Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 13

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but the tiger raised its left little finger and waved it leisurely at me, signaling me to be quiet. I was even more annoyed and glared angrily at the man in black. He had a pair of long, narrow eyes, single eyelids, a small nose, a small mouth, and not a single beard on his philtrum or chin, which inadvertently reminded me of the eunuchs in the deep palaces of emperors throughout history.

He slowly tucked the soft sword into his black belt, his eyes sharp as swords as he looked at me.

The girl took the apple, took a small bite, and smiled. Her eyes were large and bright, with thick, dark eyelashes that were exceptionally long and curled naturally upwards. Her hair was long and draped casually over her shoulders, giving her an ethereal and pure appearance.

Tiger let out a long breath and asked softly, "Is it good?" That cloyingly sweet voice sent shivers down my spine. A man who could utter such sweet nothings could never be the chivalrous Tiger I once knew.

The girl nodded, tightened the collar of her snow-white fox fur coat, and pointed her finger at the man in black: "Song Jiu, you may not be a match for Mr. Feng. Be careful." Her movements were elegant and noble, carrying the innate arrogance of a princess from a great nation, which subconsciously inspired awe in people, making them feel that she was "to be admired from afar but not to be trifled with."

When I first met Fujika, I thought she was very arrogant, but I always disagreed with her and did not agree with her beauty, glamour, and arrogance.

Now, seeing this girl in front of me, I feel from the bottom of my heart that she is as pure and beautiful as an uncut piece of jade. Just being able to look at her and listen to her from afar makes me feel incredibly happy.

Tiger stood up, swaying his broad shoulders, and chuckled softly, "Be careful, let me introduce you, this is my good friend Yang Feng."

This guy, who values women over friends, even skipped the usual hug when old friends met, and just stayed by the bedside, refusing to move.

"Ahem, hello Mr. Feng, it's an honor to meet you." She smiled, tilting her chin slightly to reveal two clearly defined and captivating "beauty bones" on her neck. When she smiled with her eyes narrowed, a gentle, shimmering tenderness would emanate from them, penetrating straight into my heart.

“Feng, this is Xiaoxin, Tang Xin. That’s Song Jiu, Xiaoxin’s bodyguard.”

The man in black retreated hostilely, all the way to Tang Xin's bedside, his fingers still resting on the hilt of the soft sword. His expression was desolate and aloof, like a startled night owl. Especially his eyes, filled with distrust and hostility towards everyone, made him seem less human and more like a wild beast spoiled by nature.

I have no idea where Tiger picked up these two experts, so I can only put on a smile and say, "Hello, Miss Tang, hello, Mr. Song!"

Song Jiu flicked the hilt of his sword, raised his head with a nonchalant air, and snorted in response. Although this guy's attire was strange, his swordsmanship was quite remarkable. The two moves he just made actually combined the essence of Chinese swordsmanship and Western martial arts. Although it was only two swords, it was enough to show that he was versatile and came from a famous school.

"Feng, Xiaoxin knew you were involved in the excavation of the Pyramid of Tulihan, which is why she urged me to come so urgently. She needs the unique thousand-year-old corpse worms from beneath the pyramid to make medicine. Surely you won't refuse your old friend's request?"

Tiger had long since lost his composure, babbling incessantly like a foolish country farmer. What was most infuriating was that he would turn back to look at Tang Xin's face with a fawning expression after every sentence, just like a naive young man falling in love for the first time.

I settled into the European-style armchair at the table, stretched out my legs comfortably, and asked slowly, "Preparing medicine? Is Miss Tang a doctor?"

The millennium-old corpse worm is a unique product of mummies found in the pyramids. It can shut down its respiratory and bodily systems for thousands of years without oxygen or food, remaining alive for such a long time. These worms harbor many strange and unique bacteria found only in the pyramids. Even a small piece of their limb, the size of a fingernail, has immense scientific value and is a highly sought-after treasure by doctors worldwide.

