Recorded Across Generations.
For Those Who Come After.
A tiger with a human face, a tiger's paws, and the tusks of a boar. It hunts beauty. The fairer the face, the more certain the kill; the ugly it scarcely spares a glance. In the west, the fairest face is always the first to vanish. It never tires, never yields. It can pursue a single foe through a day and a night of ceaseless battle without the slightest loss of strength. More dreadful still, every soul that dies beneath its claws rises to fight once more. The dead become its soldiers, condemned to wage war without end, as tireless as their master. Strike one down, and moments later he stands again among its ranks. The longer the battle endures, the larger its army becomes. No one has ever slain it. There was once a hunter who wounded it so grievously that, for the only time in memory, it abandoned the fight and withdrew. They say whoever eats its heart may command the dead as it does, sending the slain to wage war in their stead. Yet no one has ever claimed that heart, and so the tale remains only a rumour. The ugly live. The beautiful die first.
形如虎，人面，虎足，猪牙。 它生得好看便杀。容颜越盛，越逃不过它。至于那些相貌丑陋的，它连看也不看一眼。西荒之上，最标致的那张脸，往往最先没了。 它永远不会停。不累，不退，能追着你斗上一天一夜，气力却半分不减。更可怖的是，凡死在它爪下的，都要爬起来接着打。它杀过的人，一个个化作它的死卒，永不停歇，正如它自己。你斩倒一个，那人转眼又成了它的一员。仗打得越久，它的死军便越壮。 从没有人杀得死它。曾有一名猎人，将它伤得极重，逼得它弃战而退。也仅此一次。有人说，食其心者，能如它一般驱使亡者，教死人替自己厮杀。可谁也不曾取到那颗心，这话便始终只是一句传言。 丑的能活，美的先死。
棲 西荒 The western wilds
其狀如虎而犬毛，人面虎足，豬口牙，攪亂荒中。