Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 19

That was all the information he could provide, and as he recounted the story, he kept shaking his fist, as if it were proof of his miraculous experience.

“Sell it to us…how about it?” Suren leaned against me, her body trembling violently.

“Sell it to you? No way! Yelan said he'd pay $50,000 for it and resell it in Japan for at least double the price. Unless... unless you can offer $80,000, forget it!”

I know this homeless man is spouting nonsense and asking for an exorbitant price. If this plaque is really a platinum Emperor's gold medal, it's worth no more than $20,000.

Because his mind was preoccupied with Su Lun's unusual changes, his attention wasn't on the sign.

Actually, there's an obvious question here—"Why is the plaque on the outer wall of the pyramid? How could a chain be embedded in a crack in the stone? Unless the plaque got stuck in the outer wall when the chain entered the pyramid, which is why it's sticking out. So, what's hooking the other end of the chain in the crack?"

Most importantly, to which member of the Japanese Imperial Family does the chain belong?

It's obvious that the only member of the royal family in the area is "Miss Fujika," as Tanino inadvertently mentioned. Regardless of which family's princess she belongs to, being addressed as "princess" implies that she could potentially possess such an imperial gold medal.

Then, an even more shocking answer emerged: "Miss Fujika, who has gone missing, has entered the pyramid, but the chain is stuck on the outside."

This not-so-rigorous deduction was something I only came to understand slowly half an hour later, when Su Lun, Long Xing, and I were walking in the underground tunnel.

After I wrote down a check for $100,000, I not only bought the chain, but also the dragon's 24-hour working hours, asking him to take us to the place where the chain was found.

The two special forces soldiers at the wellhead were easily bribed with two thousand US dollars. Besides, their mission was only to prevent external forces from infiltrating the camp, while Su Lun and I were VIPs of Gu Ye, and Long was a small foreman at the construction site. Of course, they had no reason to stop the three of us from going down the well.

Now, that gold medal is in my hand. On the back is the iconic "chrysanthemum and samurai sword" design of the Japanese Imperial Family. Putting aside its platinum circulation value, the medal itself is an exquisite work of art.

"She definitely belongs to Miss Fujika, because during the eavesdropping conversation between Tanino and Watanabe Toshio, I heard Tanino ask the other person this question—'Is that girl wearing the Emperor's gold medal really a princess?' Although the Emperor isn't as promiscuous as monarchs of other countries, it's perfectly normal for such a powerful figure as him to have three or five illegitimate children. Brother Feng, the question now is, how did she... get into the pyramid?"

Suren lowered his voice for the last few words so as not to frighten the dragon.

Think about it: when Miss Tengjia disappeared, there was at least a hundred meters of mud and sand blocking the tunnel from the outer wall of the pyramid. She might have crawled through that mud and sand like an earthworm or a pangolin, but I absolutely cannot imagine how she could have gotten into the crevice.

Even if she possessed a thousand special abilities, she couldn't possibly transform into a gust of wind, a tiny insect, or a wisp of smoke and slip into the pyramid like Sun Wukong in Journey to the West.

"Impossible! Impossible!" Without realizing it, I gritted my teeth and shouted.

"What's impossible?" Suren squeezed my wrist. I don't know when it started, but we've been walking hand in hand all the time.

"Nothing is impossible in this world! Just acknowledge the existence of anything; there's no need to try to explain it using current physics theories, right?"

The Second Underground Horror

— Chapter 12 - The End of the Tunnel —

I looked up suddenly and realized I was back at the place where I had seen that strange mural before. I instinctively stopped in my tracks.

Suren looked up alertly as I did so, and asked in a low voice, "Right here? Is that the place?"

At this moment, the ceiling was perfectly normal, the stainless steel casing reflecting the white light of the fluorescent lamp, cold and stable, without any abnormality.

A gentle breeze was blowing through the tunnel; it was actually a "natural wind" created by the ventilation system. I suddenly thought of Elder Sahan's statement that "the movement of illusion demons creates 'wind' in the physical sense on Earth"—this startling and bizarre idea, if it were to be broadcast in the news, I wonder how much ridicule and abuse it would provoke?

Suren gently patted the back of my hand: "Brother Feng, think more about what happened to Copernicus, hmm? Many strange and unusual academic conclusions only reveal the ignorance of earthlings time and time again, right?"

At that moment, she appeared calmer than I was.