"No." Tang Xin smiled, took another bite of the apple, and chewed it without showing her teeth.

"So, what do you intend to do with these corpse worms?"

"This... I use it to make medicine to counteract the five poisons in the world. Mr. Feng, are you also interested in poisoning and antidoting?" Tang Xin handed the apple to the side, and the tiger immediately reached out to take it, cooperating like the most attentive servant in the world.

I stared intently at Tang Xin's face, a chill running down my spine.

The "Five Poisons of the World" refers to the five most venomous creatures found on Earth. The definition of these "five poisons" varies from region to region, continent to continent, and among different ethnic groups. As far as I know, in the Asian continent, the five poisons are the scorpion (a natural enemy of the scorpion), the white-flowered snake, the blue-faced spider, the centipede, and the golden-eyed toad. If even one-tenth of the toxins contained in these five creatures enters a human's bloodstream, the victim will die instantly, with no cure.

"Who are you...who are you?" I knew my teeth were chattering, but I forced myself to hold it in.

"The Tang Clan of Sichuan, the Heart of Tang".

I yelled "Ah!" and jumped up from the chair, quickly taking more than ten steps back to stop in front of the window.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan is not merely a fictional entity created by martial arts novelists; it is a real force in the martial arts world, primarily residing in the rugged mountains and dense forests of Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan. Members of this clan are all skilled in the production, administration, and antidote of poisons. Furthermore, due to their environment and the complexities of the martial arts world, every child of the Tang Clan is instilled with narrow-minded, extreme, violent, and cruel ideologies from birth, until they grow into a standard poison master who is at odds with the world.

"Mr. Feng, a man of your intelligence, should have guessed my origins long ago, right?" Tang Xin's lips curved into a captivating smile.

I cursed myself inwardly. Hearing the words "surname Tang, afraid of the cold," I should have guessed that he was related to the Tang Clan of Sichuan. Tiger brought back two such dangerous experts; no wonder Scalpel was so worried.

(The first part of "The King of Tomb Raiders," "The Ancient Egyptian Tomb," is now complete. Please see the second part, "Terror Underground.")

The Second Underground Horror

— Chapter 1 - Emperor's Gu —

I had long anticipated that once the news of the excavation of the Turkic Khan Pyramid spread, all sorts of martial arts figures would flock to the site, leaving me overwhelmed. But I never expected that the first to show up would be the Tang Clan from Sichuan.

"The thousand-year-old corpse worms are completely useless to you; on the contrary, they are a scourge. Moreover, our Tang Clan can provide a way to resist all poisons, poisonous gases, and toxins... cough cough..." At this point, Tang Xin coughed again, covering her lips with her hand, her face growing paler.

Upon closer inspection, her black hair had a faint green phosphorescence that shimmered, as if it were mixed with many green hairs.

I composed myself and turned to the tiger: "Do I really have to help him with this?"

When we met, my old friend immediately presented me with a difficult problem. Moreover, he hadn't even had a chance to inform the scalpel about all the strange changes that had occurred in the underground tunnel—we can't even get into the pyramids, so how can we talk about corpse worms?

The tiger shrugged: "Of course, be careful what you say, it's like a royal decree, you have to obey. Tell me, what conditions are needed?"

I gasped, silently clenching my fists. It suddenly occurred to me that, according to martial arts records, among the Gu techniques mastered by the Tang Clan of Sichuan, there was one called "Emperor Gu," which would cause the afflicted person to bow and worship the one who cast it, just as a commoner would kowtow to an emperor, completely subservient.

Given Tiger's character, such respectful service to someone was unprecedented, even towards his own parents and elders in the clan. The Gu poison techniques of the Yunnan-Guizhou-Sichuan region are mysterious and unpredictable, with over a thousand types of Gu poison that are impossible to guard against. Even if Tiger is a master among masters, he could still fall victim to their tricks.

