Chapter 147: Gate Hall (2)

"What are you doing? Get down!" I shouted frantically. In this situation, he actually climbed onto the crossbeam—I had no idea what was going on in his head.

Fatty ignored me. He was very agile, and in a few steps he was already on the beam. He turned back and said, "What's the panic? Your Fatty here isn't a three-year-old kid. If something's wrong, I'll naturally come down." Then he moved along the beam toward the nearest corpse.

I suddenly realized that Fatty was after that gun. The guy had been uneasy without a weapon the whole way, and now seeing such a good gun, he was excited. I was used to his lack of discipline, but now I was fuming and couldn't do anything about him.

Fatty carefully took a few more steps. He was very heavy, and the entire roof of the hall vibrated with his steps, making an unsettling sound, while large amounts of wood chips fell down. We reflexively stepped back, afraid that Fatty would collapse the whole structure above us.

Panzi brushed the debris off himself and cursed, "You son of a bitch, take it easy! We'll all be done for because of you."

Fatty made an apologetic gesture, strode over to the corpse, and the first thing he did was hook the gun from the corpse. He took it, immediately checked the chamber and bullets, then tossed it down to Panzi. He then took the corpse's ammunition pouch, strapped it on himself, and only then looked at the corpse.

I watched as Fatty slowly removed the corpse's gas mask. Under the mask was the face of a middle-aged foreigner, the whole face twisted, pale, mouth gaping unnaturally wide, as if screaming at the moment of death. Death must have been instantaneous, so the expression was frozen so intensely.

Seeing his pale face, I shouted, "Don't touch him! Look at his face—he probably died of poisoning."

Fatty nodded, put on gloves, and then looked at the "rope" hanging the corpse. These people certainly didn't hang themselves. So what was up with those ropes? We were all very curious.

But after Fatty took a look, his expression remained puzzled.

I asked, "What did you find?"

Fatty said, "These damn things look like hair..."

"Hair?" I asked in surprise.

Fatty nodded. "And pretty long too. Could all these be women?" He lifted the corpse a bit. "No... this hair is coming out of his neck. Not hair. Damn, could it be armpit hair? These foreigners are amazing—even their armpit hair is this long."

With that, he pulled out his dagger and tried to cut the "hair" hanging the dead man, to lower the corpse and show me. But after two cuts, the "hair" didn't break—it seemed very tough. So he took out his lighter, intending to burn it and see.

I said to myself I didn't want to see that kind of corpse, so I yelled at him, "Forget it, I'm not interested in corpses. Get down now, don't mess around. What if it's poisonous?"

Fatty thought about it and put away his lighter. "Wait a moment, almost there!" he replied, then ran toward another corpse, apparently not wanting to leave any guns behind.

Seeing that the corpse didn't seem dangerous, I didn't stop him. As usual, he went to the corpse, hooked the gun, tossed it to me, and then tried to take the corpse's ammunition pouch. Just then, I suddenly saw the hand of this corpse move.

My mind tensed—I realized something was wrong. Fatty was about to remove the gas mask. I quickly yelled, "Wait! This one seems still alive! Don't remove his mask!"

Fatty went "Ah?" "Really?" He pressed the corpse's pulse, his expression changed, and he quickly took out his lighter to burn through the "hair" above. The corpse immediately fell from the beam. Monk Hua and I caught it and laid it on the ground. Monk Hua put on gloves and turned over its neck. The "hair" that had hung the corpse did seem to grow out of the back. He then checked the eyelids and shook his head. "He's not dead, but almost. His pupils are almost fully dilated."

The man seemed Chinese. I habitually asked, "Can he be saved?"

Monk Hua shook his head. "We don't need to save him. First, we'd only prolong his suffering and make his death more painful. Second, it's troublesome to take him along."

I said, "But he's not dead yet. It doesn't seem right to leave him here."

Monk Hua smiled and shook his head, as if he found me amusing. He pulled out his military knife and lifted the man's neck. I sensed something bad and quickly grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"

"He's poisoned now; his death will be very painful. I'll bleed him so he can die more comfortably."

I was dumbfounded. What kind of logic was that? Just as I was about to shake my head and say no, the "corpse" suddenly convulsed, grabbed Monk Hua's hand, opened its eyes, and kept trembling.

Monk Hua was startled, quickly pulled his hand free, and stepped back several paces.

The man looked at me, then at Monk Hua, apparently regaining consciousness. Suddenly, he sat up and screamed in agony. I couldn't make out what he was shouting. I tried to hold him down, but he was very strong—he threw both Monk Hua and me off. The man rolled on the ground, screaming heartbreakingly, his mouth opening wider and wider, reaching an impossible limit, and his neck swelled as if about to explode. A large amount of foul liquid spewed from his mouth.

Panzi couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled the bolt and fired a shot, sending the man on his way.

The gunshot was louder than I expected. My ears hurt instantly. Panzi's bullet hit him right in the heart. A lot of blood gushed from the corpse, which twitched twice and stopped moving.

"What was he shouting?" Monk Hua asked with cold sweat. "Did anyone understand?"

"Hakka dialect. He was screaming like that, so I couldn't catch much, but it seemed like he was saying 'back, back,'" Ye Cheng said.

"Back? Is there something strange on his back?" Monk Hua turned the corpse over and tried to cut open its clothes to see what was on its back.

Seeing all the blood, I started feeling dizzy. I turned away and told Fatty to come down quickly.

Fatty was still squatting on the beam, looking down at us. He had already lit a cigarette. Seeing me turn, he immediately said, "Stop nagging! You're like my old mother. I swear to Chairman Mao, I'll come down after I finish this cigarette."

I thought, how can you smoke with a gas mask on? I looked at him, then suddenly froze, my scalp tingling. I screamed and fell to the ground.

On Fatty's shoulder, behind him, a strange white face with staring eyes had appeared. Looking closely, it was a strange person clinging to Fatty's back. And Fatty seemed completely unaware.