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墨書 Inktalez
I was hanging upside down, drenched in cold sweat.
The flashlight illuminated the area below, but at that moment, my head felt as if it were coated in paste; I could only see a cluster of light beneath me, while everything else remained unclear.
In particularly tense situations, the retina can be affected.
I shook my head again, and to my surprise, this action caused the Withered Vines-like tendrils to tighten their grip on me. My chest felt constricted, and I nearly struggled to breathe.
I reminded Fat Ma not to move around recklessly.
Fat Ma, positioned beneath me, muttered, "Old Sun, do you think we're going to sacrifice ourselves for the Revolution this time?"
Seeing Fat Ma's negative attitude, I scolded him, "Stop talking nonsense; we won't die."
Fat Ma swayed slightly and then groaned in pain, saying, "I can't take it anymore; it's killing Fat Master."
I shouted, "Didn't I tell you not to move?"
Fat Ma chuckled weakly and replied, "My armpit was itchy earlier; I just scratched it."
I couldn't help but smile.
As time passed for another five or six minutes, I felt my head growing heavier. At this rate, whether from falling, being eaten, or suffering from a cerebral hemorrhage, I was bound to meet my end.
However, at that moment, my mental strength was forced to concentrate intensely as I pondered how to seek a way out.
I weakly called out, "Fat Ma."
There was no response.
I raised my voice and shouted again, but Fat Ma still did not answer.
A sense of alarm surged within me as I struggled to shift my gaze toward Fat Ma. I saw him hanging above me, completely motionless. My heart sank; surely something had happened to Fat Ma!
" Fat Ma... Fat Ma..."
"Ah, who called for Fat Master?"
Hearing a response brought relief to my heart. I asked, "Fat Ma, what are you doing?"
"I accidentally dozed off just now," Fat Ma replied.
I warned Fat Ma not to let his guard down; if he fell asleep, he might end up meeting Yama at any moment.
Fat Ma was jolted awake by my words, his eyes wide open as he stared at me.
"Old Sun, Fat Ma," we both heard someone calling our names. Fat Ma perked up and responded, "Dead Mud Man, hurry and get us out of here!" The mud figure seemed relieved upon hearing Fat Ma's enthusiastic voice.
The Clay Man immediately asked, "Old Sun, how are you doing?"
I took a deep breath and replied, "For now, we’re not dead yet."
In this situation, they had no way to save us, and to make matters worse, our hands were tied.
Originally, they might have been able to throw a rope up to me, but now that hope was gone; there was nothing they could do.
Fat Ma anxiously asked, "Clay Man, do you have any ideas?"
The Clay Man responded, "I'm thinking!"
Fat Ma nearly cursed; being suspended in mid-air was truly uncomfortable.
At that moment, the Withered Vines-like tendrils shrank back a bit, causing Fat Ma to scream in fright as the flashlight's beam intensified.
Hearing Fat Ma's scream, the Clay Man hurriedly asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" I replied.
The Clay Man didn’t dare approach the bottom of the black hole directly; doing so could lead him to share our fate. He had to be cautious since he was responsible for two lives.
My whole body ached; those damned Withered Vines had tied me up so tightly.
"Fat Ma" suddenly shouted, "Old Sun, I'm running out of air!"
I knew what he meant. "Don't panic," I reassured "Fat Ma."
Knowing oneself and knowing the enemy ensures victory in a hundred battles. I asked "Fat Ma," "Can you see what that thing is below us?"
"Just a face," "Fat Ma" replied.
A chill ran down my spine. I had held onto a glimmer of hope, but now that hope was extinguished.
Seeing that I had fallen silent, "Fat Ma" teased me, "Old Sun, are you scared to death?"
I took a deep breath; it would be a lie to say I wasn't afraid of dying. I replied, "Who wants to die if they can live?"
"Fat Ma" grunted in agreement and praised me, "Old Sun, you make a good point."
As soon as he finished speaking, we fell another short distance.
"Fat Ma" was furious and yelled downwards, "You bastard, do you dare to give me a quick end? Stop dragging your feet like a coward!"
After "Fat Ma" said this, we heard a response and fell another short distance.
I was drenched in cold sweat from fear, and "Fat Ma" was so frightened that he fell silent. Finally, he whispered to me, "That bastard... he can't possibly understand what I'm saying, can he?"
