Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 48

First of all, it can be confirmed that the "Eye of the Moon" is hidden inside the Turkic Pyramid, and all ancient records indicate this.

I nodded: "Please go ahead."

James wore a cautious expression, as if every word he was about to say was a huge secret: "Dr. Cheney claims to have found the whereabouts of the 'Eye of the Moon' and is waiting for the right moment to seize it. If Mr. Feng is willing, we can cooperate once, obtain that treasure, and then split the profits in half, how about it?"

I said "Oh," hoping to glean some clues from behind his large glasses. Why now, of all times, has he brought up the tempting news of the "Eye of the Moon" amidst the internal strife within the Desert Legion? I must be extra cautious.

Part 4: The Battle Between Heaven and Man

— Chapter 13 — Tengjia and the Golden Armor —

In fact, James had always kept a low profile. After arriving at the camp, apart from occasionally whispering with Cheney, he rarely talked to anyone else, including Tano and Scalpel.

"You think so highly of me?" I laughed, keeping a close eye on the situation at the tent, afraid that the "Resurrection Sand" would turn Tengjia into a terrifying zombie after it took effect.

“Mr. Feng is a young talent in the Italian archaeological world. Professor Levkin and Dr. Ya Shi both recommended you to me. Now that there is an opportunity to cooperate, of course I can’t miss it, right?” He took out a box of exquisite black cigars and handed it to me, winking mysteriously.

“I don’t smoke,” I refused him.

"This isn't an ordinary cigar; it's made from thousand-year-old snow lotus tobacco from Jalan Chapel, India. It's said to accelerate the division and growth of brain cells in young people and enhance mental potency, twice that of heroin. What, you won't even give me this much face?"

He mentioned four names in succession: "Professor Levkin, Dr. Ya Shi, Zhelanpubang, and Millennium Snow Lotus," which shocked me more and more each time.

Levkin and Estèphe are both leading figures in the Italian Archaeological Association, enjoying international renown in both legitimate and illegitimate circles. For an unknown nobody like me to receive their praise and recommendation is akin to a fish leaping over the dragon gate, soaring to great heights. As for Chalamet, it is a state at the northernmost tip of India, near the Himalayas, famous for producing high-purity heroin. "Thousand-year snow lotus" is merely a bizarre variant of poppy cultivation, its high purity making it coveted by buyers worldwide.

James's mention of these four terms at least proves that he had been paying attention to me for some time and had close ties with Indian drug cartels.

I never touch drugs, and I keep my distance from drug cartels.

“Dr. James, you know there’s a Chinese saying, ‘Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together’—we’re not on the same page, so it’s best not to cooperate.” I refused him without any politeness.

James chuckled softly, "Young man, why reject me so quickly? The Indian government is always eager for high-tech talent. Someone as talented as you would have a bright future if you joined the Indian Army. Think it over carefully, and answer me later..."

RN is short for India's Special Response Rapid Force, reportedly stationed at the foot of a snow-capped mountain in the Himalayas. This force's mission is to handle all contingencies within India, roughly equivalent to the U.S. Army's Green Berets.

"Why would I join the Indian army when I'm perfectly fine?"

James's idea just makes me laugh. I'm Chinese, and relations on the Sino-Indian border have only recently improved; I don't want to be accused of betraying my country.

James laughed and stepped back: "Little brother, think it over carefully. Once you've figured it out, come to my tent."

His smile was incredibly eerie, as if he had already caught me in some way and could make me submit at any moment.

I didn't pay attention to James' last words; my attention was entirely on the tent. Seeing that Suren hadn't come out for a long time, I simply strode over there.

The tent flap was half-rolled up by the wind, revealing a black folding cot in the center. Each of the four legs of the cot was secured with a one-inch-wide strap, crisscrossing to fasten Tengjia's body to the bed frame. I didn't know the reason why Tanino had ordered Tengjia to be bound so tightly; perhaps he was more afraid of certain eerie legends about the pyramids than I was—besides, since Tengjia was already in a vegetative state, she certainly wouldn't object to being bound or placed in any way.

In this respect, Tanino’s way of handling the problem is even more puzzling. He treated a “princess-level” person so rudely. Wasn’t he afraid of being criticized by the Japanese Imperial Family?

