Influence

Hearing Chen Chuan's instructions, Wu Dajin, who had been completely cooperative just moments ago, hesitated. "But what about over at the ancestral hall...?" He didn't care about some flying head; he only cared about the townsfolk. As long as the people were fine, the head could fly wherever it pleased—was there really any need to chase down the remaining one? Chen Chuan saw right through his thoughts and said, "The head in the town is gone, but as long as this one remains, there's no guarantee the same thing won't happen again." Wu Dajin shuddered. That was indeed very likely. He immediately responded, "I'll get right on it!" Chen Chuan watched his hurrying figure depart. One couldn't really blame Wu Dajin for having narrow vision. Living in this world, many people cared only about what was right in front of them, keeping to their own circles and wanting nothing to do with outside troubles—interfering often brought nothing good anyway. By this time, most of the onlookers had scrambled away in panic, having realized the danger. Still, one had to admire the sheer tenacity of some rubberneckers; Chen Chuan spotted several people clinging to the barrier cord and craning their necks to watch even while vomiting—all they lacked was a phone in hand. Meanwhile, the two security guards still hadn't shaken off the influence and kept kowtowing relentlessly. Even having their shoulders slapped and shaken couldn't stop them. After waiting a moment, Wu Dajin grew impatient and barked, "Dammit, drag them under the newly built altar!" Seeing this, Chen Chuan thought it over. Forget it—might as well let them finish kowtowing all in one go. Having done it once already, setting up another altar was easy. The guards swiftly assembled it, led over another sheep, knocked it unconscious, and placed it on top. The crowd then stepped back to wait. In truth, once the flying head at Wujia Town was dealt with, the commission firms had fulfilled their obligations. They could have simply walked away—want us to deal with another flying head? Fine, issue another commission. The only reason they stayed was out of respect for Chen Chuan. They could tell that Chen Chuan had deliberately looked out for them earlier, so returning the favor was only natural. Besides, they didn't have to lift a finger, and frankly, befriending an expert capable of handling urban legends would always come in handy. Chen Chuan stood not far from the altar, watching the sky. He had no way of knowing whether the second flying head would be lured over after the first had been disposed of; for now, he was simply trying his luck. Yet the flying heads seemed virtually brainless. As the crude sacrificial rite began, the other head actually flew back before long. During that time, he had already reloaded his gun. The head circled overhead once, then dove toward the altar, immediately tearing into the sheep below. Chen Chuan regulated his breathing. Earlier had been his very first time dealing with such an entity, and to be honest, he had lacked experience, relying entirely on improvisation. This time, he had a good idea of what to expect. Stepping forward, he launched himself from just outside the flying head's zone of awareness, bursting forward like an arrow released from a bowstring, sweeping his blade through in a fluid arc! The strike was so swift and fierce that it not only sheared the flying head straight down the middle, but cleaved the dead sheep and the entire altar cleanly in two! The two halves of the flying head each twitched once and went still. Chen Chuan glanced at himself; the blurring effect across his body had deepened at the same time. He paid it little mind—compared to the cinema shadow he had faced last time, this was relatively mild. He gave his blade a light flick and walked back, instructing Wu Dajin, "Captain Wu, don't let anyone near these remains for now. Wait a few days until they decay on their own, then bury them in dirt." Wu Dajin took a look. Inside the cleaved flying head was nothing but grayish-black withered tissue, and the bifurcated face still wore that uncanny, half-smiling expression. Looking at it sent a shiver down his spine. He nodded, then asked anxiously, "Th-then, Commissioner Chen, what will happen to the people affected by the flying head?" Chen Chuan replied, "Most will recover after a few days of rest. But those who were affected particularly deeply... take good care of them." There was no telling what form the damage from these urban legends took. Every single person present today had suffered harm to some extent, varying only in degree. Those with breathing techniques and mutated tissue would likely be fine shortly, but ordinary people were bound to endure more severe effects—especially the elderly and children, who could hardly compare to young adults in their prime. Wu Dajin understood his meaning, though he had already prepared himself mentally. To him, this outcome was already remarkably good. He stepped forward, gripped Chen Chuan's hand firmly, and said solemnly, "Thank you, Commissioner Chen. The people of Wujia Town won't forget your help." He then cupped his hands to the surrounding commission firm personnel. "Thank you all as well. I appreciate you giving me face earlier. If any of you ever visit Wujia Town in the future, we'll be sure to treat you well." Most of the commission firm staff reacted rather coolly, with only a scattered few offering a nod or reply, but Wu Dajin didn't mind. Chen Chuan gave him a few more points to keep in mind, and once satisfied that nothing else remained, he got into Ren Shu's car to head back to the city. Having watched Chen Chuan handle the entire affair today, Ren Shu was filled with immense admiration. Unlike his other partners, whose impressions of commissioners came only from secondhand accounts, Ren Shu had actually witnessed some commissioners in action—and those had been ordinary incidents, nothing remotely as thrilling as today. Although their firm had decided to specialize in urban legend commissions, this had been his very first time seeing a real urban legend with his own eyes. The composure and poise Chen Chuan displayed from start to finish convinced him they had found the right man; an expert truly lived up to the name. He couldn't help asking, "Mr. Chen, are other commissions