Chapter 362: Yin Mountain Ancient Building: Thirty-Five

Suddenly I felt something wrong on my shoulder — where Poker-face had pressed just now was covered in blood. From the other side came Fatty's heart-rending scream, not the sound of someone gaining the upper hand, but the roar of someone cornered, enough to make one's soul flee and spirit scatter.

Although I couldn't see anything, I could imagine the scene around us — those figures within the stones must have surrounded us completely.

Recalling what I had seen written on the ground earlier: sixteen, seven, ten, four — thirty-seven in total. Those two had already been burned to death, so the ones we had to face now were thirty-five.

I couldn't see what was happening around me, nor did I know if Fatty and the others were injured, so I didn't say much. At the same time, I had no energy to let my mind wander; I gripped the steel rod tightly and focused all my attention on my ears.

Fatty was far away from us, likely already cut off, with no one by his side. He seemed a bit unable to control his nerves — his breathing was very tense, yet at the same time he was meanly trying to lower his own breathing, thinking inwardly that they should all come for him.

The standoff didn't last long; sure enough, things exploded at Fatty's side first. He let out a muffled grunt, then yelled, "Fuck! Let's do this!"

With a whoosh, I didn't know what he had hit, but chaos erupted there. Something shrieked, and at the same time, hissing sounds arose all around like a startled flock of birds, all of it converging on him.

I swung my rod, wanting to help as quickly as possible, but after taking no more than two steps, I collided with something — slippery and slimy. Before I could react, a sharp screech sounded in the darkness, a strong wind arose, and I was knocked to the ground. Several spots on my body immediately flared with sharp pain.

I grabbed at it with my hand and caught a claw, but it slipped away immediately. In haste, I flailed my hands to block, and soon my hands were scratched to pieces. But after just a few seconds, I heard a dull thud, and the thing was kicked away by someone.

I scrambled to my feet frantically, but Poker-face beside me pressed down on my shoulder and said softly but firmly, "Don't speak! Don't move!" Then he shot off like a gust of wind toward Fatty.

The feeling in my heart was strange — I wanted to go up and help, but I also felt I couldn't disobey Poker-face's words. Suddenly I sensed something wrong with my shoulder; when I felt it, the place where he had pressed just now was covered in blood.

That amount of blood couldn't have come from a self-inflicted cut; he must have been seriously injured. My heart chilled. That struggle just now, though it had sounded in the dark like he had the upper hand, clearly he hadn't gained much advantage.

From the other side came Fatty's heart-wrenching scream, not the sound of one dominant, but the roar of one forced into a dead end — it was soul-shattering. Many times, I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if something happened to one of us three. But as much as I thought about it, as long as Poker-face was around, I always felt such a thing was impossible. Now, however, that feeling evaporated. Fatty might very well be killed here.

"Retreat to the wall!"

Poker-face's voice came from Fatty's position. As his words fell, the situation became even more chaotic — screams, the sounds of bodies falling, and Fatty's curses all mingled together.

My mind went blank; I couldn't think anymore. Clutching the steel rod, I couldn't move, only listening to the commotion from over there. It was useless for me to go up — the chaos was beyond my comprehension. Anyone not extremely agile who tried to get close might even be killed by Fatty accidentally. I don't know how long this state lasted, but suddenly, the clamor ceased, and there was utter silence.

I still dared not move, unsure of the situation. Were they all dead? Or had all the stone people been eliminated? Or perhaps both? I listened carefully for a while, and then, with a click, the exploration lamp lit up to one side. I turned my head and saw it was Poker-face, supporting Fatty with one hand and holding my lamp with the other.

I let out a sigh, watching him limp over with Fatty to where I was. He set Fatty down and sat down himself. Both of them were covered in cuts, bleeding heavily.

Amid the blood covering almost his entire body, the Qilin tattoo appeared again. This time, not just his shoulder — his entire upper body seemed to be blazing, spreading across his whole body.

I was dumbfounded, but he handed the lamp to me, took my hand in his, and pointed the lamp at an opening in the wall — the crack from which those stone people had emerged.

"This is a passage formed by the movement of these things," he said. "I took a look just now — this passage might lead outside. Take your tools and leave quickly."

I nodded immediately. "Take a rest first. Let me check your wounds. If you're okay, we'll leave right away. Damn it, I thought we were doomed this time. I really have to hand it to you — I never expected you to be this formidable."

He leaned back against the stone wall and said flatly, "He and I — we can't leave."

"What nonsense are you talking?" I cursed.

He suddenly smiled at me and said, "At least I didn't get you killed..."

I froze. After a moment, he coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.

"You —" My mind buzzed.

He was still smiling at me, his head slowly drooping down. He sat there, as if merely resting. But all around, there was complete silence.