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墨書 Inktalez
Zhong Kui's Diary
The mine was dark, clearly indicating that there was no one inside.
"Hey, why is there no one in this mine? The fight last night involved the gang from Lion's Hall, not some laborers," Fatty said, peering into the cave with a look of surprise.
"Maybe it's because the mine has been connected to the one across the way, and continuing to dig has become pointless. Lion's Hall probably sent all the workers home," I speculated.
I took out two flashlights from my Spatial Bag and handed one to Fatty. "Let's not worry about that for now. Follow the Power Cord to find the control switch. Since there's a Power Cord, there must be lights."
Fatty turned on his flashlight. This type of flashlight was a cutting-edge product designed for nighttime cyclists. It could focus, had a strong light source, was energy-efficient, and could last seven or eight hours on a full charge, with a range of over two hundred meters.
Soon, Fatty found a switch. It was quite simple: two wooden stakes held up a wooden board with a knife switch attached. When he flipped the switch down, lights immediately illuminated the cave. Every ten meters there was a bulb extending deep into the mine.
The two of us walked further inside. The mine varied in size; some areas were spacious enough for basketball while others required us to bend down to walk through. Fortunately, there were no sections that required crawling; otherwise, I would have turned back immediately. To be honest, I had a psychological aversion to crawling through tunnels. I once got stuck in a cement pipe while climbing with friends, and that feeling of being trapped is something I'll never forget. Additionally, I've never developed the habit of rolling myself up in a blanket like a Cylinder to sleep; it makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Getting off track a bit, Fatty and I continued along the mine. Whenever we encountered a fork in the path, I would use my pickaxe to mark an imprint on the wall. This pickaxe was lightweight and sharp, making it very handy. Fatty was even more meticulous; he had brought paper and a pen and occasionally sketched our route on it. When I glanced over, I saw that his drawings looked like abstract tree branches.
After walking for about an hour, I stopped. "There's nothing unusual in this mine."
Fatty looked around curiously. "According to Zhao Ting, gang fights start when mines are connected. We should look for clues at the junction where they were dug through."
"Do you know where they connected?" I asked Fatty with a smile.
"I have no idea!" Fatty replied candidly.
I also scanned the area and pointed at the digging marks on the wall. "In private mines like this one, explosives are usually used to blast open sections, then tools like shovels and pickaxes are used to remove the rubble. Whether it's a pickaxe or shovel, there's always a direction when digging. We're located on the east side of Yang Mountain, and Lion's Hall would have been digging from east to west. The marks from the Flying Swallow Gang across from us show they were digging from west to east. If we can find both types of digging marks on the cave wall, we'll know if this is where they connected."
Fatty glanced at me with disdain: “Ghost Brother, there's no need to complicate things. Just look at the Power Cord both sides are pulling. The Power Cord pulled in here can't possibly be the same as the Flying Swallow Gang's Power Cord. Follow the Power Cord to its end, and that's where it connects with the Flying Swallow Gang. Am I wrong? Besides being better at fighting than me, are you good at anything else?”
I scoffed, thinking, damn it, Fatty is getting smarter. If this continues, how will I establish my authority? No way, I need to put him in his place. So I coldly replied, “I can cross my legs; can you?”
Immediately, Fatty deflated like a punctured balloon and looked at me with a mournful expression: “Ghost Brother, this is really boring. Back in the day…”
While we were bantering, we continued forward until we finally reached the end of a fork in the path.
Along the way, there weren't many forks; after all, I only used the pickaxe three times, meaning we had only taken three paths. Now that we had finished this fork, ahead was a very smooth stone wall.
On the stone wall, someone had carved various crooked words with a sharp object:
“Jiang Zhengjun was here.”
“Down with Zhou Yaodong, bastard!”
“Li Feng and Liu Yan grow old together.” (The character for Li was unclear, and there was a typo in 'together'.)
…
It seemed that the miners had reached a point where they could not continue digging, and since this large stone was so smooth, they all left messages here. It's strange how this behavior is hidden in everyone's subconscious; even I felt compelled to carve something as a memento, while Fatty had already taken my pickaxe to start carving.
“Ding Shaocheng urinated here as a memento.”
After finishing his carving, Fatty handed me the pickaxe and tilted his head to look at it, seemingly satisfied. He then unbuckled his belt and prepared to urinate on the stone wall.
I turned and walked a few steps away, putting the pickaxe into the Spatial Bag. I casually pulled out a bottle of beer and was about to crack open the cap when I suddenly remembered that the smell of Fatty was quite overwhelming. I couldn't help but put down the beer bottle and jokingly scolded, "With a body like Zhu Bajie, how can you go learn from Sun Wukong? Did you come here to urinate in Tathagata's palm?"
Behind me came the sound of rushing water and Fatty exaggeratedly singing, "If you want to pee, just pee, shine bright! Even if no one claps for me, at least... ah..."
Suddenly, there was a startled shout from Fatty, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. I quickly turned around and was stunned by the scene before me.
