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墨書 Inktalez
The footsteps grew closer and closer. We slipped into a nearby storage room, where a sliver of light seeped through the crack in the door. A group of figures passed by, and at the forefront was the man in black.
Wait. The man in black suddenly stopped.
We held our breath. Just then, a faint noise came from the other end of the storage room. A figure emerged from the shadows—it was A Hu!
Blood was streaming down his shoulder, and he clutched a rifle in his hand, looking as if he had just come from a fierce battle.
"Quick, follow me," he whispered urgently. "I know a safe route."
Father exchanged a glance with Doctor Zhao and nodded. A Hu pushed open a hidden door in the storage room, revealing a narrow passageway.
"This is an emergency evacuation route built by the Japanese," A Hu explained. "Few people know about it."
As we moved along the passage, we could see numerous bullet holes on the walls, evidence of fierce fighting that had taken place here.
"A Hu," I couldn't help but ask, "how do you know about this route?"
He paused for a moment before answering, "This route was told to me by my grandfather."
"Your grandfather?"
"He used to work here," A Hu said, his voice choked with emotion. "Years ago—"
Before he could finish, a loud crash echoed ahead of us. A chunk of concrete fell from the ceiling, nearly hitting us.
"This is bad; the bunker is becoming unstable," A Hu urged, quickening his pace. "We need to hurry."
Turning a corner, we came upon a small room filled with clutter. What caught my eye was an old photograph hanging on the wall. The picture had yellowed with age and depicted a group of workers at construction, with the bunker in the background.
"That's my grandfather," I pointed at the photo.
A Hu replied, "He's the youngest one in that picture."
In the photograph, a slender young worker was carrying materials. Beside him stood several Japanese soldiers, their demeanor arrogant. One soldier's face was blurred, but his condescending posture was strikingly similar to that of the man in black we had just seen.
"What happened next?" I asked.
A Hu's expression turned pained. "They said this was for building a sanatorium, but actually—"
Another loud crash interrupted him, this time even closer.
"Enough!" Father suddenly interrupted. "Some things are not meant to be discussed right now."
As we continued forward, the passage grew narrower. A strange odor wafted through the air, reminiscent of decaying medicine.
"Be careful," A Hu said, pointing to the ground. "This used to be the laboratory's drainage."
I looked down and noticed numerous brown stains on the floor. They were old, but it was still clear they were bloodstains.
"Uncle A Hu," Zhou Jing suddenly asked, "why are you helping them?"
A Hu paused for a moment. "I had no choice. They have leverage over me."
"What kind of leverage?"
My grandfather took a deep breath. "He didn't die in the war. He was—"
Before he could finish, a crack suddenly appeared in the wall ahead, producing a sound that made my teeth ache.
"Run!" A Hu urged us, pushing us forward. "The passage is collapsing!"
We sprinted desperately ahead. Behind us, the sound of the wall crashing down echoed, and dust filled the narrow space. At that moment, I saw A Hu pull out a cloth bag from his pocket and hand it to my father.
"Officer Ku," he said urgently, "there's a list inside. I've been keeping track of them all these years. Remember, you must investigate them."
A massive chunk of concrete came crashing down. A Hu shoved me aside but was struck by the debris.
"A Hu!" I shouted.
"Go!" His voice was weak. "Find Old Liu and tell him about the archives!"
"Uncle A Hu!" Zhou Jing tried to reach for him.
"Don't worry about me," he coughed up blood. "Remember, don't let them complete the ritual!"
The passage collapsed with a thunderous roar. We were forced to run forward, and soon I could no longer hear A Hu's voice. But his last words echoed in my mind:
"The archives..."
What had happened? Why did all the clues point to that year?
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