Su Lunning stood in front of the cot, head bowed, her right hand outstretched in mid-air, the bag that had held the "Soul-Resurrection Sand" was now empty.

"Sulen, how are you?"

Suren looked up in bewilderment and smiled bitterly: "I've already thrown sand on her, but it seems... it hasn't had any effect?"

This is not surprising, as the dragon's "resurrection sand" is not a medical stimulant that can miraculously bring a half-dead person back to life at any time.

I had reached Tengjia's bedside, facing Suren across the bed. In her left hand, she held the gold rope tied to the plastic bag, which fluttered in the breeze coming through the curtain.

The sand started falling from Tengjia's hair, then down his forehead, the hollow of his nose, his throat, his chest... all the way to his toes. Suren did it very carefully, spreading the sand very evenly, but Tengjia remained fast asleep with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly, deep in drowsiness.

I've seen many special care wards for "vegetative state" patients in hospitals. If various tubes and monitoring instruments were added to this tent, it would immediately become a standard "vegetative state" ward.

Thinking back to when I first met Tengjia, how arrogant and full of ambition she was, and then looking at her lifeless state now, I suddenly felt that the workings of life were utterly ridiculous—"Yesterday's glory may be less than dirt today. And tomorrow? If she wakes up, will she remember that someone once saved her life with 'resurrection sand'?"

As I was thinking, I suddenly burst out laughing.

Suren looked up, puzzled, and asked, "Brother Feng, what are you laughing at?"

I waved my hand forcefully, brushing the sand off Tengjia's forehead to avoid alarming the soldiers guarding her when they returned. I smiled at Suren and said, "Suren, we've all been fooled by the dragon and Yelan. Think about it, the so-called 'loss of soul' and 'resurrection' are just plot devices made up by third-rate novelists. In real life, where are there so many bizarre coincidences? If 'resurrection sand' had such magical properties, how many vegetative patients worldwide could it save if mass-produced?"

Suren shook her head: "No, I don't think the dragon lied—"

A gust of wind swept in, and Suren's words carried a startling chill, sending shivers down my spine.

Especially her eyes when she spoke, deep and serene, as if recounting an absolutely true history: "When the three of us were at the end of the tunnel, I pressed my whole body against the stone wall, and I truly felt his soul escape from his body, gracefully entering the stone wall beside me. I can even exaggerate and say that he entered the stone wall sideways, facing me, and was smiling and waving goodbye to me the whole time..."

She never told me this.

"Really? Aren't you being too sensitive?" Her description immediately reminded me of scenes from Hong Kong ghost movies.

“No, it’s true. Brother Feng, I always feel that the Tuli Khan Pyramid is actually ‘alive.’ It has thoughts, it breathes, and it can communicate with people in some strange way… In time, we should be able to figure out this way…” Suren was completely immersed in strange thoughts and casually placed the plastic bag and the rope on Tengjia’s bedside.

Two soldiers, carrying submachine guns, strolled in, routinely circled the bed, and then strolled out.

Distracted by their interruption, Suren regained her composure, crossed her arms behind her head, stretched her back, and smiled sheepishly as if waking from a dream: "Brother Feng, did my words scare you?"

To be honest, her description really gave me the creeps.

I looked down at Tengjia's face and asked myself, "What did she find in that scripture? And what kind of magical power allowed her to fly directly from the camp into the ancient well underground?"

Fujika was completely covered with a military blanket, from his neck to his feet, and the blanket was tightly bound together with straps.

Suren suddenly reached out and pressed on Tengjia's chest, letting out a surprised "Oh".

"What?" I asked hurriedly, thinking that the golden armor on Tengjia's body should explain something.

We were truly of one mind, because Suren then looked up and said, "Brother Feng, she's still wearing her armor; Gu Ye just took the golden helmet and golden boots—"

We exchanged a quick glance and immediately understood: "No wonder they covered Tengjia's body with a blanket and bound her tightly with straps; these strange actions were just to cover up her golden armor."

I casually pressed on Tengjia's arm and calf, and sure enough, they were hard to the touch.