Copernicus, who published his heliocentric theory and was burned alive by his opponents, is considered a model of "not fearing sacrifice in pursuit of truth." If Elder Sahan had proposed the theory that "illusionary demons form winds," he might have become the "second Copernicus" on Earth.

The road beneath my feet remained flat, but as I continued forward, my heart leaped into my throat, fearing I would end up like those special forces soldiers I had witnessed before, rapidly sliding into the abyss. Fortunately, everything was normal, as if all the strange phenomena that had occurred in the tunnel earlier had vanished without a trace.

Long led the way, holding the wine bottle in his hand, and every ten steps or so he would tilt his head back and take a few gulps.

The tunnel gradually developed a bitter, cheap liquor smell, but this smell seemed to feel more familiar to me. Because this tunnel, built entirely of stainless steel and concrete, almost constantly gave me the illusion that I was "not on Earth, not on any planet."

Alcohol is a unique product of humankind on Earth. As long as we can smell alcohol, it at least proves that we are still on Earth.

The lights stretched into the far distance, as if this path of light had no end.

To break the oppressive silence, I asked Suren the question I had just been pondering: "When the tunnel entrance was chosen, why not place it directly between Tsarist Khaganate and the Great Pyramid of Giza? I think any tomb raiding expert, for economic and profit-driven reasons, would have done that, wouldn't they?"

Compared to venturing into the bizarre and mysterious Tsarist Khaganate, I much prefer to become the first person in the world to excavate the remaining parts of the Great Pyramid of Giza. In some religious myths and legends, the person who truly unlocks the secrets of the Great Pyramid of Giza will become the master of the Sphinx, ruling over the legendary Sphinx tribe and becoming the ruler of the universe.

The vast amount of Egyptian material I consulted can be compiled into this clear line of reasoning—

"The Sphinx, with its body and head, was originally the mount of the 'gods.' The gods rode it out of the 'Ark of Light,' and then the dark land of Egypt was filled with light, rivers, food, and trees. The Sphinx monster feeds once every ten thousand years, devouring plagues, diseases, evil, and wars on the land of Egypt, allowing the Egyptians to be purified of their souls once again in the cycle of ten thousand years."

The route ends here, and perhaps those who recorded the information did not continue to record the words of the "gods" and the "sphinx." The break in the written record caused the interruption of this magical legend.

Therefore, every time I see the Sphinx in a movie or in a magazine or book, I think of the legends about the "gods".

If such gods and "ships of light" truly exist, they can only be explained as extraterrestrial spaceships and aliens.

Africa has been engulfed in war for centuries, and plagues and AIDS have ravaged the continent to the point where even mosquitoes can spread them. If a mythical beast like the Sphinx were to open its maw and devour and eliminate all of humanity's calamities, I believe astronauts, paranormal scientists, and religious experts worldwide would applaud.

"I know, I know... Mr. Feng, you are a good person, I can answer your questions for free..."

Long mumbled a reply, then took two more gulps of wine, swaying forward unsteadily. I was really afraid he'd pass out in the tunnel and I'd have to drag him out.

"You know?" I asked skeptically.

“I…of course I know. Yelan told me, he told me everything. The reports you received…I already knew…”

That's entirely possible. He was a medium from Yeran's sect, and a devout Yeran would certainly pray to him first if he had anything to say.

Suren squeezed my wrist, then winked mysteriously and made a "shush" gesture. Her fingers were so smooth that I couldn't help but feel a little flutter in my heart. I boldly reached out and wrapped my arms around her slender waist.

Over this period of time, we seem to have gradually reached a tacit understanding, especially when facing unknown dangers, we will unite more and more closely together.

"Tell me about it. If it's of any use, I can pay you one hundred US dollars." The deal with the dragon had completely reached the level of using "one hundred US dollars" as the benchmark.

"The first camp we set up was between Turkham and the Great Pyramid. You know what? Yelan... that guy has quite the ambition. He once told me that he would... use the same shaft to first help Mr. Scalpel achieve his wish, and then secretly dig northward, all the way north, at a thirty-degree angle—"

He swayed and turned around, banging the bottle against the stainless steel walls on either side, making a monotonous clanging sound. His eyes, reddened by alcohol, stared at me, his breath reeking of alcohol: "Heading north, young man, do you know where heading north will lead?" Before I could answer, he laughed loudly and continued walking forward.

Yelan's ambition was truly enormous. For an ordinary engineering technician like him to covet the secrets beneath the Great Pyramid of Giza was simply blinding him with greed. Did he not consider that with tomb raiders worldwide eyeing him, and the Egyptian military possessing sophisticated aircraft and artillery, could his scheme possibly succeed?

