Chapter 112: The Truth (1)

I was examining the ID of the corpse when Old Itch suddenly asked me something, startling me. I mumbled a vague reply and continued looking at the thing in my hand.

Judging from his brief diary, this man came here three years ago, and Old Itch's group also first entered this place three years ago. Could this man be one of Old Itch's party? I thought it over and felt it was wrong. Although his diary partially matched what Old Itch said, most of it was different. They should be from two separate groups.

But for some reason, I kept feeling that the name "Xie Ziyang" was very familiar. The surname Xie is relatively uncommon, so there shouldn't be many people with the same name. Where had I heard it? I tried hard to remember, but so many strange things had happened lately that my mind wasn't working well. The more I thought, the less clear it became.

I continued going through his belongings but didn't find anything else. I put his diary away so I could look at it more carefully later.

Old Itch saw me squatting there without speaking and thought something was wrong. He called out to me again. I turned around and saw half his face squeezing into the crack, his eyes staring directly at my hand. But there was a blind spot between the rock and my position—he couldn't see me, but I could see him. He looked strange, as if he couldn't wait to crawl in.

I cursed inwardly, thinking to myself, "You bastard, you refused to come in earlier, and now you regret it, huh?" I said to him, "Stop making noise. I found something interesting, I'm looking at it."

Old Itch frowned and quickly asked, "What did you find?"

I told him the whole story about discovering the corpse, then sighed and said to him, "This guy might be our fate. If we can't find our way out, we'll probably die faster than him. But I feel like this man's name sounds familiar. Do you remember if we had any classmate with this name when we were kids?"

As I spoke, I backed up to the huge rock, intending to pass the ID through the crack for him to see. But when I looked up, I suddenly saw that Old Itch's face had lost all color; it was deathly pale, and he was staring straight at my face.

A strange feeling suddenly rose in my heart. What happened? Why did his expression change so suddenly? Could it be that we really did have a classmate named Xie Ziyang when we were kids? I closed my eyes and thought again, but really couldn't recall. Relationships are thin these days; I can't even recognize some college classmates, let alone remember people from childhood. Seeing Old Itch silent, I lowered my head to look at the ID number again and said, "I really can't remember, but this man is about the same age as us—!"

Just as I said that, a lightning bolt flashed through my brain, and suddenly I froze completely.

Xie Ziyang, Xie Ziyang

I couldn't help but retreat deeper into the cave, not daring to get any closer to that stone. Old Yang, however, remained motionless, staring straight at me without a word, like a stone-carved statue.

With his temperament, seeing me like this would have definitely made him scold me like a grandson. But now, like this—could it really be that he didn't know how to react because his identity had been exposed?

At this moment, I grew more and more suspicious. The person outside might look and act like Old Yang, but perhaps he wasn't Old Yang at all. From the time I left Hangzhou to come here, the whole process flashed through my mind like a movie: all those lies, his evasive speech, what he said to me at the top of the bronze tree—it was all vivid in my eyes. The doubts that had gradually accumulated were now becoming clear.

I had always thought that Old Yang couldn't be so deep. First, given our relationship, he had no reason to lie to me. Second, his lies were always so convincing that if I weren't overly cautious, I would never have noticed. But in every other aspect, this person was too much like Old Yang—I couldn't find a single flaw. Even though I was filled with suspicion, I still just thought his personality had changed; it never occurred to me that he wasn't Old Yang at all.

At that moment, "Old Yang" finally spoke. His face retreated back and he said to me, "Old Wu, I told you not to go in, but you wouldn't listen. You can only blame your own stubbornness. Haven't you heard people say that knowing some things isn't necessarily a good thing?"

My heart skipped a beat. I knew something was wrong. I tried to keep my voice from trembling as I said, "You're not Old Yang… Who the hell are you?"

"Old Yang" let out a strange laugh: "Who am I? I am Old Yang—Xie Ziyang. Grew up with you, served three years in prison—Xie Ziyang. If you don't believe me, go check my criminal record."

I sneered, "Bullshit. Old Yang's corpse is right beside me. He's been dead for three years. He never went to prison. Who the hell are you?"

Half of "Old Yang's" face silently reappeared in the crack between the rocks. He smiled grimly. "Right, he's been dead for three years. But I'm alive. What's the difference?"

