There, I saw the most wonderful sight of my whole life, and even if I lived to be a thousand years old, I would never see anything more wonderful than this.

Closer to human than any Vastaya, closer to the beauty of nature than any human I have ever seen, the creature in front of me, bathing on the other side of the lake, with fox ears and tail, but without a trace of it—it is not necessary to depict it too specifically here, so as not to upset the young or sensitive reader—made her look very, very much like a human woman.

Very much like that.

Soaking in the pond, I could only vaguely see her figure, mouth stammering, water marks running down my haggard body, my mind desperately searching for words of greeting. Perhaps I could call myself a well-known writer and read some glowing comments for her. Or, I could sing her a ballad love song that I wrote specifically for this situation.

However, before I could think about it, there was a sudden commotion in the grass behind me, which startled me. I instinctively looked back at the source of the movement, but nothing showed up. I turned around and found that the glorious fox woman was gone, leaving me at a loss, my mind full of questions, and the first words on my lips, "Oh, my dreams, my love, my longing companion", and my face was full of indelible embarrassment.

I had decided to beat the thing that made a noise until I fainted, but it turned out to be a human, a berry and ginger vendor from a distant village, and although his ginger looked delicious, I didn't taste it, because I wasn't sure if I could resist the urge to slap it on his smiling face.

Shay (his name) solemnly warned me not to bathe in the pond, as the water in the pond and the occasional fox woman bathing by the lake would pose a threat to my health. I told him that scaring a naked, emotionally distracted man would be a threat to his health, and he just smiled.

After I got dressed, the merchant agreed to take me back to the world of human civilization and answered many questions. In return, I offered my hat (Jin Rushi Men's Clothing Store, retail price of fifty-three silver wheels).

He told me that their family had known this strange woman for generations—so she, like the rest of the Vastayas, lived longer than the average human. Some Vastayas are said to live for thousands of years, while others are said to be immortal in rumors and legends. Shah told me what the creatures were called in Ionia, when I had called them "Phantom Tasma" until then, and now the merchant laughed at the way I named them. That's why I changed the previous record from "Phantom Tasma" to "Vastaya", mainly from the perspective of humanistic concern, because the only thing that can be compared to my rhetoric is my humility.

We walked together for a few days, and he would occasionally stop to smell like a hound hunting prey. I asked him what he was doing, and he just smiled faintly and told me that he was looking for treasure. Although his inexplicable behavior disgusted me a little, her behavior of sniffing like a wolfdog suddenly made me think of a question, and I immediately asked him: if the Vastayas were a fusion of humans and ancient transfiguration ancestors, what if this bloodline was diluted to the limit in the process of reproduction and spreading? What would it look like if a person had Vastaya blood, but not enough to manifest a heterozygous animal form?

At this point, he stopped sniffing and his eyes widened. He looked at me, smiled and said, "In that case, they should be able to change their form as well, don't you think?" Then the dog mongrel turned into a pig and arched a piece of mercerized matsutake out of the ground.

What surprised me was not only the shapeshifter, but also the three different kinds of Vastayas I met in just a few months, and while luck always favored learned people like me, it was too often. Of course, I still have to point out that the "man who can turn into a pig" is a step backwards compared to the "charming and sultry fox woman".

If this continues, the next Vastaya creature I encounter will probably look like a standing and walking cockroach.

In recent months, I've been doing my best in Ionia to search for information on the different species of Vastaya, hoping to build a comprehensive taxonomy of the fauna of Runeterra.

While I've gathered a great deal of information about the Vastayas, there's still a lot to be discovered – and I suspect that if I limit my research to Ionia, I'll only see the tip of the iceberg of the entire phylum of diversity.

But it's time to turn the page – I've knocked on Vastaya's door, and I'm ready for another journalist to enter the field. Today, I'm turning my attention to other mysterious creatures in the Land of Runeterra, whose stories are still unwell known. For example, the terrifying living weapon, the Darkspawn. For example, the embodiment of a corrupted entity, a void creature. For example, the legendary little fairy who is rarely seen, the yodelers. These stories must be known to the world, and in order to keep my promise, I will embark on a journey of discovery. After all, I'm the only one who can do it.

Two weeks after the submission of this manuscript, Mr. Santangiro returned to Ionia in his personal capacity, claiming that he had come to "inquire more about the fox woman—simply for the needs of the second edition."

A few weeks later, we received a letter from Mr. Santangiro that reads as follows:

"I had a misfortune. I was kidnapped by a bunch of brutal and unreasonable guys who called themselves the Navoli Brotherhood and suspected me of being a Piltover spy. Ridiculous, I am a noble, talented, athletic, and suave allegation, and this accusation is an insult to me.

Still, I persuaded them to take me hostage and demand a ransom instead of executing me on the spot. So please send me some precious ores, or food, or weapons. Quantitatively, please refer to my value to you as a writer, I will be grateful. Of course, it is entirely up to you to decide how much money you will spend to redeem my freedom, but I am confident that you will sell off the publishing house and convince all the shareholders to come in as a minimum. Obviously, your expenses will be worth it. ”。

After receiving the ransom letter, we sent out all the expected profits from Mr. Santangiro's new book, including a handful of change and an expired sweet cake.

He has not been heard from since.