I suddenly let out a long sigh: "People die for wealth, birds die for food, that's absolutely true. And then what happened?"

"And then? Heh heh, strange! Really strange! Yelan told me that after selecting four locations in a row... after the drilling rig was set up, it only went down twenty-five meters before being blocked by a layer of hard rock, and it couldn't go any further."

I almost blurted out, "Nonsense! Ridiculous! Underneath the entire Egyptian desert, let alone twenty-five meters, you won't find any solid rock layers even within two hundred and fifty meters—" But I held back, because a dark mass had appeared in my vision, which must be the end of the tunnel, that is, the outer wall of the Pyramid of Tsar.

I pressed my hand hard against my mouth, and the anger I felt turned into a huge, suppressed gasp of amazement. I don't even know how I managed to run and leap to the front of the pyramid's outer wall. When the fervor in my mind subsided, I realized that I was kneeling before the stone wall, trembling all over, my face streaked with tears.

That was indeed a genuine stone wall. The workers had carefully cleaned away every grain of sand that clung to it. At first glance, you could tell that the stone's composition and structure were exactly the same as those of the Great Pyramid of Giza and all its counterparts along the Nile.

My face was pressed against the stone wall, feeling the boundless coldness and hardness naturally emanating from the stone.

The exposed stone wall at the end of the tunnel is three meters square and remarkably intact. The surface of the wall is mostly smooth, and one can discern the minute marks left by the craftsmen who used the finest chisels to carve it.

I stroked it with both hands again and again, imagining myself as Ali Baba standing in front of the treasure cave of the Forty Thieves. I thought that as long as I said "Open Sesame," it would open up and reveal a beautiful ancient Egyptian world to me.

"Calm down, Brother Feng, it's just an ordinary stone wall. I believe that once the drilling rig arrives, there will be an even more shocking discovery." Suren bent down and squatted at the lower right corner of the stone wall, poking at the very bottom with his fingernail, and turned to ask the dragon, "Is this where the chain was found?"

She was very meticulous and kept searching for the location of the crevice that the dragon had mentioned might exist, in order to verify whether the drunkard was lying.

Long leaned against the wall, so drunk he was slurring his words: "Yes, yes, beautiful lady, it's there...it's there..."

Suren quickly took a magnifying glass out of his pocket, put it close to the corner, and held a pair of pointed tweezers in his other hand, constantly poking at the seam between the stone wall and the tunnel floor.

I lay sprawled on the ground, eyes wide open, having prepared a powerful flashlight beforehand. Under the blinding white light, I was certain not a single hair would escape my notice. The ground was made of a mixture of cement and sand, compacted with a flat vibrator, and the joints with the stone wall weren't completely flush.

I breathed a sigh of relief, because in my previous imagination, the "stone crevice" the dragon mentioned referred to was a gap between two stones on their facade. Only if the chain was caught in such a "crack" could it be called a "strange event." The current situation could be explained by the chain falling into a crack in the sand, and having nothing to do with the pyramids.

Clearly, Suren's face was also filled with disappointment. She even deliberately flicked some sand into the crack and stood up in frustration.

"Perhaps we could use a magnifying glass to carefully examine the entire facade of the stone wall and see if we find anything?" As soon as I said this, my face turned bright red, because it was an incredibly foolish suggestion. The stone wall was three meters square, with a total area of nine square meters. If we were to search all nine square meters with a scientific and rigorous approach under a magnifying glass, it would probably take a whole day to complete.

To hide my embarrassment, I pretended to examine the platinum plaque with my palm open. The $100,000 investment had yielded nothing in the end, leaving me utterly disheartened.

“Brother Feng, no matter what, we can prove that Miss Tengjia was here—although we don’t know how she got here. She came! She must have come!” Suren spread his arms and slowly pressed his body against the stone wall, like an extremely tired traveler about to lie down on a large, soft Simmons bed.

A strange thought suddenly popped into my head: "When the pharaoh's body was carried into the pyramid gate by his subjects, if their souls were still floating in the air, would they naturally assume that entering the pyramid meant going home? That it meant they could finally go to bed and rest forever?"

The Second Part: Underground Horror

— Chapter 13 - The Sands of Resurrection —

Thinking this way, he suddenly felt a chill in the air and no longer hoped to open the tomb with a spell like "Open Sesame." The unknown building in front of him was not a treasure vault for emperors and generals, but the actual tomb where a pharaoh rested and died.

