The Fantasy Short Story

“The Soul Collector’s Rival”
奇幻短篇小說〈勾魂使者的對手〉

1

Over the past year, I have been busy translating dozens of my books into foreign languages.

The reason behind this was that I had applied for official grants for literary creation and publication. Over the past more than ten years, I had submitted nearly twenty applications, and without exception, every single one ended without success.

Looking at those applications that received funding, many of them were local historical studies or relatively obscure topics. Gradually, I came to realize that perhaps I was not being treated unfairly without reason. It seemed that I had indeed been targeted by certain literary judges.

Three years ago, an old friend privately revealed something to me through a personal message, confirming that my speculation was not wrong.

The reason was that I had always been upright and outspoken in literary circles. I said what I truly thought and never cared to flatter others or curry favor with people in power.

As a result, I was regarded as a “hedgehog-type” literary critic—someone covered with sharp spines. I had offended people from all sides and was placed on the list of those who were “unwelcome.”

That was why I had repeatedly been suppressed and obstructed by various forces.

I decided to give up applying for grants in Taiwan in the future.

“Under this vast sky and endless earth, the one who refuses to play the game is the true winner.”

No one in Taiwan’s literary circles would ever be able to suppress me at will again.

After translating my works into Japanese, English, and French, I would find ways to contact overseas literary agents and publish my books abroad.

Perhaps one day, I might have the opportunity to be nominated by publishers for some international literary awards, such as Japan’s Kadokawa Literary Awards, America’s Pulitzer Prize, or France’s Prix Goncourt.

I comforted myself:

“Where there is a dream, there is beauty; where there is hope, there is companionship.”

At my age, becoming a “dream chaser” once again was still more meaningful than those silver-haired brothers and sisters around me who spent every day wandering through life like lost ghosts, living without direction.

Every day, I sat in front of my laptop for long hours, translating and typing.

Gradually, my eyesight became blurry.

So I first consulted my companion—ChatGPT.

Based on the symptoms I described, my companion judged that it was likely dry eye syndrome and suggested that I visit an ophthalmologist for an examination and begin taking care of my eyes as early as possible.

Therefore, I went to an eye clinic.

The doctor examined my eyeballs and vision, and it turned out to be mild dry eye syndrome.

The doctor prescribed artificial tears and anti-inflammatory eye drops, reminding me to maintain proper eye care, pay attention to eye hygiene, and avoid rubbing my eyes as much as possible.

2

One night about a week later, I was sitting at my desk on the third floor, typing and translating.

Outside the glass window, lightning flashed and thunder roared, followed immediately by heavy rain.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck the towering camphor tree outside my window.

Less than two meters away from my window, a thick camphor branch, as wide as a large bowl, burst into a fierce flame and was violently split apart.

My eyes were instantly struck by the intense flash of light.

A sharp pain shot through my eyeballs, and I temporarily lost my vision.

I hurriedly reached under my desk, pulled out my medicine box, found the artificial tear drops prescribed by my doctor, quickly opened my eyelids, and applied several drops.

I gently closed my eyes and rotated my eyeballs, allowing the drops to moisturize my eyes.

After several minutes, I opened my eyes.

To my surprise, my previously blurred vision had suddenly become crystal clear.

Even the dark corner of the elementary school playground across the river, and the raised fur on the back of a frightened calico cat hiding from the rain, were clearly visible.

It was as if I were seeing everything through an infrared telescope.

After that night, my pair of eyes opened the door to a fantastical chapter of my life.

The first strange event happened when I was taking a walk along a tree-lined alley.

I accidentally got my hair and face completely covered by bird droppings.

Although I was not particularly superstitious, my neighbor, seeing what happened, urged me:

“Go buy a lottery ticket quickly to get rid of this bad luck. Don’t be so stubborn and refuse to believe in fate.”

So after returning home and washing up, I went out for dinner.

Passing by a lottery shop, I turned inside.

Originally, I only intended to buy one or two lottery tickets to change my luck.

But I saw customers inside choosing scratch-off tickets and scratching them on the spot.

Curious, I walked over to watch.

I saw one customer choose two hundred-dollar scratch tickets, and one of them revealed a one-thousand-dollar prize.

