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墨書 Inktalez
Zhong Kui's Diary
Seeing this, we all stopped. Fatty smiled and asked me, "Ghost Brother, do you want to use the Rocket Launcher?"
I laughed and replied, "Rocket Launcher? No way, a Shotgun is enough! Are they robots or something?"
This time we came out fully armed with various weapons. Even though I clearly didn't need a Rocket Launcher, Lingfeng still forced two of them into my hands. As for Grenades and Shotguns, there were countless.
Although the three giants approached us with murderous intent, I wasn't nervous at all. So what if they were giants? My Shotgun could blow a big hole in a brick wall; surely their flesh couldn't be tougher than bricks?
"Do you recognize the weapon in my hand?" I shouted loudly while raising my Shotgun.
The giants let out growls and completely ignored my shout, surrounding us with their knives—one giant in front, one on the left, and one behind us.
Fatty stood back to back with me, pulled the pump of his Shotgun, making a clicking sound, then uncertainly asked me, "Ghost Brother, are you sure they can understand your Mandarin?"
"What other options do you have?" I replied irritably.
Fatty chuckled lightly and shouted loudly, "Lusi wa, yo ma re yi ke baicai, adasi simida, taibakuo de nalai!"
Before I could laugh, the three giants showed fierce expressions and charged at us with their Machetes, each weighing about two hundred pounds, whistling through the air.
Damn it, did they really think I wouldn't dare to shoot? With two gunshots, Fatty and I pulled the triggers simultaneously. Suddenly, blood and flesh flew everywhere; a bowl-sized hole appeared in the chest of the giant in front of me.
What was astonishing was that even though a hole had been blasted in its chest, the giant seemed unaffected. It continued to swing its Machete towards our heads. I could hear Fatty cursing behind me; it seemed that his giant was also unfazed by the Shotgun's attack.
With no other choice, we both dashed to the right. There were towering giants in front of us, to the left and behind us; their two-hundred-pound Machetes swung with ferocity. The only escape route was to the right.
The giants reacted quickly; the one in front of me and the one on my left both took a step forward simultaneously, forming a '凹' shape that trapped us inside.
Reluctantly, we continued moving to the right. With every step we took, the giants followed us as if trying to drive us somewhere. I felt something was off—why were there only three giants instead of four? Were they deliberately leaving one side open to drive us into some trap?
Looking around, I realized we had reached the right edge of that round green grassland. The grass where we stood was unusually vibrant green. Just as I was about to warn Fatty to be cautious, suddenly my feet gave way beneath me, and we both plummeted downwards.
Damn it! It's a trap!
In an instant, I fell nearly two meters.
In a moment of desperation, I pushed off the side wall with the tip of my left foot, immediately halting my downward momentum. With my right foot, I pushed off again, and my body shot upward like a rocket.
Just as I popped my head out, the three thick-backed Greatswords above came crashing down. Even if they were just three iron rods, being struck on the head by over two hundred pounds of iron would surely be fatal.
Cursing under my breath, I thrust my shotgun forcefully into the side wall of the trap. Perhaps due to the urgency of the situation, I managed to embed the shotgun over a foot deep. Using this leverage, I abruptly stopped my ascent and then pushed down again, causing me to drop rapidly. Despite this, the wind from the Greatswords still stung my face painfully.
Below, I heard thudding footsteps; it was Fatty kicking hard against the side wall of the trap to slow his descent. However, with a loud bang, Fatty hit the ground. It seemed his weight was too much for him to significantly reduce his falling speed.
Meanwhile, I was constantly shifting my position in mid-air. A push to the left sent me tumbling to the right, and another kick from the right propelled me back to the left. After repeating this maneuver four or five times against the side wall, I finally landed at the bottom of the trap. There I saw Fatty sitting on the ground, hunched over and vigorously rubbing his backside while cursing.
"Are you okay?" I asked. Inwardly, I felt lucky that there were no sharp objects below; otherwise, we would have been skewered like kebabs.
"I'll survive," Fatty replied through gritted teeth.
Looking around, this trap resembled a dry well, about ten meters deep with a diameter of around three meters at the top and over five meters at the bottom. This structure—narrow at the top and wide at the bottom—would make it difficult for an ordinary person to climb out, but it wasn't too challenging for us.
Although I could use my iron claws to secure a climbing rope and throw it out to hook onto something nearby to climb out, that would only work without interference. Now there were three giants above guarding the entrance with shotguns; as soon as we showed our heads, they would swing their machetes down. Trying to escape in such a situation would be akin to a fool's dream.
"Don't we have a rocket launcher? Just fire one up there!" Fatty suggested.
"The rocket launcher can't turn; it'll just go straight up," I shook my head.
"Throw a grenade! Damn it, if shotguns can't kill them, surely grenades can!" Fatty insisted again.
I took out a grenade and weighed it in my hand before sighing and putting it back. Fatty looked puzzled.