Fatty was lying on the ground struggling desperately, his ankles caught by two golden hands that were pulling him towards the stone wall. The smooth stone wall rippled like water at that moment, and those two golden arms were bizarrely extending out from it. Strictly speaking, these weren't arms but skeletal structures made entirely of gold, shimmering brilliantly under the light.
The strength of the Golden Skeleton's arms was immense, quickly dragging Fatty toward the wall. At that moment, I didn't have time to think about how these arms could emerge from the wall. I shouted loudly and hurled the beer bottle at the golden arm before leaping forward.
With a loud crash, the beer bottle shattered against the golden arm, glass shards and beer splattering everywhere.
I grabbed Fatty's right hand with both hands and pulled back with all my might. With my pull combined with the force from the other side, Fatty was suddenly lifted off the ground. It was like a tug-of-war; on one side was the Golden Skeleton pulling him in, while I was on the other side trying to pull him out. Fatty was like the rope in this tug-of-war, and his exposed pecker became a marker for determining victory or defeat.
At that moment, Fatty's feet had already been dragged into the wall. Damn it, how could his foot enter a stone wall? This is a stone wall!
I couldn't think too much about it anymore or care about Fatty's feelings. I held onto his arm and shouted angrily, exerting sudden force. From a scientific perspective, this is called explosive power; it's an instantaneous burst of strength that far exceeds your usual capability. It's like those weightlifters; asking them to lift weights slowly is unrealistic—they need to exert themselves suddenly to unleash their maximum explosive power.
With a sudden burst of strength, I pulled Fatty back a bit more; his foot emerged from the wall again, and the golden hand bone around his ankle also came into view.
It seemed that the Golden Skeleton had also increased its strength. Its force wasn't like my explosive power but rather a sustained force; as soon as my explosive effort paused even slightly, it would slowly pull Fatty back in.
According to Old Man Mao's theory, I had entered a stalemate with the Golden Skeleton. Every time I used explosive power, I could drag Fatty out a little bit; but once my explosive effort ended, the Golden Skeleton would slowly pull him back in. Moreover, what worried me was that while its strength showed no signs of weakening, my explosive power gradually diminished. Soon enough, the stone wall had submerged up to Fatty's thigh root, and I could see his pecker swaying against the wall.
"It's over! It's over!" Fatty finally couldn't hold back any longer and shouted, "Ghost Brother, let go! If you pull me any further, I'm done for!"
Due to my struggle with the Golden Skeleton, Fatty's bones were rattling, and I was afraid I might actually pull Fatty apart. Damn, this wasn't a sustainable approach.
"Fatty, hold onto my hand tightly!" I prepared to go all in.
I thought that if I suddenly relaxed my grip and let the Golden Skeleton pull Fatty in, anyone would instinctively have two reactions: the first would be to loosen their grip unconsciously, and the second would be to lean forward instinctively to counteract the force pulling them back. Regardless of which reaction occurred, as long as I exerted force again at that moment, I was eighty percent sure I could pull Fatty out.
Fatty understood my intention and gripped my wrist tightly.
I swear my plan was scientifically sound, but I forgot one thing: the opponent wasn't human. Therefore, it didn't exhibit either reaction. The moment I relaxed my grip, a tremendous force came from the Golden Skeleton, and with a whoosh, both Fatty and I were pulled into the stone wall.
Everything went dark; it felt like being trapped in a mass of jelly. I could sense sticky substances around me but couldn't exert any strength. This feeling was familiar, reminiscent of the Gate of the Dark Moon in the Land of Eternal Sleep.
We flew through the jelly-like substance as if propelled forward at high speed. I could even feel the direction of our movement—up and down, left and right. It was like riding a roller coaster for over a minute until suddenly everything opened up, and we fell straight down.
Ah—ah—
Fatty and I both called out simultaneously, but our cries quickly ceased. The next moment, we had plunged into water.
I gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, feeling an icy chill penetrate to my bones, followed by an inexplicable fear. I desperately swam upstream and broke through the surface, but everything around me was pitch black; I couldn't see anything.
After a while, another splash sound echoed nearby, as if someone had surfaced from the water.
"Fatty?" I called out tentatively.
There was no response; the splash sound moved closer to me.
"Fatty?" I raised my voice.
No one responded, but the sound of splashing was getting closer.
"Fatty!?" I called out again, my tone sharper.
Still no response, and the splashing sound was right beside me now, accompanied by a strange noise, a muffled sound as if someone had their mouth covered.
Out of nowhere, something landed on my shoulder. It moved slightly, and I realized it was a hand. My scalp tingled instantly, and the first thing that popped into my mind was the two Golden Skeleton arms grabbing Fatty's ankle.
"Damn it!"
Without thinking twice, I twisted my shoulder and threw a punch forward, not caring whether it was a person, a ghost, bones, or flesh; I just wanted to hit it.
With a thud, my fist struck something soft. I had no idea what it was, but it was clear that my punch had pushed it back.
The splashing sound was followed by a muffled grunt; this time I recognized it clearly—it was Fatty's voice.
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