I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World-Chapter 24: My First Meeting with Ai-Chan

I Created Urban Legends in Parallel World

[Original – YakuMan]

[TL – MiT7]

[PR – Spades]

Chapter 24: My First Meeting with Ai-chan

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The uploader from that afternoon had tweeted the stream ID.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

By midnight, tons of people were camped in the Periscope room. When a couple of minutes passed with no show, the black screen got flooded with complaints.

But at 12:03 a.m., the feed lit up, revealing two figures.

One was the uploader—known only by their handle, "Magical Boy Maji-chan."

Maji-chan eyed the viewer count, visibly nervous, but quickly steadied himself.

He even clapped back at the haters in the chat. "Can't wait a minute or two? Total losers."

Bold move—starting off swinging.

He knew why they were here, though. Not for him, but for the Hell Girl buzz tearing through the net.

What started as a niche urban legend had blown up after 2ch's shutdown.

MPD's Fuchigawa Kazuma was still kicking himself...

"No chit-chat— it's just past midnight. Anyone who knows Hell Girl gets it: between 12 and 1 a.m., you hit up Hell Correspondence, type your grudge's name, and summon her."

Maji-chan looked like a teen, but he handled the massive audience with chill.

Maybe meeting Hell Girl did it. Or knowing he was cursed—damned after death—freed him up.

After his grudge got sent to hell, he'd shed his old timid self.

He wanted fame, to live big, different. That's why, with no one else stepping up, he took it on himself to school the masses about Hell Girl.

"Next to me is my friend in the mask..."

"They're keeping it low-key, so no intro. You all trashed me on Nico 'cause you think I faked it."

"This is live—no faking now. But before we call her, here's the rundown."

Maji-chan paused, then spoke evenly. "Tons of Tokyo folks online say they hit Hell Correspondence, typed a name, and got nothing—proof she's fake, right?"

"I'm telling you straight: you're doing it wrong."

"To reach Hell Girl, your grudge has to burn deep. Weak hate won't cut it."

"She only helps the truly desperate."

Kamihara Shinji, at his PC, narrowed his eyes, a glint of approval flashing. This kid had done his homework—nailed the rule.

The sparse chat exploded. They'd been listening hard.

The bombshell hit—half-doubting, half-stunned. But as a Hell Girl witness, Maji-chan had cred.

Especially for those who'd tried the site on 2ch. They'd entered names, doubters testing it out.

Now it clicked: they'd had no real hate, just curiosity.

No wonder she didn't show.

Meanwhile, in Shinjuku, under an apartment block, Aoji and Red Sound watched on their phones. Investigation Division 1 lurked nearby.

One word, and they'd storm in, nab Maji-chan.

Red Sound, a trendy guy with long hair, sharp features, an ear piercing, and a skull hoodie, chugged a cola, belching loud enough to turn heads.

Catching Aoji's deadpan stare, he grinned, pointing at the screen. "This guy for real?"

He was new to Hell Girl.

"Probably," Aoji said, eyes sharp. "Last night, I had Special Division test it with some crooks at midnight. No dice. Guess their grudges weren't deep enough."

This kid had seen her—might've cracked the code.

Ordinary folks lacked Spiritual Power, but some outsmarted inspectors, even survived anomalies by decoding their rules.

It'd happened before.

Aoji never underestimated sharp, cool-headed normals.

The stream rolled on.

"I know you still don't buy it. Fine, watch X's hands. If they meet Hell Girl, they'll get a straw doll."

X, masked, wore a long wig, fake, clearly. With the mask, their face was a mystery.

Nervous eyes peeked out, timid vibes all over.

Gender? Unclear.

X stayed mute as Maji-chan stepped aside. They slid to the PC.

The screen split: one half showed the site—Hell Correspondence, barebones.

The other, X.

X stared at it, silent, hands on the keys. Slim, pale fingers twitched with tension, veins popping.

Then... typing.

Three characters filled the box.

Kamikura Makoto.

X's breathing hitched, eyes wide. They slammed the enter key.

Click!

[Message Sent]

The stream froze on those words. Viewers held their breath, sparse comments trickled.

Then—black. Maji-chan's feed cut dead.

As countless viewers blinked, then raged "Baka!", Kamihara Shinji calmly grabbed his notebook.

He flipped to the last subpage under *Hell Girl*.

Text raced across it, logging the tale of X—real name Eguchi Rikuto.

He scanned it...

Suddenly, Kamihara jolted upright.

In his study, a girl in a sailor suit appeared out of nowhere.

Blood-red eyes locked on him.

Enma Ai.