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墨書 Inktalez
The altar was a vast circular space, with a glass dome overhead that split the moonlight into countless silver beams. Ten bronze masks hung neatly on the surrounding walls, each connected to silver conduits leading to a central bronze altar.
As we were pushed into the altar, the elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses stood before the altar, inspecting some instruments. He still wore his Zhongshan suit, which appeared particularly eerie under the moonlight.
"How are the preparations?" he asked in Japanese.
"Everything is in place," Zhang Shouren replied respectfully. "All blood types match."
The old man nodded in satisfaction and approached Zhou Jing. "You resemble your sister; so stubborn," he said, stroking her face. "It's a pity you are too weak to withstand the experiment."
"You devils!" Zhou Jing struggled against her restraints.
"Devils?" The old man laughed. "We are pursuing eternity. Your blood hides the gifts of the gods; you just don't know it."
He turned to Zhang Shouren. "Begin. The moon is about to reach its optimal position."
Several masked individuals stepped forward and began adjusting the instruments. I noticed intricate patterns carved into the altar, forming a massive focusing device. Moonlight streamed through the glass dome, illuminating these patterns perfectly.
Suddenly, I recalled something: wait, those patterns...
"Finally figured it out?" The old man approached me. "This is an ancient alchemical array discovered by the Japanese while excavating tombs in Manchuria."
"So this is your goal?" I asked. "To replicate ancient alchemy?"
"No," he shook his head. "We are perfecting it. These bronze masks are key; they can purify the energy in your blood and inject it into the wearer."
At that moment, Zhang Shouren walked over, holding a special mask. "Professor Yamamoto, it's time."
The old man now knew that Yamamoto was putting on that mask. Others also donned their masks and stood around the altar.
"Start drawing blood," Yamamoto commanded.
The silver conduits began to writhe like metallic snakes. I felt a sharp pain in my arm as something pierced my skin.
"Don't worry," Yamamoto's voice sounded hollow behind the mask. "Your blood will grant us eternity. It is a great honor."
The moonlight grew brighter, and the patterns on the altar began to glow. I saw dark red liquid flowing through the conduits, converging into a central reservoir.
At that moment, I heard Zhou Jing softly murmuring something. Listening closely, I realized it was a string of numbers:
"Nineteen sixty-three..."
Suddenly, something clicked in my mind. I remembered my father saying that the masks were numbered in order. The structural diagram I had seen earlier in the archive marked each mask's position...
"We're almost done," Yamamoto said. "Can you feel it? This power—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by a rapid succession of footsteps approaching.
The police? Zhang Shouren's face changed dramatically. How could they have found this place?
"Don't panic," Yamamoto said. "They can't open the altar door. Just a few more minutes."
Another loud bang echoed, this time even closer.
"Continue the ritual!" Yamamoto commanded. "No matter what happens, we cannot stop!"
I saw a faint smile at the corner of Zhou Jing's mouth. Following her gaze, I noticed the pressure gauge on the liquid storage tank was wildly fluctuating.
"Something's wrong!" someone shouted. "The pressure is too high!"
"What does it matter? Just keep going!" Zhang Shouren said sternly.
A third loud bang resounded. The altar door was blown open, and the SWAT team surged in.
"Don't move!"
It was already too late. Moonlight illuminated the altar, casting a blinding beam of light. All the masked figures froze in place, emitting painful groans.
"What happened?" Zhang Shouren's voice was filled with fear.
I saw the blood in the conduits flowing backward rapidly, and those bronze masks began to emit an eerie red glow.
So that's it, I suddenly understood Zhou Jing's plan; you deliberately misreported the order of the masks!
"No!" Yamamoto's terrified shout interrupted my thoughts. "This can't be happening!"
Before he could finish his sentence, all ten bronze masks let out a piercing wail.
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