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墨書 Inktalez
The straight tomb passage was deep and lengthy. In my perception, there was nothing unusual about it. We had encountered situations where we felt disoriented, like the "Ghost Wall" phenomenon, but those instances had clear signs indicating we were going in circles. In this Bronze Tomb Passage, however, there were no such signs; the path continued downward.
Suddenly, a thought struck me—where was Professor Sun? After accurately capturing this thought, I didn’t voice it immediately. Instead, I began to look around. When I found nothing, I quietly asked Zhang Tong about Professor Sun's whereabouts.
Upon hearing my question, Zhang Tong looked puzzled and replied that he hadn’t noticed the professor’s movements because he had been focused on taking care of me.
Feeling a bit embarrassed at Zhang Tong's words, I glanced at his serious expression and sensed something beginning to shift within me.
The team continued to move forward. Fat Ma appeared somewhat weak at this point, his face pale as if he could barely hide the loss of color. The clay figure seemed to have sustained a minor injury as well, coughing intermittently. Occasionally, soft murmurs of conversation echoed through the tomb passage.
The fact that Professor Sun was missing weighed heavily on my mind, but I refrained from asking anyone else about it.
As we pressed onward through the passage, time slipped away for another moment. Gradually, fatigue and unease began to dominate the atmosphere. Some members of the group grew restless, muttering their dissatisfaction under their breath.
Time continued to drag on until finally, someone snapped. They complained that continuing down this path was a waste of time; this tomb passage felt like an infinite loop—a dead end!
Despite the commotion from some members, Fat Ma remained unfazed, casually lighting a cigarette. He took a couple of puffs and was about to continue when someone abruptly snuffed out his cigarette.
“It’s best not to smoke underground,” a voice chimed in that I had never heard before.
Fat Ma twitched his cheeks in irritation and was about to retaliate when Fish Head Elder interjected, “ Fat Ma, that’s the rule.” Upon hearing Fish Head Elder's voice, Fat Ma's demeanor softened instantly; he wore a cheerful smile on his face.
Time slipped away unnoticed.
The Clay Man wore a stern expression, but I had grown accustomed to it; it had always been this way.
Old Ghost was surveying the surroundings. It had been many years since Old Ghost had engaged in such activities. Over the years, he had traveled far and wide, dealing in all sorts of odds and ends, so a sense of excitement inevitably surged within him.
At that moment, an unexpected event occurred—someone was unwilling to continue.
I felt puzzled about the composition of this team; they seemed rather disunited.
Old Wang seemed to sense my confusion. "These are several factions; some people have ulterior motives," he said slowly.
I thought I understood a bit, yet I felt completely lost at the same time.
"They want to redefine the spoils from this venture," the Clay Man suddenly stated, which took me by surprise! I looked at him, but his expression remained largely unchanged.
Old Wang nodded in agreement.
The situation seemed to escalate further.
This group couldn't afford to lose anyone; this operation was of great significance. The absence of even one person would be a considerable loss, and it was best if everyone remained intact. We had no idea what other challenges lay ahead.
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