I collected my thoughts and said to Fat Ma, "Let's see if you dare to shout again."
Fat Ma had always learned from experience; every time he made a mistake, he would gain a bit of wisdom, and after each blunder, he would be more cautious. This time, he promptly shut his mouth.
At that moment, the only sound that could be heard was our breathing.
Looking out into the black hole, all I could see was a mass of darkness, with a faint glimmer of light beside it—probably the beam from Black Glasses' flashlight.
Fat Ma couldn't hold back any longer and shouted outside, "Have you thought of a way out yet?"
But there was no response from outside.
Frustrated, Fat Ma called out several times without getting an answer. I told him not to waste his breath; it was likely that our voices were being blocked.
Fat Ma asked in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"There might be some kind of special medium here that is obstructing our voices." I reached this conclusion because I believed that the clay figure would never abandon us and leave.
At that moment, I could slightly make out the scene beneath the black hole; it really did resemble a round face, looking ominous and deep.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light before my eyes. The clay figure appeared, holding a torch and standing on the beam outside the black hole. A fiery red glow blazed fiercely against the ghostly night.
I vaguely saw the clay figure shouting something at us, but I couldn't make out the words.
Instinctively, I shook my head, hoping the clay figure would understand my meaning.
As I shook my head, I suddenly felt just how exhausted I was. After seeing the flames, Fat Ma was also not as spirited as before and could no longer make a sound.
Suddenly, we dropped down a bit further. The sensation of falling in reverse gravity was hardest on my head.
My stomach began to churn, and I couldn't help but vomit.
"Comrade Sun, hang in there!" Fat Ma encouraged me. "The organization can't lose you!"
I heaved again, expelling bitter bile, but inadvertently tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood.
I regained some composure and said to Fat Ma, "I'm not going to die so easily."
Fat Ma smiled and said, "That's the spirit! Hilly Big Sister is still waiting for you to save her!"
A bitter feeling welled up inside me; how could someone who could barely save themselves have any right to save others? Ultimately, it was still a matter of my own weakness.
I sighed.
The torch held by the clay figure continued to burn brightly.
Suddenly, the tentacles resembling Withered Vines contracted without warning, and this time they did not stop. The bizarre face that the clay figure had mentioned was now exposed to my sight.
The round face, about two meters in diameter, was indeed writhing. At that moment, my heart sank, and every hair on my body stood on end. In the final moments of death, both Fat Ma and I became acutely aware of our situation.
The writhing round face opened its gaping maw, and my flashlight fell into it. I could see that Fat Ma and I were about to plummet downwards.
Fat Ma shouted, "Fat Master, I’m not done living yet!"
My face turned pale, but I managed to remain somewhat calm.
Just then, I felt a sudden prickling sensation on my scalp as a spark brushed past me, wrapping around Fat Ma's thigh and landing directly on that round face.
In an instant, the tentacles resembling Withered Vines that bound Fat Ma and me loosened, and we began to fall straight down.
As we descended to a certain point, I heard someone shout, "Grab the rope!"
This was the last lifeline; I had no reason not to give it my all to grab it. However, I overestimated myself. In my current state, not only was I unable to actively reach for the rope, but even if I did manage to grab it, I wouldn't be able to hold on.
What surprised me was that the rope seemed to have developed tentacles of its own and ensnared me.
The time spent falling from the black hole was merely a few seconds.
Before I could react, I found myself hanging from a beam, my body swaying slightly.
The clay figure hurriedly untied himself, and so did Fat Ma, the only difference being that the beam he pressed creaked ominously.
The flames at the mouth of the black hole grew fiercer, with dust drifting down from above.
Fat Ma and I lay on the ground, our vision blurred, unable to see or hear anything clearly.
The surprise or sheer luck of escaping death could not be settled in an instant.
I gasped for air, breathing heavily, overwhelmed by a sense of happiness. When you realize that simply being alive is a tremendous blessing, you can understand my feelings at this moment.
Fat Ma shouted, "Quick, give me some water."
The clay figure responded and handed water to Fat Ma, who drank deeply.
The clay figure asked me, "Old Sun, do you want some?"
I weakly waved my hand at the clay figure; all I wanted was to lie quietly and not move.
Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out...
"Are you okay?"
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