I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

Neon lights, Tokyo, night, 23:47 PM.

Even late at night, the Shibuya intersection was still teeming with people.

The four-colored neon lights dyed the night sky an ambiguous pinkish-purple hue, and the aroma of grilled meat and loud laughter wafted from the izakaya.

Office workers walked through the traffic with blank expressions and numb demeanor.

The high school girls in their uniforms are full of energy, and they've stopped to help foreign tourists take photos.

On the street, a young man nimbly glided across the sidewalk on a skateboard, creating a gust of wind.

The red light at the intersection turned on.

Hundreds of people stopped at the zebra crossing, heads down, scrolling through their phones.

The hushed conversations, the rumble of the tram passing by, the excited discussions of tourists, the distant honking of the sightseeing bus horn... countless sounds mingled together.

It's a night view that countless Tokyoites are accustomed to.

No one noticed that the sky above them was darkening at an abnormal rate.

"Hey, Tanaka, look at the sky."

Someone nudged their colleague, a hint of doubt in their voice, "Is it going to pour? Oh no, I didn't bring an umbrella, damn it!"

—The sky, which was originally bathed in orange light from the city's light pollution, was now shrouded in a layer of hazy fog.

The clouds that linger over Shibuya are now spinning at a visible speed, gradually forming a huge vortex.

Then, at the center of the vortex, an eye slowly opened.

There was no emotion whatsoever.

There is no color, only the ultimate black and white.

He simply watched quietly, and then looked away.

In the void where no one can hear, a listless voice drifts by:

[Don't bite off more than you can chew; let's skip this limited-time "Night Parade of One Hundred Demons" scenario.]

He simply looked away.

But the next second, in the shadows cast on the ground, tens of thousands of black mists gradually took shape, twisted, and finally turned into crying ghost faces.

The ghost face wept, emitting desperate howls.

Countless screams mingled together, mournful and plaintive.

Legend has it that there are eight million gods in Japan.

At this moment, these writhing black mists, like viscous asphalt, continuously emanated malice:

[神,神は private たちを舍てた (God, God has abandoned us!)]

[この地は神国によって不不された (This land is rejected by the Kingdom of God.)]

[Private qualifications for living in the Kingdom of God. God's private life gives up, God's land gives up

(We are not qualified to live in God's Kingdom; God has abandoned us and this land.)

[hate, hate, hate (hate, hate, hate)]

[ここはもう神の屋て场になった]

(This place has become a land forsaken by God.)

……

……

……

In mid-June, Wuhan seemed to have entered the plum rain season.

It's been drizzling for almost half a month, and the air is so humid it seems like mushrooms could sprout out of thin air.

The sky was overcast. Song Mo lay on a chair in the barbershop, his head resting on the edge of a ceramic slab.

This is a residential barbershop located at the entrance of an alley.

The storefront isn't large; it's probably a conversion by a first-floor resident.

The glass door was sparkling clean, and a thick canvas printed with peonies hung at the entrance.

There's always a warm, smoky smell in the shop, a mixture of Bee & Flower shampoo and sandalwood soap, that makes people drowsy.

Song Mo squinted, enjoying the boss's superb massage skills.

And from the ceiling above her head, half of the face of the vengeful ghost Ah Yan peered down, full of curiosity.

……

—To put it a bit perversely.

Even after he "died," Song Mo still quite enjoyed physical contact with living people.

"Little Song, staying up late writing again? Look at your skin, it's so cold. If a young girl's head is cold, she'll suffer from uterine coldness later on, and it'll be very uncomfortable when she has her period."

The shop owner, Sister Zhang, gently pressed her foam-wrapped hands onto Song Mo's scalp, her tone carrying the nagging quality of an elder:

"Young people shouldn't push themselves like this; health is the foundation of everything."

"Um."

Song Mo squinted and hummed in agreement, his voice lazy and casual: "I finished a manuscript yesterday, so I can take a break these few days."

Is there any screenwriter more hardworking than her?

He wrote the script for "The Jorogumo" overnight and released it, while also improving the dungeon rules for "The Ghost Subway of Great Britain".

There's a TV hanging on the wall opposite the hair washing area.

The local morning news was playing on TV, and the volume was low enough that she could just hear the host reporting on local news.

Vegetable prices fell this morning.

The community renovation project has been launched.

A resident was scammed out of 300,000 yuan after engaging in online nude chat.