In this situation, if the straps could be untied and the blanket lifted, the armor could be examined closely. However, that would probably require permission from Tanino, Scalpel, or Natura.

I frowned: "Suren, why doesn't Gu Ye just take off his armor and change Teng Jia into other clothes? Could it be..."

The reason, of course, wasn't because there weren't any girls' clothes in the camp. With the high priest here, getting military supplies was just a matter of a word.

The sound of two soldiers pacing at the door came from inside. They were indeed quite dutiful, perhaps also to prevent anyone from touching Fujika's body for any reason.

Su Lun took a deep breath: "Brother Feng, I have video footage from the tomb, including close-up pictures of you rescuing Teng Jia from the ancient well. Let's take a look when we get back—I suspect... I suspect..." She smiled strangely and walked towards the door first.

I leaned down, staring closely at Tengjia's slightly pale face, and silently prayed, "Whether you wake up or not, please give us some clues about the Turkic Pyramid, okay?"

Modern medicine has not yet developed to the point where it can extract memories from the brain tissue of "vegetative state" patients. Even the Germans, who are at the forefront of neuroscience, have only made a slight breakthrough in "blurred imaging of brain cells." They are still a long way from being able to clearly read human brain thoughts.

The quickest and most feasible method I can think of right now is Elder Sahan's mind-reading ability. Before Tenga leaves, if he could communicate with Natura and release Elder Sahan, he could see if the elder could read Tenga's secret…

Back in my tent, Suren had already connected the miniature camera to her laptop and was sitting there, gazing blankly into a cup of coffee.

A subtle detail had emerged in the camp: behind almost every tent, at least two armed soldiers were now stationed. Although no one spoke a word or coughed loudly, the atmosphere in the camp was unmistakably tense.

Suren looked up with a worried expression: "Brother Feng, you should be able to sense that 'a storm is brewing,' right?"

Her suitcase concealed a pistol, a folding submachine gun, and at least ten grenades, but such conventional weapons were nothing more than children's toys in the face of the Rainbow Warriors' rapid-fire machine guns. Those large-caliber, low-heat-generating American-made machine guns, with their storm-like destructive power, could instantly riddle a reinforced military truck with holes, let alone in the desert where there was currently no cover to hide in.

"It's alright. Even if a mutiny is imminent, we'll just stand by and watch. Let them do what they want—"

Suren interrupted me: "What if Tina is in trouble?" Her gaze was fixed on me, leaving me speechless for a moment.

Images were already on the laptop screen, and the camera slowly swept across countless tomb wall carvings, pausing briefly on several patterns of "sunships of the sun".

Two minutes later, the camera focused on the wellhead, the steel cable twisting rapidly, then my head appeared, followed by the iron box, the vines...

"Hey, I never imagined I looked so terrible back then!" I exclaimed, changing the subject.

As you can see from the video, my face was very pale, and my forehead and neck were covered in glistening cold sweat. Apart from my eyes still shining with excitement, I looked as weak as someone recovering from a serious illness.

The process of rescuing people from the well was very simple to describe. I was so nervous at the time that I didn't even have time to savor my mixed feelings.

"Hehe, this videotape should be kept safe. When Fujika wakes up in the future, it can serve as evidence for her to repay the favor—"

The camera zooms in, and the first thing you see is the golden helmet. Shaped like an inverted bowl, it's called a "golden helmet" simply because it's placed on Tengjia's head. The bowl is smooth and shiny, without any of the familiar carvings found on Earth, completely covering Tengjia's head and hair.

The bottom of the alms bowl, which is also the top of the golden helmet, is a perfectly round shape—Suren asked in a low voice, "Brother Feng, do you think this thing looks like half a light bulb?"

She was continuing the theory that "a glowing gold ingot can be called a light bulb," and this strange bowl, from a certain angle, does indeed resemble half a light bulb. Strangely, creating a gold artifact of such a shape would probably require extremely fine molds.

The camera then shifts to Tengjia's feet, revealing two plump, rounded gold boots with the uppers barely reaching her ankles.

Suren suddenly sighed, "That wasn't the Golden Boot, it was...it was..."