Because of the $100,000 loss, my disgust for Long deepened. I walked to the wall and kicked his shoe: "Hey, buddy, you're not going to tell us that you just picked up the chain out of nowhere on the sand, are you? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Out of so many workers, why did you have to be the one to find it?"

A dazed, blank smile graced his face. His head was tilted, and clear drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. He looked so ridiculous that you just wanted to grab him and throw him into a garbage dump where he'd never be able to escape. An empty wine bottle lay beside him; not a drop of the cheap liquor remained.

“Friend, get up! Prove to me first what you mean by the chain and the crack in the stone…” I bent down to grab his work clothes collar.

Suren suddenly sighed, "He's dead."

"What?" I didn't understand, and put my right hand on the dragon's collar.

“He’s dead, I can feel it. His soul has ascended to heaven.” Suren’s words were deep and obscure, and since she had her back to us and her face was turned towards the stone wall, her voice reflected off the stone wall before reaching my ears, so every word sounded like a heavy echo.

"Who died? Who did you say died?" I had already picked up Long. His body seemed unusually heavy, and his breathing was even. He had actually fallen asleep.

Suren turned around, away from the stone wall, pointed at the dragon, and said with an extremely serious expression: "I'm talking about him. The one you're holding is already a dead man."

Another wave of fear swept through my body; I was holding a dead body in my hand.

Of course not. I know the dragon is still breathing. When I placed my hand on the side of his neck, I could still feel a distinct pulse. He's still alive, of course. No one can die and still breathe and have a heartbeat freely.

"Surlen, stop joking! If we don't find anything, let's retreat to camp for now?" The tunnel was eerily quiet. I wondered if it was just my imagination, but I was already covered in goosebumps and a chill was creeping down my back.

For some reason, Suren suddenly became extremely melancholy. In addition to the sadness that could be expressed in her eyes and face, her whole body exuded a desolate feeling that weighed heavily on people's hearts.

“He’s really dead, Brother Feng. Just now, I could feel his soul had entered—” She pointed to the stone wall, her face pale as she shut her mouth.

I yelled "Ah, ah, ah" three times in a row, and subconsciously used my arm strength to throw the dragon's body more than three meters away, where it landed heavily with a thud.

I understood what Suren meant, but I just couldn't believe what she said—"The dragon's soul entered the Tulihan Pyramid? And Suren could sense it? God, this must be a dream, this must be a dream!" I frantically wiped the hand that had just grabbed the dragon's collar on my sleeve, wiping it as if it were contaminated with the deadliest bacteria in the world.

The dragon was still fast asleep. I felt a "boom" in my head, as if all the blood in my body was rushing to my head.

"Suren, what...what did you sense? What else do you know?"

I leaped over, mimicking Suren's posture, arms outstretched, chest pressed against the stone wall. The cold stone cooled my boiling blood, but it offered no further enlightenment.

The dragon appeared to have become what is medically termed a vegetative state; no matter how much I patted it, it remained unconscious. If Suren's words were true, then this pyramid must harbor a monster that devours human thoughts and souls. But why did it only take the dragon's soul, while sparing Suren and me?

With no answers, we dejectedly dragged the dragon's body back to the ground. A profound sense of defeat made me speechless; I didn't want to see anyone and fled straight back to my tent.

Throughout the morning, almost everyone in the camp had visited the stone wall at the end of the tunnel, but no one was as unlucky as the dragon. When they emerged from the well, their souls were still intact, and they looked ecstatic.

The dragon's body had already been sent to Yelan's tent, a sudden turn of events that startled the workers once again. However, no one cared about the life or death of a vagrant like the dragon; apart from Yelan being slightly saddened and bewildered, everyone quickly forgot about it.

From their cheers and shouts, I roughly understood some of what they were saying: according to legend, the pyramids of Turksham contain mountains of gold and silver, countless treasures, and every Egyptian who is lucky enough to enter them can receive a large share of dazzling treasures.

People always like to adorn themselves with the beautiful halo of legend, but they are never willing to admit what kind of dangerous traps are hidden behind the temptation of great wealth.

I have visited the excavated burial sections of the Great Pyramid of Giza four times, and I was deeply impressed by some of the ingenious and treacherous traps and mechanisms within. Since it was his final resting place, the Pharaoh must have used all his wisdom to set up traps and ambushes to prevent tomb raiders from entering.