I forced a smile and wiped my face: "No conditions! Not a single condition. We're good brothers, your business is my business, no problem."

Tang Xin suddenly let out a cold laugh, her lips still curled up, revealing a small, shallow dimple on her left cheek. Although her gaze wasn't directed at me, a deep chill ran from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.

The person with green hair already exuded an eerie aura, and the thought of her mysterious identity sent shivers down my spine. Song Jiu, with her cold, expressionless face, was like a stone or wooden sculpture, her fingers resting on the hilt of her sword, her eyes fixed straight ahead, vacant. None of these three were behaving normally at this moment, especially Tiger, who was usually so forthright and chivalrous, suddenly transforming into a sissy, agreeable gentleman—it disgusted me deeply.

As he left the master bedroom, a servant in a white robe waited respectfully outside the door: "Mr. Feng, the master is waiting for you on the terrace. This way, please—"

With a heavy heart, I followed the servant through several archways to the terrace, completely oblivious to everything else.

The scalpel seemed to be no less preoccupied than I was. He held a glass of wine in one hand, propped his temple with the other, and curled up on his side in an old-fashioned sandalwood chair. At his feet lay a tan Shar-Pei dog, its head buried in its paws, fast asleep, its massive body curled up in a ball.

The bottle on the table was open, and half of it was gone.

“Feng, let’s get straight to the point. There’s definitely a misunderstanding between you and Suren. The matter is urgent and strange, so let’s skip the formalities and just state the facts.” He casually pressed the play button on a high-precision recorder next to him. After a slight AC signal, Tanino’s voice came through: “Commander Watanabe…”

My mind immediately went to attention; those must have been all the recordings left by the bug that Su Lun had put on Gu Ye.

The scalpel smiled faintly, swirling the wine in the glass. The light and shadow of the setting sun reflected in the crystal glass, leaving behind a beautiful, shimmering illusion. His fingers remained long and steady; even after so long in seclusion, it seemed he had never stopped honing his physical skills. Therefore, in every respect, he remained a master of tomb raiding.

“You’ve misunderstood Suren! The documents are too long, and the situation is so urgent. Without proper editing, you simply wouldn’t have enough time to digest all of this. Feng, Suren always does things concisely and appropriately, knowing when to advance and when to retreat. I hope that you two can become good friends, good partners, even…”

He laughed, tilted his head back, and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp, a flush rising to his pale face.

I neither agreed nor disagreed with his words. My mentor once clearly told me: "Money can corrupt people's hearts. In the line of tomb raiding and archaeology, you must never betray your own back to anyone, and never trust anyone, not even your parents, brothers, sisters, wife and children. Once you start to trust someone and confide in them completely, that is the time for your death."

I believe in the scalpel, but only to a limited extent.

The edited tape mostly featured the fat Japanese man, Toshio Watanabe, speaking. He discussed Japan's current geographical location and economic situation in Asia, suggesting an imminent crisis, similar to the "sinking of Japan." Therefore, he ordered Tanino to open the ancient tomb at all costs, find the "ultimate dartboard," and avert Japan's impending doom.

The term "ultimate dartboard" is just my translation; what Toshio Watanabe meant was something like "marker, signal pile, or air strike marker."

The tape clearly conveyed the following message: Inside the ancient tomb lies a sacred artifact that concerns the rise and fall of the entire Japanese mainland, and for the sake of the future of the Great Japanese Empire, they must obtain it.

What exactly is it that can save or destroy the Japanese mainland?

There is one readily available answer: the atomic bomb. At the end of World War II, the United States tested the power of the atomic bomb, ultimately leading to the Japanese Emperor's surrender. All war textbooks, to varying degrees, mention that what Japan feared most and desired most was a heavy nuclear weapon like the atomic bomb.

I blurted out, "Inside the pyramids—an atomic bomb? A nuclear weapon?"

