Chapter 466: Pressing On

This was a very long mountain road. I should have kept it brief, but along the way, Fatty kept trying to probe me from various angles.

This Ghost Figure didn't guard against us at all. I soon realized it wasn't because he had no sense of defense toward us, but because he simply didn't believe we could make it out alive.

Fatty asked a few relatively important questions at that time. The first was about the lynx. Fatty first asked him: "Are these lynxes raised to be eaten?"

The Ghost Figure answered "yes." He used to be a spy and had learned many methods of training animals. Because there were few hunters on this mountain, lynxes were especially plentiful.

All these lynxes were raised by him. Their numbers had already become large. Lynxes are very intelligent and understand human nature. Using the methods taught to him by the spy unit back then, through trial and error, he found a way to tame them.

Lynxes are very strong and extremely fast. They are great at climbing trees and swimming. He had used these lynxes to harm many people, including many hunters who came here.

The second question was about Pan Ma. Fatty asked him about Pan Ma's situation, but he only smiled without speaking, saying he was probably dead.

When we first entered the village, Pan Ma had already informed him. But he didn't know what happened afterwards.

I knew he was hiding something, but I didn't dare to keep asking. After that, the rest of the journey was silent. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, we arrived at a place overgrown with weeds. In the mud, we could see the remains of many pieces of equipment and tents.

It was clearly a camp that had been abandoned for a long time. This was the outpost position that the Ghost Figure and his group used back then to enter the ancient building.

We rested there for a moment, and then the Ghost Figure led us into a crude shack leaning against a rock.

The shack was completely rotten; it was only held up by some vines tangled around it. We bent down and entered, and immediately saw several dried corpses inside, completely entangled in vines, with a layer of something like dry mud caked on them.

"All these people had already stopped breathing when they were dragged out. People killed by soaking in strong lye won't rot even after death. They all dried up."

As he spoke, the Ghost Figure reached in, fumbled around near a few of the dried corpses, and broke off a piece of something from one of them.

It really was a break, because that thing seemed like a scale that had grown together with the corpse. After breaking it off, the Ghost Figure shook it, and the caked mud on it fell off, revealing its true appearance.

It was a cloth bundle.

"This guy was like you, a very skilled grave robber, just unlucky. He treasured this cloth bundle while he was alive. There are many tools inside; maybe you can use them."

The Ghost Figure said. After speaking, he reached his hand into the mud in front of the corpse, dug a few times, and lifted. A cover woven from strips and mixed with mud was lifted up, revealing a cave. "It's here."

I leaned down to feel it and found that the wall of the cave was made of stone slabs. I knew in my heart that this was the right place.

"This cave entrance is the same as the one I went through back then, just much smaller."

"Some caves are for people, some are for other things," the Ghost Figure said. "After you go in, you will definitely see many Miluotuo. I don't understand the mechanism principles inside here.

"But there is a trick — you need to find a very special shadow. This Miluotuo is different from all the others. In front of this shadow, you can use this."

He took a canteen out of his bosom: "Inside is kerosene. You pour the kerosene on the ground in front of this Miluotuo, and the direction the oil flows will tell you the route ahead."

"How is it different?" I asked.

"I don't know; it's different each time. But I can guarantee that once you see this Miluotuo, you'll immediately sense something strange. That kind of difference is very eerie."

After saying that, the Ghost Figure patted me on the shoulder. "Take care of yourselves. Whatever you do, don't make it out alive."

The Ghost Figure immediately left after speaking, leaving us in the shack, feeling bewildered.

"He didn't give my gun back," Fatty said gloomily. "I worked so hard to get that thing. Damn, I already got attached to it."

"If he had given you the gun, what would you have done?" "I would have broken his legs right away, then roasted all the lynxes and eaten them."

"Then he was right. You think he's stupid?" I said. "But he's not completely heartless — he took the weapons but also gave us things."

As he spoke, Fatty opened the cloth bundle the Ghost Figure gave me and spread everything out on the ground to see what there was.

The few corpses nearby gave me chills. Looking at their belongings right next to them, and in this way, I felt it wasn't very respectful.

But when I saw what was among them, I was also drawn in. Many of the things poured out were unrecognizable to me. Fatty's face showed half confusion, half excitement.

I asked him what he thought. He picked out an arm-length iron needle from among the items and tossed it to me. I picked it up and looked at it carefully. The entire long needle was coated with black lacquer. I don't know how it was treated, but there was no sign of peeling.

Under the flashlight, the long needle showed a non-metallic texture, but judging from its weight, it must be made of metal.

The tip of the needle was very sharp. In the middle of the needle, there were patterns that increased friction. Looking closely, you could see six ancient seal script characters on one side of the needle.

This was a small tool used by ancient pickpockets, for prying open delicate jewelry boxes — insert this iron needle into the lock seam and then forcefully pry it open. These jewelry boxes were usually made of tin and were very hard to break.

At the same time, this thing could also be used to break brick walls that aren't particularly sturdy. It was forged using sword-making techniques. In the center of the needle, there was a slightly curved copper core, very hard.

I had acquired a few of these before. Very few people knew their value, making them hard to sell, so I ended up keeping them to play with myself.

These corpses carried these things; it seems these were the small tools they were used to using.

These corpses must have been formidable in their day, yet they died a tragic, unexplained death, lying here for decades, giving me a sense of the final desolation of the outlaws of Mount Liang.

Dying for someone else's wish reminded me of Panzi, and I felt a pang of discomfort, thinking it was a mistake to have called him here, wondering how they were doing now.

Guilt is a very unpleasant emotion. I actually understand that many emotions arise not for the sake of others.

Was I truly concerned about Panzi's safety? Perhaps I just didn't want to feel guilty myself. If Panzi had come with his own goals—whether for money or to fulfill his own ideas—would I be this worried? I don't think so. "Everyone is already prepared to face their own outcome from the start"—that's my mindset.

To some extent, inside I've become a thoroughgoing grave robber, and I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

These corpses have already dried and cracked, making it hard to determine the cause of death.

The ghostly figure said earlier that many people here died in bizarre ways, and there's no way to guess each cause of death. If we stopped because of seeing corpses, there'd be no point in going in.

Fatty categorized everything. Many things I didn't know how to use—odds and ends, plus some fire strikers—I had a good feeling about those.

There were also button-like things made from animal shell fragments, threaded with iron wire. The ghostly figure said they were useful, and I didn't dare disbelieve him, so I told Fatty to pack them all up. If we ended up dead too, these things could still benefit those who come later.

Among the odds and ends were a few things that caught my attention—small, quirky trinkets made from flattened coins.

I'd found them amusing when I saw them before, but a few of this batch were different. I noticed something wrapped inside the small aluminum trinkets. Unwrapping one, I found a pill. I sniffed it—it was gunpowder.

Homemade flares. When the gunpowder burns, it ignites the aluminum, producing a very bright light. Though short-lived, it can illuminate a large area for a brief moment.

These are good stuff, I thought. I gathered them all up, shouldered the gun, and urged Fatty to feel his way into that stone tunnel.