It was all just mundane family matters, mixed with the gurgling sound of flowing water, which actually made Song Mo feel a little sleepy.

She was almost asleep.

Just then, the news broadcast on the television suddenly stopped.

First came a brief electrical hum, followed by the very familiar opening melody of the evening news broadcast.

News Broadcast?

Song Mo's drowsiness dissipated a bit, and he felt somewhat confused.

Legend has it that if the Earth doesn't explode, the CCTV Evening News won't have a holiday.

It's only a little past 8 a.m., why is the program that should have been broadcast at 7 p.m. starting now?

……

Sister Zhang also stopped what she was doing, and looked up at the TV with a puzzled expression:

"Hey, what's going on? Why are they interrupting the news so early in the morning?"

……

……

The television feed switched to CCTV's studio.

The background is a familiar blue globe backdrop, and the two anchors are dressed in standard suits with their hair neatly combed.

His expression was much more serious than usual.

The female anchor turned a page of her script, began to speak, her voice as clear and articulate as ever, but with a touch more solemnity than usual:

[Good morning, viewers. We are now broadcasting a special report.]

According to our Tokyo bureau, a large-scale abnormal cyclone occurred over the entire Tokyo metropolitan area at around 1:00 a.m. local time today. No warnings were issued by the meteorological department.

Following the formation of the cyclone, several unexplained violent attacks and a large number of people went missing in Tokyo.

Preliminary statistics indicate that the number of missing persons has exceeded 3,000, and the specific casualty figures are still being verified.

……

Song Mo's eyes were fully opened.

Three thousand people are missing?

Still in Tokyo?

Good heavens, which terrorist organization is carrying out this attack?

But what exactly is an abnormal cyclone?

Have the people of this world already developed weather weapons?

Sister Zhang kept staring at the TV: "Oh my, something big has happened in Japan? Three thousand people are missing, oh my, that's terrifying."

The female anchor's voice continued:

Currently, the Japanese government has activated a Level 1 disaster response, and the Self-Defense Forces have been dispatched to the affected areas.

The Chinese Embassy in Japan has immediately activated its consular protection emergency mechanism and is making every effort to investigate the situation of Chinese citizens in Japan.

Next, we have obtained footage from various sources.

Viewers are advised that the following scenes may be disturbing; please view with caution.

The scene quickly cut off.

Passersby also stood at the door of the barbershop, watching intently.

The sanitation workers in their uniforms held their breath, their expressions blank.

……

……

The first thing that appears in the video is a vertical screen shot taken with a mobile phone.

The camera was shaking violently, and you could see the photographer's hands were trembling intensely.

The background should be at the Shibuya intersection in Tokyo.

The sky was completely black; it was clearly the early morning, but there wasn't a trace of the brightness that city lights should have.

A huge, slowly rotating black cyclone hangs in mid-air directly above the city.

The clouds churned, like a giant eye overlooking the earth.

The scene was packed with people.

Office workers just off work, young people out late at night, Japanese people and foreign tourists dressed in suits, JK uniforms and trendy brands.

Everyone looked up at the sky, and a cacophony of Japanese voices mingled with the sound of the wind.

"What's the matter? It's black!" (What is that? Why is it so dark!)

"Abnormal weather conditions? Typhoon is coming? I'm reporting a typhoon!" (Weather conditions are abnormal? Is a typhoon coming? The forecast didn't say it at all!)

"変だな、この云、何かおかしい" (Something's wrong, this cloud feels weird.)

Some people were live-streaming on their phones, while others were pulling their friends back.

Some people even took out their phones to check the weather forecast, looking puzzled.

The legends of ghosts and monsters have long been scientifically verified, and various demons that exist in mythology have been beautified into cute or cool cartoon characters by the Japanese anime culture.

Even if the weather is strange, their first reaction is just that it's extreme weather.

The camera was tilted upwards, aimed at the center of the cyclone.

Just then, several huge black shadows suddenly fell from the clouds.

The shadowy figure moved with incredible speed, like a swooping eagle, but dozens of times larger.

A gust of wind crashed into the crowd.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!"

The first scream then erupted.

The camera suddenly shook, and the photographer staggered backward.

The camera lens was filled with people scattering and fleeing.

Cries, screams, and the sounds of objects falling to the ground were all mixed together.

Some people were swept up by the dark shadow and lifted off the ground instantly. Before they could even scream, they were dragged into the dark clouds in the sky.

Only a leather shoe lay on the ground, along with a pool of blood that was spreading rapidly.