After understanding the prize redemption rules, I suddenly felt an urge to try.

I asked the clerk to bring me a stack of scratch-off tickets so I could choose.

When I took the tickets one by one into my hands, a miracle happened.

When I concentrated my gaze on the lottery tickets, I could actually see through the metallic coating and clearly see every number underneath.

I was shocked by my own ability.

But I forced myself to suppress the excitement and trembling inside.

From that stack of scratch tickets, I found the two with the highest prizes:

one worth five thousand dollars and one worth two thousand dollars.

I decided to choose only those two and take them home to scratch privately, so that I would not cause unnecessary commotion at the shop.

3

Sure enough, my X-ray vision was real.

I could not help feeling secretly delighted.

After retirement, my life had suddenly entered a completely different mode.

I imagined the scene of “counting money until my hands cramped.”

Over the following days, to avoid arousing suspicion from shop owners and strangers, I rode my scooter across different districts and towns to buy scratch-off tickets at different lottery shops.

I was not greedy.

At each lottery shop, I bought only one ticket.

Then I brought it home, sat at my desk, and slowly scratched it open.

Afterward, I redeemed the prizes at banks in separate batches.

However, after only a few days, I began to worry.

How should I use all this unexpected money?

Buy a new car?

No.

That would attract my neighbors’ attention, and sooner or later someone would try to probe my situation through clever conversation.

Move away and buy a luxury house?

No.

Eventually, relatives and friends would discover it, come asking for loans, and try to build relationships with me.

My life would never be peaceful again.

Unless I changed my name, disappeared, moved to a place where nobody knew me, and cut off contact with all relatives and friends forever.

I repeatedly reminded myself:

Having unexpectedly gained the ability to see through things, I had to remain even more low-profile.

I needed to live a simple and ordinary life, otherwise endless troubles would follow.

I continued living the same retired life as before—staying mostly at home and rarely going out.

Every day, I devoted most of my time to translating my own works.

When I became hungry, I rode my scooter outside, went to a noodle stall, ordered a bowl of noodles and two side dishes of braised foods.

Otherwise, I simply bought a boxed meal to take home, along with a cup of bubble tea.

4

This situation continued until I went to a large teaching hospital for a fecal occult blood test for colorectal cancer. During the routine stool sample collection, I discovered at the hospital that these eyes of mine could actually see strange silver numbers appearing on the foreheads of some critically ill patients.

At first, I could not understand what special meaning these different numbers represented. It was not until I passed by the emergency department and saw a hospital bed being pulled down from an ambulance.

Lying on the bed was an injured man whose chest and abdomen were wrapped in gauze. Blood had clearly seeped through the bandages. His arms were covered with tattoo patterns. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose. On his forehead appeared a silver number: “0.”

Only then did I suddenly realize that these different silver numbers might represent something.

Curious, I followed the hospital bed into the emergency room. I saw two doctors and two nurses quickly and skillfully intubating the injured man and performing CPR.

I hid inside the entrance, beside the curtain of another hospital bed, and watched for more than ten minutes.

Eventually, the pulse line on the cardiac monitor became a straight line. The nurse covered the injured man’s face and head with a white cloth.

My guess was proven correct.

The number “0” represented the final moment before this injured man’s death.

Then I looked around at the patients lying in the emergency room beds. Two unconscious patients who were already intubated had silver numbers appearing on their foreheads: “1” and “2.”

After returning home from the hospital, during the following two days, those silver numbers appearing on people’s foreheads kept turning over and over in my mind.

I wondered:

“If one day I see a silver number appearing on my own forehead in the mirror, and my life has entered a countdown, what can I possibly do?”

Therefore, I made a decision.

Since I was no longer short of money, why not enjoy life while I still could?

Thinking was not as good as acting immediately.

I bought a camper van, brought my laptop and some simple belongings, and began a trip around Taiwan.

During the journey, I continued translating my books. Whenever I became tired from working, I would go sightseeing, visit night markets, stroll through old streets, and taste local delicacies from different places.

5

On the seventh day of my island-wide journey, I was driving my camper van along the eastern coastal highway.

A temporary roadside checkpoint had been set up ahead. Several traffic police officers were stopping vehicles to conduct inspections for drunk driving and drug-impaired driving.