She couldn't find a suitable adjective to describe it, because there is absolutely no shoe in the world with a rounded sole. Such golden boots would make it impossible for a person to walk upright comfortably.

After the rescue, I was probably too nervous. After listening to Tina's words, I left the central tomb and completely handed Tengjia over to the medical team to take care of. I didn't notice so many details at all.

“Brother Feng, you were too nervous back then… In fact, if it were anyone else in the camp, they probably wouldn’t even have had the courage to go down the well.”

Suren fast-forwarded the footage slightly, focusing the camera on Tengjia's chest and waist. At that moment, the image made me want to burst into laughter, but I was also utterly horrified. My mind felt like a jumbled mess of spices, a mix of emotions—"They're...two complete gold sleeves?"

The so-called "armor" was just two sleeves, one covering Fujika's chest and the other covering her waist and above her knees. In modern clothing terms, the top was a "tube top," and the bottom was a standard office worker's "pencil skirt."

Suren froze the image, got up to make coffee, and gave me some time to slowly recover from the shock.

With such armor covering his body, even if Tengjia were to wake up, he probably wouldn't be able to walk; he could only sit or lie down. "Suren, this... this isn't armor, but... but some kind of decoration? Isn't that right?"

Suren returned with a paper cup, handed me the steaming coffee, and said thoughtfully, "Perhaps... perhaps it could be considered a decoration? Why not some kind of totem symbol?"

I took the coffee and casually asked, "Why didn't you tell me on the phone sooner? I was in such a rush when I left that I didn't get a good look at the golden armor on Tenga. If you had told me earlier, maybe I could have gotten some information out of Tina..."

This situation was so bizarre that I became so excited that my voice gradually rose and I lost control.

Suddenly, Su Lun said something unrelated: "Brother Feng, do you feel like you've lost a lot of weight and look haggard lately?" She took out a small, round enamel mirror from her pocket, popped it open, and held it out in front of me.

I was taken aback for a moment, then subconsciously asked, "Really?"

My face was reflected in the mirror, pale with a hint of sallowness, my eyes bloodshot, and the area around my eyes a startlingly bluish-gray. Tiny blisters had formed on my lips, and my face and neck were covered in the dust typical of the desert—"Is this me?" I laughed self-deprecatingly, rubbing my face hard. Touching the blisters, I suddenly felt a piercing pain.

Since the four experts arrived at the camp, I've barely had a single night of restful sleep, my mind completely occupied by the Turkham Pyramid. Even in my dreams, fragments of my dreams are filled with bizarre and terrifying scenarios like raging floods, ferocious beasts, ancient tombs, and monstrous snakes.

"People aren't made of iron. If you get sick from exhaustion, who will I be able to rely on in the camp?"

Another digression. Suren's voice became soft and weak, as if her mood was gradually sinking as the chill of the night crept in.

I'm not a clueless fool, I just don't want to get entangled in romantic feelings too early.

The world is so vast, and the world is so boundless. I once solemnly swore, emulating the ancients' heroic act of "How can I think of a home when the Xiongnu have not yet been destroyed!": "I will never consider personal feelings for my children before all my ideals are fulfilled!"

"I'm fine, we'll all be fine." I sighed and got up, avoiding Suren's gaze and concern.

In an instant, Suren regained her composure, put away the mirror, and switched the screen to display a densely packed document: "Brother Feng, we have reason to suspect that what Tengjia is wearing is some kind of 'sacred garment' from an ancient Egyptian ritual. Similar examples have appeared in Mayan murals—"

At the end of the document was an extremely clear stone carving. On the dark blue stone was carved a large altar, surrounded by a large group of people with solemn faces and tattered clothes. One of them held a torch and was about to light a pile of dry firewood spread on the altar, and on the firewood lay a person with an extremely short body.

"The murals come from the temple base of the Mayan pyramids. According to archaeologists' reasoning and research, this sacrificial ritual was a prayer for the heavens to send a god to possess the sacrificial offering and sweep away the plague on earth."

Suren tapped the keyboard twice, zooming in on the person lying on the altar to the maximum. Now he could vaguely see that the person's head, body, and feet were basically similar to Tengjia's strange state.