Chapter 71: Corpse Moth

My composure and that of the man in the black sunglasses brought a slight sense of relief to the other old ghost’s subordinates, yet in truth, I was utterly powerless to resolve the crisis before us. It seemed that the man in the black sunglasses had no good solution either.

“If worst comes to worst, we’ll have to use explosives. But that would be far too dangerous,” he whispered in my ear. Instantly, I remembered that we were all carrying grenades and, most likely, the old ghost’s men had blasting caps and other demolition equipment as well. But in such a confined space, the danger would be immense—any explosion, even if carefully measured to open only a small breach, could trigger a collapse and we’d all be caught in the blast.

After a long silence, a voice broke the temporary calm. The man called Six suddenly spoke:

“You’re not people sent by Lady Gu San.”

Not only did the man in the black sunglasses freeze for a moment, but I too was startled by his sudden accusation. Without warning, Six raised his gun at us and shouted, “Who are you really?!”

At this moment, the man in the black sunglasses merely smiled calmly. He didn’t reach for his gun, but instead unfastened his tactical belt, revealing several grenades hanging from it. In the bright beam of the flashlight, those three grenades stood out starkly in the cramped space.

“Surprising, you’re not as dumb as you look. But do you dare to pull the trigger? Hmm?” he said, utterly fearless.

Immediately, two men beside Six raised their weapons and aimed at the man in the black sunglasses. I glanced sideways and asked Six, “How did you know we weren’t Lady Gu San’s people? Was it our gear?”

That was all I could think of for the moment. I’d worried about this before—after all, the man in black sunglasses and I had taken our equipment from their camp. Wearing the same gear, it was inevitable we’d be found out.

“Heh, I admit I’m not too bright, but I’m no fool,” Six replied. “Since I came in here, I noticed something was wrong. Sure, your equipment matches ours, but you don’t know the details. Lady Gu San procured all our gear, so both her men and ours wear the same outfits. That’s not the issue.”

He paused, then continued coldly, “The real reason is this: since you entered, you’ve shown no concern for Lady Gu San’s people, nor have you rushed to find your own. Most crucially, I just remembered—there’s a rule in Lady Gu San’s West Gate crew: when going underground, everyone ties a unique dual-colored cord around their wrist. Neither of you have it!”

I was taken aback. This fellow didn’t seem all that clever, yet his delayed realization was sharp and his analysis spot-on.

Still, none of us made a move. In such a cramped space, numbers meant little. If shooting broke out, we’d all be doomed—no one wanted mutual destruction, not when it was unnecessary.

“Let’s focus on how to get out of here for now,” said the man in the black sunglasses, his hand resting on his grenade, his tone unhurried. “There’s maybe enough oxygen for an hour. All this excitement just shortened our survival time.”

Six’s face darkened as he listened; clearly, he understood the danger.

So the stalemate continued. Despite the fact that everyone present had blood on their hands and was no stranger to ruthlessness—especially the three old ghost’s men, seasoned tomb raiders and desperadoes—everyone kept calm. One wrong move and nobody would walk away.

Then, unexpectedly, the man known as Sixth Brother proposed a temporary truce. The man in the black sunglasses and I remained silent—implicit consent. Immediately, the others took out entrenching tools and chisels. For professional tomb raiders, this was second nature, and they began digging at a spot on the wall.

Half an hour passed. The men were breathing heavily, and even I, who’d been sitting, found my breath difficult to control—let alone those who’d been laboring nonstop.

I knew the oxygen inside was dwindling. Our labored breaths meant we’d soon be in a hypoxic state. The situation was urgent—but their excavation was not going well. Though their movements were skilled and their speed decent, they had opened a tunnel over two meters long and still hadn’t broken through.

“Could it be... we dug in the wrong direction?” one man gasped, barely able to catch his breath. Another cried out, “Then... what do we do? I’m exhausted, and it’s suffocating!”

I turned to the man in the black sunglasses and saw he was still sitting motionless, as if asleep, his brow tightly knit. I couldn’t see his expression or tell if his eyes were open. So I asked, “What should we do?”

Honestly, I had no good ideas left. I could only turn to him—he seemed the more reliable of us. No sooner had I asked than he replied:

“What else can we do? If nothing else works, we’ll just have to use explosives.”

After all the thinking, that seemed the only option. Right then, someone suddenly shouted, “Damn, what’s this creepy stuff?!”

I turned quickly and saw dark green water oozing from their excavated tunnel. It had no scent, but looked nauseating. Then I noticed strange little insects in the green liquid, resembling cockroaches. I wondered, how could such creatures be here?

At that moment, the man in the black sunglasses suddenly rose into a half crouch, his face grave, brows furrowed tightly. He spoke:

“Corpse maggots?”

No sooner had he said it than Six cried out in alarm, “It’s corpse maggots! Damn, how can there be such things here?!”

Corpse maggots? The name sounded familiar. Suddenly, I remembered—I had indeed heard of them, mentioned in my father’s research notes.