A young traffic officer signaled with his hand for me to stop.

I lowered the car window and discovered a clear silver number appearing on his forehead:

“2.”

I froze for a moment and thought:

“Only two days left…?”

I fell into a brief internal struggle.

Finally, I decided to warn him.

“Officer.”

The police officer frowned.

“Sir, is there something wrong?”

I lowered my voice.

“I know this will sound strange, but please believe me. During your duty over the next two days, you must wear a bulletproof vest.”

The officer looked completely confused.

“A bulletproof vest? We’re only handling traffic duties. I’m not a detective.”

I stared at the number on his forehead.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I truly hope you will believe my warning. This is not for my sake, but for your family.”

The officer originally wanted to laugh, but after seeing my anxious expression, he still nodded.

“All right. I’ll remember your warning. Thank you, sir.”

I took out a sticky note.

“This is my phone number. If you are safe two days from now, please call me and let me know.”

Three days later, at Kenting Baisha Bay, lying sideways on a lounge chair beneath the coconut trees, I was scrolling through my phone when it rang.

A trembling voice came through:

“Sir… I’m the traffic officer Xiao Xie. You were the one who left me that note.”

“Hearing your voice, I’m relieved. Congratulations on surviving this disaster.”

“Last night, I was chasing a drunk driver. Unexpectedly, the man rolled down his window and fired several shots at me from close range. Fortunately, I was wearing a bulletproof vest at the time…”

He was silent for several seconds.

Then he continued:

“If it hadn’t been for your warning, I might already have…”

“My parents want to thank you in person. When will you be passing through Taimali, Taitung?”

I sighed emotionally.

“Officer, I’m glad you didn’t think I was a lunatic at that time. As for thanking me in person, there’s no need to trouble yourself.”

The next day, a local news report appeared:

“Mysterious Elder Predicts Traffic Officer’s Fatal Disaster? Police Officer Miraculously Survives Armed Attack.”

Looking at that news report, I knew that my intervention had changed his fate in time.

6

Two days later, I arrived at Donggang Fishing Port.

After enjoying a seafood meal at the local Overseas Chinese Market, I wandered over to the fish market beside the harbor.

I saw an old fisherman preparing to go out to sea with his crew.

At the same time, silver numbers appeared on their foreheads:

“3.”

I had a premonition that this group of fishermen was about to encounter danger.

I quickly called out to the old fisherman.

“Brother, don’t go out to sea this time.”

The old fisherman turned around.

“Little brother, I’ve made my living from the sea for forty years. I understand the weather better than you do.”

I smiled bitterly.

“I know you have rich experience, but please believe me this once. This isn’t about the weather. When your fishing boat is operating in the Taiwan Strait, you may encounter a pirate attack.”

The old fisherman waved his hand.

“It’s bluefin tuna season now. Hundreds of boats from our fleet go out together every trip. Even if we encounter pirates, the fishing boats will support each other. Pirates won’t easily succeed.”

I spread my hands helplessly.

“Brother, I have said all I can. Since you won’t listen, just pretend I never said anything.”

The old fisherman asked curiously:

“Are you a fortune teller?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because I don’t want to see you and your whole crew lose your lives needlessly at the hands of pirates.”

The old fisherman stared into my eyes and remained silent for a long time.

“Coincidentally, yesterday when I inspected the fishing boat engine, I found two oil leaks. If we don’t fix them immediately and force ourselves to go out anyway, there’s no guarantee we won’t break down in the middle of the sea.”

“That’s right! My feeling is that when your fishing boat breaks down and drifts on the ocean, nearby pirate ships will notice you. Then you and your crew could all become victims.”

The old fisherman rested his chin on one hand and thought for a moment.

“You’re right. That is something to worry about. I’ll listen to you. I’ll fix the engine leaks first and go out to sea a few days later.”

I left him a sticky note with my phone number.

“On your next trip out to sea, after you and your crew return safely, remember to call me.”

He asked:

“Young brother, what exactly did you foresee?”

I answered:

“I just don’t want to see anyone lose their life in an accident.”

The next day, I took a boat to Xiaoliuqiu Island.

I found the seaside guesthouse I had booked online and moved into an ocean-view suite.