Looking at his expression, I suddenly sensed something. I frowned, then my jaw dropped. I stammered, "Holy shit, you're not human! You… you're the thing he materialized—"

"Old Yang" snorted coldly and said, "Why don't you say he's the one I materialized? Who knows? He and I are exactly the same. Who can tell which came first?" I almost lost control. I picked up a rock and threw it at him. His face dodged back, and he added, "Old Wu, he and I are identical. You don't need to worry about it."

I yelled, "There's a difference, of course! Who knows what kind of thing is materialized with that power!"

"Old Yang" fell silent. His face turned ugly. He stared at me for a moment, then said viciously, "Bullshit! I am Old Yang! You and him are cut from the same cloth—don't blame me for what happens next."

My heart sank. Suddenly, a gun barrel extended through the crack. I quickly rolled into a dead angle. "Old Yang" fired at the rock, blasting off a big chunk. Then the gun immediately aimed at my dead angle and fired again. The bullet flew past almost grazing my neck.

The crevice was too tight. Even with a dead angle, I couldn't protect my whole body. Seeing the situation was bad, I quickly turned off my flashlight so he couldn't see me. He fired a few panicked shots, all missing me. I rolled to the rock and grabbed a stone to smash the gun barrel sticking in. A few hits bent it ninety degrees.

"Old Yang" couldn't pull it out. He cursed angrily. I sneered, "Identical? I don't think Old Yang would ever shoot at me. You're nothing but a cheap imitation!"

Ever since "Old Yang" mentioned materializing living people, I'd had a knot in my heart. I always felt there must be a reason this ancient bronze tree existed here. Could a creature born from such a terrifying power be a normal person? Was it really the same as us? Or was it some kind of monster?

Now it seemed that although I didn't know if this "person" was like us, he clearly knew he was materialized. For some reason, I felt things were getting really bad.

"Old Yang" and I exchanged curses for a while. Then he seemed to think of something and fell silent. He turned off his flashlight, plunging the entire space into darkness. An endless black pressed in, feeling especially heavy in this cramped, lightless space.

Wary of some trick, I shrank into my dead angle and hid. Then I heard him say, "Old Wu, I remember you were most afraid of the dark as a kid. Are you afraid now? But don't let your mind wander, okay? Remember what I said earlier—in this place, if you let your thoughts run wild, be careful when you turn on the light, you might see a dead man's face right in front of you."

I cursed inwardly. This guy was trying to make me materialize a monster out of my own fear of the dark.

I told myself I absolutely couldn't let him succeed, but instead I grew more afraid. The image he just described—turning on the flashlight and seeing a dead man's face—immediately put my nerves on edge. I suddenly felt like something was only a few centimeters in front of me. The warm air I exhaled hit that thing and bounced back into my face, carrying a stench.

It can't be that fast, I thought. From Old Yang's earlier behavior, the materialization ability was extremely hard to control. Otherwise, we wouldn't have been slammed around so badly by that giant-eyed black snake. There's no way it could be so easy to create a monster.

Illusion, I told myself. Don't fall for his trick. In such an enclosed dark space, fear is inevitable.

I took a deep breath. Suddenly, my face felt wet—as if something ice-cold had brushed past.

In an instant, cold sweat broke out all over me. I almost pissed my pants. Cautiously, I touched my chest. My heart was pounding wildly. My whole body felt weak. Damn it, there was no mistake now—there really was something extra in the darkness.

I didn't dare turn on the flashlight. I slowly backed up, trying to press against the rock wall. But as soon as my back touched something, I realized it wasn't stone—it felt like… scales. I could even feel the muscles writhing under the scales.

God, what was I thinking? How could there be scales behind me? I quickly closed my eyes, gripped my flashlight tightly, and raised it in front of me. Just as I was about to turn it on, I suddenly heard "Old Yang" give a fake scream: "Old Wu! Why don't you turn on your light? Let me give you some light!"

Then his flashlight came on, and I suddenly saw, right against the tip of my nose, a massive python head rise up. Its body, thick as a water bucket, coiled around the cave, and the rocks above my head and behind me had all turned into walls of scales, black as gemstones. Disturbed by Old Yang's flashlight, the scales around me twitched, the body rubbed slowly, emitting a terrifying hiss.