This information is indeed shocking. How could the oldest history and the most modern weaponry coexist in one place? If there was an atomic bomb inside the Tsarist pyramids, how did the Japanese know? To this day, the pyramids have not been breached, so who placed the atomic bomb there?

One question after another popped into my head, and my head started to ache again. I quickly poured myself a glass of wine, downed half of it, and let the alcohol silently warm my internal organs.

I didn't notice when Su Lun went onto the terrace, but I could smell a strong odor of Western medicine and blood.

She had changed into a loose-fitting white Arabic-style robe, with a brocade silk sash around her waist. Her hair was still wet and hanging down, probably from a bath.

"Are you alright?" The surgeon looked at her with concern and gestured for her to sit in the wicker chair next to him.

The smell of medicine grew stronger, and I asked in alarm, "Suren, are you injured?"

This is the villa's heavily guarded grounds; it's impossible for him to have gotten injured here. Could it have happened before returning to the villa?

Suren smiled faintly, her attitude cold and indifferent: "Yes, it's just a minor injury, nothing serious." The barrier between us was like a frozen cloud in winter, heavy and imposing, impossible to break down or facilitate communication. I'm a man; I should be more magnanimous. Even if she was hiding some information, I should have just laughed it off. But the scalpel's words suddenly plunged me into an ice cave—

“Feng, Suren’s wound was inflicted by a ninja of the ‘Hidden Mist One-Sword Style.’ Can you believe it? You sent her to find the unexpectedly appearing cave entrance to the pillar of light, and she went, only to be ambushed by ninjas. Thank goodness she was able to fight off the powerful enemy and return alive, otherwise… otherwise…”

His eyes flashed with a ferocious, wolf-like glint, the unspoken message being, "I won't let you get away with this." Suren leaned closer to him, their hands clasped tightly, their brotherly affection overflowing. Suren's waist was bulging; I guessed at least four or five rolls of bandages were wrapped around it under her robe.

The Kirigakure Ittō-ryū school is the most ruthless of the Japanese ninja sects, and they never adhere to the traditional "one-on-one duel" samurai code. They excel at group attacks, ambushes, and sneak attacks, making them one of the most despicable assassins in the martial arts world. The fact that Suren was able to repel their attack speaks volumes about his martial arts prowess.

“Suren, I didn’t know… I misunderstood you…”

The search for that hole in the beam of light was my fault, and I must apologize. In an instant, all my previous resentment and dissatisfaction with Suren vanished.

The scalpel clapped its hands, and a servant in white brought in a small projector, turned it on, and an image was immediately projected onto the white wall to the side.

"Here's some new information about the Pyramid of Tsarist Khaganate, please take a look." After the servant left, the scalpel pointed calmly at the white wall. The first thing that appeared in the image was an old Egyptian man with white hair and beard, wearing a magnificent five-colored brocade robe, and around his neck hung four or five black prayer beads.

The elderly man stepped out of a luxury RV and warmly shook hands with the scalpel that came to greet him.

It goes without saying that the old man was the Egyptian spiritual idol, Elder Sahan, a servant of God who was said to be "immortal".

"Actually, I only need to hear the most concise written information; I don't need to read the whole thing, right?" At the moment, time is extremely precious. If we waste an extra hour, who knows how many changes will occur in the desert camp.

The scene fast-forwards, depicting the conversation between the scalpel and Sahan. Their conversation had already been printed out and placed next to the projector; aside from the miraculous incident of being hit by a stray bullet, it didn't seem particularly noteworthy.

“Feng, I feel… is the tiger…” The scalpel took out a cigarette case, turning it over and over in his hand, not in a hurry to express his opinion. I turned to look at him, we smiled at each other, and at the same time slowly uttered the three words “Emperor Gu”.

The scalpel polished the lighter with satisfaction, but didn't light a cigarette, instead focusing intently on the steady, elegant flame of the Zippo. If he also believed that Tiger was under the influence of the Emperor's Gu, then the Tang Clan of Sichuan must have come with hostility, and Tiger was merely a stepping stone for them.