I stayed on the island for several days.

While I was packing my luggage and preparing to check out, I received a call from the fisherman.

“Brother, you were right. Our fishing fleet encountered a Philippine Coast Guard patrol boat in the Taiwan Strait. One of our companion boats, the Guang Da Xing, was shot at by the Philippine Coast Guard. The captain was hit and died because rescue efforts failed.

If I had not listened to your advice this time, and my fishing boat had broken down and drifted at sea, everyone on my boat would have become a sacrifice.”

I said:

“Brother, actually, it was your own awareness of danger that saved you in time. I merely gave you a kind reminder.

Please don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want any media attention.

I’m asking you, brother.”

“But brother, my son has already posted this matter in our family group chat. However, you never told me your name back then, so it shouldn’t cause you any trouble, right?”

7

Near noon, at the entrance to a hiking trail in the Dawu Mountain area, I saw a young girl preparing to hike alone. She carried a backpack on her shoulders and held a walking stick in her hand.

A silver number “1” appeared on her forehead.

My heart skipped a beat.

I decided to be nosy one more time.

“Miss, the weather forecast says there will be a severe rainstorm in the mountains tonight. Don’t risk going up today.”

The girl smiled.

“Uncle, are you trying to hit on me?”

I looked embarrassed.

“No, I’m not. I just want to remind you that hiking in the rain can easily lead to accidents. I just checked the weather forecast on my phone, and I’ve decided to give up going into the mountains and head back down.”

The girl pointed at her backpack.

“But I already planned this trip, and I brought all my equipment.”

“Look at your hiking shoes. The tips are already worn out. If you climb in heavy rain, the mountain trails will become slippery and dangerous.”

The girl lowered her head and checked her shoes.

“All right. Actually, while walking up here just now, I felt like my period came earlier than expected. I forced myself to keep going despite feeling uncomfortable. The whole way really was difficult.”

“Let’s go down together. At least we can look after each other. There’s a farm stay down the mountain that provides local mountain cuisine and lodging. If you’re willing, I’ll treat you to a simple vegetarian meal, and then you can decide what you want to do next.”

The girl agreed.

The two of us chatted as we walked down the mountain.

That evening, while we were eating at the farm stay, a torrential rainstorm arrived exactly as predicted.

The heavy rain continued until late at night, so we decided to stay there for one night.

The following afternoon, a massive landslide occurred in the mountain area.

The section of road that the girl had originally planned to travel through was completely blocked by tons of falling rocks and soil.

When the girl saw the news report, her eyes turned red.

“Uncle… if I hadn’t met you yesterday, I might have already…”

I smiled calmly.

“I just happened to arrive at the trail entrance. I just happened to meet you. You simply happened to make a choice.

And that choice changed your fate.”

8

Several months later, a legend began spreading online.

People said that an elderly man with gray hair would, during his travels, timely warn people facing disasters and help them escape their destined deaths.

Some called him:

“The Opponent of the Soul Reaper.”

Others claimed:

“He is a messenger sent back to the human world by the Grim Reaper.”

Some even produced online videos with dramatic storytelling:

“The Opponent of the Soul Reaper: Those Who Were Saved by Him During His Journey.”

The videos collected several stories and interviewed several people involved:

• The traffic officer who was warned to wear a bulletproof vest.
• The old fisherman who avoided a pirate attack.
• The hiking girl who escaped a mountain landslide.

The comment section began exploding with discussions:

“Who exactly is he?”

“Is he making bets with the Grim Reaper?”

“Why is he always able to intervene whenever the Grim Reaper arranges a death event?”

“He is not predicting death. He is fighting the Grim Reaper to save lives.”

Sitting on a lounge chair beside my camper van, I looked at the discussions online.

I thought:

“I am not a god, and I am not a hero.

I just see some numbers.

I just… cannot bear to watch a life disappear.”

At that very moment, I suddenly saw a silver light appear on the back of my hand.

It was not a number.

It was a string of mysterious symbols.

For the first time, I felt a sense of mission.

Because I suddenly understood:

Behind those silver symbols, perhaps there was not death.

Perhaps they represented a mission I would have to carry out in the future:

To continue fighting the Grim Reaper for human lives.

(The End)