my own finger?"
Qin Feng smacked his lips. Just imagining that scene made his stomach churn.
Normally, even finding a strand of hair in his food would disgust him for ages, let alone an entire finger—and his own, at that.
The afternoon classes were packed all the way until six in the evening. As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Qin Feng rubbed his aching temples and followed the crowd out of the teaching building.
Instead of heading straight for the cafeteria or the snack street outside campus as usual, he ignored the growling hunger in his stomach. Whenever he thought of food, Li Tie's bloody account and that little finger with its calluses and old scar surfaced in his mind.
"Damn it, I'm not eating!" Qin Feng cursed viciously, completely losing his appetite.
Should I rush straight to the old district in the north of the city and take out that old man selling Human Meat Buns?
Taking the subway from Donghai University and then transferring to a bus, even if I hurried, it would still take four hours.
It would not even be midnight by then. I would only get there to wait around.
So, I needed to make some preparations first.
I'm currently at the mid-stage Spirit Touch Realm. I can actively sense the cold yin energy around me, and my physical abilities are somewhat enhanced, but I still haven't surpassed human limits. My only weapon is the Scissors of Truth.
Even now, Qin Feng still did not have a clear understanding of his own strength. After all, he had only dealt with two urban legends, both through luck and props.
Do I have to go the artifact route again? But I haven't personally come into contact with these Human Meat Buns, so the system can't detect them. All the information is condensed in the previous witness records.
Hmm... the Human Meat Buns' characteristics: thin skin, lots of filling, delicious flavor?
Now I'm hungry again. At this point, I should eat first.
While eating a jianbing guozi from the snack street near Donghai University, he watched the mobile stalls nearby. Before the street-vending economy had been opened up, these vendors had been chased all over the place by urban management officers.
So what Human Meat Buns feared most was... urban management officers?
Once that thought emerged, it became like a wildfire sweeping across the plains, impossible to restrain.
The rules of anomalies often took root in humanity's collective subconscious and specific settings.
What was the most instinctive fear of street vendors, a profession so mobile and lingering on the edge of urban regulation?
Urban management officers!
Qin Feng's eyes gleamed with the excitement of a "heretical cultivator." He immediately took out his phone, opened the dark-gold "Netherworld" app, and directly selected "Contact Customer Service."
The call connected, and a courteous, professionally trained female voice came through. "Hello, collaborator 'Soul Reaper,' ID GHS-9527, Mr. Raven. Customer Service Representative 049 is at your service. How may I help you?"
"Raven? Oh, hello."
Qin Feng froze for a moment, then recalled that it was the ID Shen Bingyue had given him.
He cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound serious and professional. "I'm preparing to carry out an investigation into the E-class Anomaly 'Human Meat Buns' and require the organization to provide support in the form of special equipment."
"Certainly, Mr. Raven. Please provide the model or name of the equipment you require, and I will register your request." The customer service representative's voice remained sweet.
"I need a set of urban management officer uniforms, the latest summer model.
"Also, include matching identification. Use my app avatar for the photo."
On the other end of the line came eight long seconds of deathly silence. Only the faint static of electricity could be heard, as though even the signal itself was confused by such an absurd request.
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