When you walk by the river, you're bound to get your shoes wet. Even a master like Tiger can occasionally stumble. Besides, being defeated by the Tang Clan of Sichuan is nothing to be ashamed of.

“Emperor Gu, Emperor Gu, Emperor Gu…” the scalpel muttered to itself, reaching for a piece of paper and lighting it on the flame. A burnt smell filled the air as the ordinary white printer paper quickly burned and curled up, finally turning to ash between the scalpel's two fingers. He flicked his nails, and the last tiny piece of paper ignited, followed by black ash that drifted down from the air.

The Second Underground Horror

— Chapter 2 - The Illusion Demon —

"Wind, what did you see?" he asked in a deep voice.

A gust of wind blew by, and the smell of burning disappeared completely. What did I see? Nothing but ashes.

He continued talking to himself: "Elder Sahan said that every pyramid contains a phantom demon, large or small, young or old, without exception. The pyramids are the tombs of the pharaohs, and the phantom demons are their loyal servants, forever protecting the pharaohs' spirits. The incantations carved on the stone doors, walls, and sarcophagi were not painted on by humans, but are the masterpieces of the phantom demons..."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the terrace was bathed in a dim, yellowish light. The sound of the scalpel was somber and slow, as if deliberately mimicking the tone of a desert wizard.

Many ancient texts record stories about illusionists, the most typical being the tale of the fisherman and the devil in One Thousand and One Nights. That devil is the illusionist imprisoned in King Solomon's bronze jar, whose size can range from towering mountains to instantly shrinking into a narrow jar as a wisp of smoke; its transformations are endless, and its magical powers are incredibly varied.

Suren sniffed and pulled his robe tighter around himself.

"Anyone who tries to open the Pharaoh's tomb will face the wrath of the Illusion Demon, dying without a burial place and bringing disaster upon their entire family and clan. Therefore, the true subjects who believe in the Pharaoh will never entertain the thought of tomb raiding. Regardless of wealth or status, they will always stay far away from the Illusion Demon's intrusion. And its master, the great Pharaoh, will cast a spell on the Illusion Demon, making it distinguish friend from foe, good from evil, and forbidding it from indiscriminately killing the innocent..."

These sayings are recorded in ancient texts, but I've always thought they were lies told by Egyptian pharaohs to deceive and intimidate their ignorant people. All rulers, in order to consolidate their power, create all sorts of incredibly fantastical legends to show that they are ordained by Heaven to rule the country. Anyone who rebels against them is rebelling against the will of Heaven.

I stood up, ready to leave the terrace and take a shower first. After so many days in the desert, I was filthy.

“Wind, remember these words. Elder Sahan said you must remember them!” Scalpel quickly finished relaying the message, stood up, and put his arm around Suren’s shoulder. The siblings looked at me with hope and expectation, as if I were some kind of hero who would save the world. But I knew I wasn’t.

“Brother Feng, I also want to say—I’m sorry…” Suren’s eyes were filled with tears. Of course, she should understand that I wouldn’t deliberately set a trap for her using the “Hidden Mist One-Sword Style.” As for why those strange ninjas appeared near the camp, she could probably only ask the Japanese man, Tanino.

In the villa's enormous hot spring bath, the thoughts of "Illusion Demon" and "Emperor's Gu" kept swirling in my mind. The scene I witnessed in the underground tunnel was indescribably eerie; if Elder Sahan's theory was correct, it should have been the Illusion Demon guarding the Turkhan Pyramid.

If it's an illusion demon, and everything is an illusion, then what about those innocent people who were swallowed up? Are they just temporarily imprisoned and put on hold? Are they still alive?

Thinking about it this way, I felt relieved. After all, the disappearance of more than forty lives without explanation would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Even a tiger afflicted by a curse needs the help of a master to remove it.