"Run away! Run away early!" (Run! Run!)

"What's that? What's that!" (What is that? What the hell is that!)

"Help! Kenta! Kenta's connection!" (Help! Kenta! Kenta has been captured!)

The woman's heart-wrenching cries could be heard from the screen.

The camera shook even more violently.

The photographer ran with the crowd toward the subway station, stepping on scattered bags, phones, and broken high heels.

……

The screen suddenly switched to surveillance footage from a roadside convenience store.

The timestamp shows that it was 1:17 a.m. local time.

Heavy rain began to fall in Tokyo.

Large raindrops pounded against the glass, making a pattering sound.

The water on the street in front of the convenience store quickly rose above ankle level, pedestrians were running, and the store clerk was preparing to pull down the roller shutter.

Just then, a dark green shadow appeared in the rain.

It is only a little over a meter tall, with a slippery body, a bald head, shells on its back, short and thick limbs, and webbed toes.

It is a little monster in Japanese culture, the "Kappa".

But unlike countless idealized film and television images.

This "cute" monster was squatting in the puddles by the roadside, dragging a woman who had fallen down, straight toward the river beside the road.

The woman struggled desperately, her hands gripping the ground, her fingernails scratching bloody lines, as she let out a piercing scream:

[Help me! Help me!!]

The surveillance footage was silent.

The woman was slowly dragged into the water.

Finally, a few bloody bubbles rose to the surface of the water, and the kappa disappeared without a trace.

The scene was quiet, but everyone who saw it could feel the bone-chilling cold.

Immediately afterwards, the third scene cut in.

It was captured by the car's dashcam.

The windshield wipers were flailing wildly, indicating the driver was likely trying to escape.

The streets in the scene are empty, with only the rain curtain illuminated by car headlights.

Suddenly, something rolled across the street.

It was an oxcart.

The wooden car body was engulfed in flames, the fire a strange bluish-green.

The most terrifying thing was the wheels; in the center of each of the two huge wooden rims was a huge, hideous bald ghost face.

The face was wrinkled, the eyes were two black holes, and the mouth was split to the ears, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth.

The most terrifying thing is that this thing makes a strange, hoarse laugh as it rolls around.

"Yo-hohohohohohohoho!"

The dashcam captured clear footage:

The wheels of a car ran over pedestrians who were taking shelter from the rain on the roadside.

The human body was instantly pulled into the wheel, and the crisp sound of bones breaking could almost be heard through the screen.

The grotesque face opened its mouth wider and wider, revealing its blood-stained teeth.

The wheels rolled over, leaving only a pool of flesh and tattered clothes on the ground.

The driver let out a terrified scream, jerked the steering wheel, and the screen went black.

……

……

Sister Zhang's hands, which were washing her hair, completely stopped and froze in mid-air.

She didn't even notice the foam dripping down her wrist.

Song Mo blinked very slowly.

Kappa?

A human-faced oxcart?

Tengu?

Isn't this a bit too much of a coincidence?

Among the limited scripts she rejected was material from the Tokyo-based "Hyakki Yagyō" (Night Parade of One Hundred Demons).

……

……

The scene isn't over yet.

The fourth clip is a live helicopter broadcast from a local Japanese television station.

The camera is taken from a high altitude, showing the entire city of Tokyo shrouded in a black cyclone, with chaos visible below.

Fires were everywhere and people were fleeing.

The reporter's voice trembled as he gave a live report:

[We are currently over Shibuya, Tokyo. As you can see, the entire city is in chaos, unidentified creatures continue to appear, and there are heavy casualties on the ground...]

Before he could finish speaking, a huge black shadow suddenly appeared in the shot.

It was a bird, ridiculously large, entirely black, with a wingspan of almost ten meters.

He had a bright red face, a high nose, and a pair of fierce eyes as he charged toward the helicopter.

It is the classic Tengu image from Japanese mythology.

The reporter only had time to utter a short gasp:

"あれは...Tengu?" (That's...Tengu?)

This was followed by a loud crash.

"Bang!!"

The helicopter suddenly tilted to one side, and the camera spun wildly.

The sirens and the screams of the crew were mixed together.

The final image in the frame shows the giant, crimson eyes of the tengu approaching, and its sharp, knife-like beak.

"boom--"

The screen went completely black.

The live stream signal was interrupted, leaving only crackling static.

There was also a faint crunching sound of flesh and bone being chewed.