The Ghost Fires of Rifu Highway

Episode 2: Rookie Officer Juku Runs the Highway!

"That chief never did an honest day's work in his life," Grandpa Juku said with a nostalgic, yet slightly exasperated grin.

"He was the type of guy who'd let his young, mud-covered officers do all the heavy lifting, then swoop in to steal all the credit. But the local deity was watching.

Every single time the chief stole someone's credit, bizarre things started happening to him. Out of nowhere, only his desk inside the station would get drenched by a localized rainstorm, or he'd be followed by the eerie howling of countless foxes on his night walks home.

The land's guardian was trying to teach him some humility."

And on that night, on the freezing, fog-shrouded Rifu Highway.

Twenty-year-old Juku stood at the very front of the checkpoint, swallowed by a heavy wool police coat that was a couple of sizes too big. An old truck charged through the fog, splattering mud everywhere.

"Pull over! Police!"

As Juku threw his body forward, waving his arms frantically, the truck screeched to a halt. Juku rushed to fling the driver's door open, only to find his childhood best friend, Denji.

"Are you seriously smuggling black-market rice!? Get out of the cab, now!"

Juku pleaded, desperately trying to persuade him. This was supposed to be Juku's first major bust—the career-defining handoff he'd tracked down all on his own.

But behind him, the arrogant chief came rushing over, his face flushed with greed as he shook his stout frame.

"Out of my way, Juku! This bust is mine! I can see the headlines now: 'Chief’s Daring Command Smashes Major Black-Market Ring!' Go stand watch over there, kid!"

The chief shoved Juku aside, practically drooling at the thought of snatching the glory.

At that exact moment, right as he tried to steal Juku's hard work—the atmosphere shifted. Deep within the fog of the highway, countless pale blue "ghost fires" suddenly began to float and rise.

"Wait... are those the ghost fires of Kinko and Yako?" Ayumu blurted out, digging into his mental catalog of folklore. "The stories say they pounce on people to snatch their food and gear, right?"

"Bullseye, Ayumu. You really know your stuff," his grandfather said, nodding warmly. "And the ghost fires that night weren't just glowing orbs. They looked exactly like the wild 'Yako' foxes leaped straight out of an old Edo-period scroll."

Floating out of the fog were spheres of light shaped like mischievous, almost comical fox faces. They had split-open mouths, sharp fangs, and bright red tongues hanging out. Like playful woodland spirits, they bounced and swirled around them, trapping the officers in a glowing ring of light.

And these ghost fires were every bit as greedy as the folklore claimed. Like wild foxes fighting over scraps, they lunged at the officers, snapping at their pockets and swarming the back of Denji's truck!

"W-What the hell is this?! These damn fox faces are biting my pockets!"

While the officers descended into pure chaos, the power-tripping chief saw something else entirely in those wild lights.

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🌐 Original Japaneseher:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/na41a0963ec5e

"Thank you so much for reading to the very end!"💗