Chapter 307

A speculative article posted on the internet.

It was from this article that the first clues began to emerge.

“Hey! This article seems to have some merit. Investigate it immediately!”

“Understood.”

“First, look through the available records and find a few people who might offer some insight.”

“Which individuals should we contact?”

“Folklorists, anthropologists, cultural anthropologists, archaeologists, historians… there are many possibilities. Handle it as you see fit.”

“Understood!”

To the people who had been unable to find even a hint of a clue, this internet post was like a lighthouse illuminating the way ahead, a bright torch cutting through the darkness.

Driven by this newfound lead, people moved frantically, seizing the opportunity with hope.

They scoured places where relevant documents might exist, examined records, and sought the opinions of those knowledgeable about Japanese culture and yokai. They didn’t stop there; those from rural areas even reached out to their village heads, asking if they knew anyone familiar with unusual incidents.

Their efforts were rewarded.

『 Record: “Knife Peak_Catfish_Investigation_Jukdari Village_Transcription 1.wmv”

(Creak—beep. Recording has started.)

Ah, starting the recording?

Let me recount that story about the water monster or the monk you asked for, right? Back in my time, we called it “Iwanabozu.” It wasn’t widely famous, but apparently, it was well-known among people living deep in the mountains.

During the Japanese occupation, I attended an ordinary school. There was a teacher who always carried a sword. He was one of those types always berating people with derogatory terms like “Cho-sen-jing” (Korean) or “Gaichi-jin” (outsider). If he didn’t like someone, slapping them across the face was routine, and sometimes he even disciplined children with sword sheaths.

Inoma had a foul temper but also a strange sense of mission. He believed he needed to educate those he deemed backward so they could become valuable workers for the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere.

Whenever students didn’t pay attention during class, his ranting was so intense it still gives me chills when I think about it.

But Inoma sometimes had good days. Perhaps he had received praise from someone important for being a good teacher. On those days, he would boast about the superiority of Japan’s culture and tell stories, including this one about Iwanabozu.

Once upon a time, there was a fisherman fishing late at night. A monk appeared, warning him not to carelessly fish and commit the sin of taking life. But this man wasn’t fishing out of malice; he tried to explain himself. He offered the monk half of his onigiri rice ball as a gesture.

Afterward, the monk simply left, eating the offered rice ball and warning him not to overfish.

Later, the fisherman caught a catfish. Thrilled, he went home and prepared to cut it open.

When he slit open the fish’s belly, guess what he found? The very same rice ball he had given the monk earlier popped out.

That’s when the fisherman realized something unusual.

The monk he had encountered earlier had been no monk at all but the fish itself — this is the tale of the fish yokai called Iwanabozu.

Did this cover what you needed? 』

『Transcript: “Iwanabozu – Fukushima Prefecture Oral Tradition”

Long ago, villagers in a remote mountainous area gathered by the river to fish.

A monk passing by admonished them not to commit sins by fishing. And it wasn’t just a brief warning. The monk actually sat down and began lecturing them endlessly.

The villagers, growing impatient, offered the monk some rice balls. He ate them happily and then vanished. Afterward, the villagers muttered among themselves about how openly demanding the monk had been.

As they continued fishing, they caught a fish far larger than usual — one as big as a person.

Overjoyed, they brought it back to the village and prepared it by slicing open its belly. To their shock, they discovered the same rice balls they had given the monk inside.

After that, none of the villagers ate the fish, and rumors spread about how the monk might appear again, so they began to stay on guard.』

Once people became familiar with the name “Iwanabozu,” it became easier to find information. They heard stories from elderly individuals who had lived under Japanese occupation, found records, and even gathered information from foreign universities and internet websites.

The biggest breakthrough came through a cultural anthropology professor at a prestigious university in the capital region.

“Oh, Iwanabozu. It’s considered one of the fairly well-known yokai. I know a little bit about it, but someone more specialized would be better to ask. About twenty years ago, I met a folklore professor at Keio University in Tokyo. We’ve kept in touch over the years, so I’ll give him a call. You’re probably more interested in the rituals or superstitions surrounding the yokai rather than the simple stories, right?”

The professor readily offered to use his connections for the government’s sake.

And the results?

They were astonishing.

“After talking to Professor Sato, we learned some interesting things. There is, in fact, a legitimate ritual related to Iwanabozu in Japan. It’s called ‘Iwanabozu Shadow Transformation Summoning Technique’ (岩魚坊主影形招喚術法). Apparently, it was once in the possession of a certain clan in Fukushima. They were once a distinguished aristocratic family from the Kamakura period but eventually lost their influence and vanished during the Japanese colonial era. The last heir supposedly attempted to revive the declining family but died in battle before he could do so… Perhaps as part of the discrimination and oppression the Aizu clan faced from the Meiji reformers, who wielded significant power during that era. It’s likely the heir was eliminated under the guise of war.”

“The Aizu people, though they had some influence in police organizations, were powerless in this situation. They weren’t in their territory, and the military’s power at that time was immense. Losing a family during wartime was not uncommon. This family was easily wiped out, and their treasures scattered. Among these treasures were cursed objects and documents recording details of rituals. Most of it likely fell into the hands of power holders or onmyoji (yin-yang masters). Concerning the ‘Iwanabozu Shadow Transformation Summoning Technique,’…”

“Even though no records survive, it’s plausible that it fell into either the hands of influential figures or onmyoji. Back then, the powers controlling clans and seizing their treasures were most likely from families we now consider right-wing or war criminals. If not that, it might have gone to the police forces, which were under heavy influence by yin-yang masters. Naturally, this is just my opinion.”

Through the professor’s help, the group learned not only about Iwanabozu but also about those who might possess the related rituals.

Thanks to this, the people were able to begin sketching out a rough outline.

They could at least tentatively guess who was behind this disturbance.

This was significant.

There’s a vast difference between blindly stumbling through complete darkness and moving forward with the faint light of moonlight guiding you.

And that outline grew clearer with each new piece of information.

“Manager! Remember the mermaid incident at Mt. Yeongin?”

“Yes, that mermaid? Why?”

“While researching Japanese yokai, I found this!”

『Amabie (アマビエ)

: A yokai from Kumamoto Prefecture.

Appearing from the sea with a radiant light, it foretells both epidemics and bountiful harvests.

With long hair and the form resembling that of a mermaid, its face resembles a bird and bears a beak.

It can speak human languages and offers protection from disease. When epidemics emerged, people were instructed to draw its image. Those who kept these drawings were protected from harm.』

“This is another Japanese yokai, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Huh. Another reference to Japanese yokai…? Wait, wait… Look at this… Could this really all be coincidence? Somehow, it doesn’t feel very likely.”