"They're guarding the entrance now; anything that shows itself will get chopped down by their blades. If a grenade explodes above, that's fine, but what if they drop it down before it detonates? Where will we hide then?" I said gloomily. "Moreover, even if it explodes at the entrance, there's a high chance it will collapse it. Then we'd be buried alive."
"Uh, good point," Fatty shivered slightly.
After discussing for a while, neither of us came up with any particularly effective solutions; after all, those Greatswords in the hands of the giants above were not to be taken lightly.
A rustling sound came from above, followed by a thin stream of water descending, turning into fine droplets in mid-air and splashing down on me and Fatty unexpectedly. A faint smell of urine wafted through the air, and I cursed loudly, "Damn it, someone is pissing from above."
The urine continued to fall for a while before it finally stopped. Then, the bald shopkeeper's voice came from above: "Go ahead, curse all you want! Heh heh, after a few days of not eating or drinking, you'll be begging me to let you drink my piss!"
"Who the hell are you?" I shouted angrily.
"I'm just a grocery store owner," the bald shopkeeper chuckled. "Here's a price list. I'll come back later to see what you want to buy. Don't worry, my shop offers good quality at fair prices, ha ha ha..."
As a piece of paper was tossed down from above, the laughter gradually faded away. I could faintly hear the sound of iron rings on the backs of the three giants still guarding above.
The paper fluttered down and I picked it up to find it was a price list. It stated that instant noodles cost five hundred coins per bucket and bottled water three hundred coins each, among other things. I tossed the paper aside; the food in our Spatial Bag was enough for us until next year. There was no way they could scam us with this.
I lit a cigarette, and the two of us continued discussing ways to escape.
"How about I attract their attention? As soon as they show themselves, you can fire a Rocket Launcher at them," Fatty suggested while exhaling smoke.
"I suspect these three giants are controlled puppets; their only instruction is to guard the entrance. No matter what tricks we pull, they won't look down. But we can give it a try," I pondered.
After tossing away the cigarette butt, I took out the Rocket Launcher and rested it on my shoulder, aiming at the entrance as if preparing to shoot down an American aircraft like an Afghan militia.
Once Fatty saw that I was ready, he suddenly shouted loudly: "Tami Mido come mi, sigalaxie la de, guaji guaji suojiao adi..."
After shouting for quite some time, there was no response from the entrance. It seemed that Fatty's tactic had failed.
Dejectedly putting away the Rocket Launcher, I cursed fiercely: "Damn it! Let's just take a gamble. Fatty, throw a Grenade up there; if it goes off, so be it. If it falls back down on us, we can only blame our bad luck."
Fatty spat out his cigarette butt and pulled out a Grenade with a grin: "I've been wanting to do this for a while! If we die, we die; if not, we become legends!"
I quickly grabbed Fatty's arm and said with a wry smile: "Damn it! I'm just kidding; can you not go along with everything?"
"Haha! I knew you wouldn't let me throw it! I'm just joking!" Fatty laughed.
"Uh, how about we don't pull the pin yet and test their reaction first?"
"Alright." Fatty shook his arms and twisted his waist, warming up. "It would be great if the Grenade exploded due to the violent impact when they hit it."
"That's impossible." I dismissed Fatty's fantasy. "This type of Grenade won't detonate even if you throw it into a fire or get shot."
Fatty laughed heartily, pulled a Grenade out of his Spatial Bag, swung his arm, and hurled the Grenade towards the cave entrance.
I had to admit, Fatty's strength and accuracy were impressive; the Grenade flew directly towards the entrance without any deviation.
Just as the Grenade reached the cave entrance, three flashes of blades appeared, and one of the Machetes struck the Grenade with a clang, causing it to drop to the ground.
As expected, these three giants were tasked with guarding the entrance, not allowing anything to escape. Damn, how could their reactions be so fast? If they were truly Puppets, then the person who made them was incredibly skilled.
Note: Recently, some readers asked me if I exaggerated the power of Shotguns. I remember mentioning this in Chapter 17 'Great Battle with Doll' in 'Author's Note.' Some may not have read the official version or logged into their accounts, so they couldn't see 'Author's Note' (so please read the official version). I'll reiterate here: in reality, a true Shotgun hitting someone at close range does not create a hole like a sieve; that scenario is unlikely. I wrote it that way for dramatic effect. If any readers find it unrealistic, just laugh it off.
In future scenes, I will depict various situations where Shotgun bullets create big holes; these are just artistic embellishments. It's like in TV shows where characters get shot but act as if nothing happened—this is impossible in real life. If someone is hit by a bullet, especially from a .54 pistol or Desert Eagle, there might be only a small hole in the front but a large one in the back. Who could possibly act as if nothing happened in such a case? Surviving would be a miracle... cough cough, let's not delve into these details anymore; just take it lightly and laugh it off.
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