as effortless for you as today's?" Chen Chuan answered earnestly, "It's not effortless at all. Resolving an urban legend relies primarily on prior understanding, preparation, and adopting the right approach. If the method is wrong, the difficulty and danger increase tenfold or more." Recalling how helpless everyone had been before Chen Chuan's arrival, Ren Shu nodded in agreement. There was something Chen Chuan left unsaid: finding the right method was only one requirement. If urban legends were so easy to handle, others would have resolved them long ago. The constant, pervasive contamination they inflicted on people was bound to cause harm. Anyone exposed to such things over an extended period would inevitably suffer unforeseen consequences, which was likely why true experts in this field were so rare. It was only because he possessed the Second Self that he didn't need to worry too much about it. At that moment, he also realized that the mutated tissue within his body was slowly growing. This differed from the urban legend in the cinema, which had stimulated his mutated tissue on the spot and ceased once the entity vanished; this one only produced a delayed reaction afterward. Ren Shu asked curiously, "Mr. Chen, what exactly are those flying heads?" Chen Chuan said, "I'd like to know the answer myself, but regrettably, there isn't one yet. All we can do is resolve problems as they arise." He had read the dossiers Cheng Zitong provided. One current hypothesis was that, aside from the very first flying head, the others might well have transformed from actual human heads. The fact that two flying heads had appeared so close to Yangzhi City was enough to suggest that many more were cropping up along the perimeter. It seemed the Yangzhi Municipal Administration would be making major moves soon. Ren Shu glanced at him and ventured cautiously, "Commissioner Chen, I discussed it with my partners. Considering that future commissions might involve inconvenient travel, the firm decided to allocate two vehicles to you—one kept in the city and one for commissions out in the countryside. What do you think, Mr. Chen?" Chen Chuan nodded. "Sounds fine." Having vehicles made getting around much easier, aided commissions, and simplified carrying equipment. Moreover, he wouldn't need to worry about maintenance—it was quite convenient. Seeing him accept, Ren Shu beamed and pointed to the driver beside him. "Mr. Chen, what do you think of Xiao Wei? He's our firm's dedicated driver." Chen Chuan smiled. "Works for me." Ren Shu said, "Then, Mr. Chen, I'll purchase a garage near your school and install a telephone line. Xiao Wei will wait there on standby. Whenever you need him, you can call him directly. In the meantime, you'll just have to bother calling the firm's line." Chen Chuan replied, "Alright, Mr. Ren. Thank you for the firm's cooperation and consideration." He knew Ren Shu and his circle were not short on money. Ordinary commission firms would never offer such perks; you'd be lucky if they didn't dock your commission pay, not to mention making things difficult with mission ratings. Ren Shu waved it off hastily. "It's the least we could do!" The ride back went smoothly. Upon reaching the officer residential compound, Chen Chuan parted ways with him and went home. Over the past couple of days, Nian Fuli had already returned to the bureau, and Yu Wan had taken his young cousins out visiting relatives. Chen Chuan washed up in the bathroom, changed into fresh clothes, and returned to his room, switching on the radio on his desk. During the New Year, Nian Fuli's apprentice, Xiao Wu, had gifted him a new radio. Nian Fuli claimed he wasn't used to new models and passed it along to Chen Chuan. Static soon hissed from the speaker. He turned the dial a few times, tuning into a news broadcast, then drew the Xuejun Saber, took out a cloth, and began carefully wiping it down. As he wiped the blade, he clearly felt that the resonance between the Xuejun Saber and himself had deepened slightly, noticeably different from before. His eyes flickered. This showed that not only fighting humans, but battling urban legends could also stimulate the saber itself. Yet that seemed reasonable enough. If urban legends could stimulate his mutated tissue, they could certainly affect the saber as well. For now, he didn't know if it might damage the weapon, but considering the blade could repair itself, it likely wouldn't be an issue. Right then, a news item caught his attention. "A mass drinking water poisoning incident occurred in Wujia Town on the northern outskirts of Yangzhi. As many as several hundred residents exhibited symptoms of poisoning. Under the close attention of the Municipal Administration, the responsible parties have been strictly dealt with, and the public has been reassured..." A brief broadcast brushed the incident aside. That was roughly the official explanation for what had happened at Wujia Town. Then again, an affair like the flying heads truly wasn't suitable for public discussion; if word spread, people might try to imitate it. Still, the excuse of water poisoning... He pondered it. After cleaning the Xuejun Saber and returning it to its sheath, he unfolded a map of Yangzhi City and studied it. Two main rivers flowed through Yangzhi, both tributaries of the Xuan River, the largest river in Great Shun. One came from the west and cut straight through the city, while the other flowed from the southeast, skirting around the urban perimeter, passing through extensive industrial districts in the southeast, and heading north. Wujia Town sat squarely downstream. On the surface, the explanation appeared quite reasonable—perhaps a bit too reasonable, almost as if there had already been an existing issue there. As he was thinking, the telephone suddenly rang. He stood up, walked out, and picked up the receiver. Gao Ming's voice came through: "Cousin, are you home? Is it a good time to talk?" Chen Chuan said, "Aunt and Uncle aren't around, it's just me. Go ahead." "Good. Cousin, since I got back, I've spent these past few days combing through a vast number of case files, and I've reached a conclusion." Gao Ming's voice turned grave over the line. "If at all possible, I think you need to secure an unlimited defense license as soon as you can—the sooner, the better."