King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 5

"Could it be a hallucination?" I walked to the door, paused for a moment, unzipped the door, lifted the curtain, and went out.

The moon was in the west, and it was a little past four in the morning. The sky would soon be plunged into the darkness before dawn. The air was incredibly cold and carried a faint, pungent mist.

Throughout the camp, the flickering cigarette butts of the lookouts could be seen at any moment. Those were all Gu Ye's men. Although he was extremely greedy, he was also very cautious in his actions. Perhaps this was the key factor that allowed him to remain undefeated in the tomb raiding business?

I lit a cigarette and stood in the shadows cast by the fluorescent light.

This negotiation also involves another huge archaeological mystery: Atlantis.

Regarding the ancient city ruins permanently submerged at the bottom of the sea, Scalpel had mentioned, intentionally or unintentionally, that his subordinates had uncovered some clues. Scalpel's global archaeological foundation had also sponsored over a hundred archaeological expeditions with a total of five hundred million US dollars. This money always guaranteed him firsthand archaeological discoveries.

Tani's appetite was enormous, and his cunning was profound. He not only wanted to take the fat piece of the scalpel from the Tsuchiraku, but also coveted the secrets of Atlantis. The Japanese have never been ambitious; otherwise, they wouldn't have attempted to occupy China and sweep across Asia sixty years ago.

"So, are those photos truly worth sacrificing so much with the scalpel?"

I absolutely do not believe that my elder brother is still alive, and that he is alive in the hands of a stone monster in some secret tomb. Any tomb raider would be an absolute atheist, otherwise how could he dare to walk alone through a terrifying tomb full of dead bones?

"Dong dong dong dong, dong dong, dong dong dong dong, dong dong..." A strange drum sound suddenly rang in my ears.

My hand trembled, and the cigarette nearly fell to the ground. I turned to look due west. To the west, besides the endless yellow sand, the only thing that could be seen was the Turkic Pyramid.

"Good morning, Mr. Feng!" A burly special forces soldier walked over and greeted me expressionlessly, his hand gripping the submachine gun tightly without letting go for a moment.

I swear, the equipment for these special forces soldiers must have come directly from the U.S. military supply department. At the recent Third World countries' military procurement conference, I saw U.S. arms dealers repeatedly recommending this kind of individual equipment to the defense ministers of Gulf countries.

If I remember correctly, this equipment includes the latest image synchronization communicator, a brand-new combat protective suit, and a firearm that can use one long and two short bullets.

I gave a wry smile: "No wonder everyone says that the United States is the real 'King of War'! Without them, the intensity of global warfare would be greatly diminished." Approximately 99.9% of the weapons used by terrorists in various countries are purchased from American arms dealers, or even directly from corrupt military supply depots at low prices.

"Good morning, Turner. Can you hear the drums?" I gestured with my chin to the west.

Turner is the commander of this special forces team. He is white and of unknown nationality, but his English pronunciation has distinct Scandinavian characteristics.

"Drumming?" Turner raised his head, his triangular eyes gleaming with a sharp light, staring unceremoniously at my face, completely ignoring my movements. That gaze was like the cold, piercing eyes of a crocodile lurking in the Nile, making me feel extremely uncomfortable.

The drumming continued, seemingly coming from due west, and I suspect it originated from the direction of the Turkham pyramid.

“No, sir, I only heard the sound of desert scorpions crawling,” Turner replied expressionlessly, swaying his shoulders as he walked past me and continued his patrol.

I froze for a moment, then my face flushed red. Turner's words were undoubtedly a mockery of my baseless accusations. He could hear desert scorpions crawling across the sand, but he had never heard the drumbeats I spoke of.

I scratched my ears hard to quickly clear my head and prevent the auditory hallucinations from driving me crazy. In this vast desert, just like mirages that could appear at any moment, travelers can also experience auditory hallucinations without any reason.

"Good heavens! My body isn't that fragile, is it?" After taking four deep breaths, I took a handkerchief from my pocket, plugged my left ear, and stood on tiptoe, pointing my right ear towards Tu Liehan. This way of listening is one of the greatest inventions of the scalpel.

Standing on tiptoe can help overcome the effects of gravity on bodily fluids to the greatest extent possible; plugging the left ear can effectively prevent echo confusion caused by both ears receiving sound simultaneously.

The drumbeats continued, and with this unique way of listening, they became even clearer, the rhythm consistently four long and two short, monotonous and mysterious.

"It's not a hallucination, but..."

I returned to the tent, took a high-powered military telescope from my backpack, and quickly climbed the lookout ladder.

At that moment, another special forces soldier on the lookout ladder was yawning, looking exhausted. However, upon seeing me hurriedly climbing up, he immediately snapped the safety off his submachine gun, pointing the dark muzzle at me, and simultaneously yelled at me in broken English, "You? Stop!"

I ignored him, climbed to the top of the ladder, and raised my binoculars.

The Pyramid of Turkham appeared clearly in the lens. This was a military telescope with a magnification of 40x; a distance of 500 meters was simply overkill for it. Now, I could clearly see the pyramid's uneven surface, its weathered outer walls covered with pits of all sizes.

As I expected, there was no sign of anyone. In the clearly visible footage, I even caught a juvenile desert viper slowly wriggling behind a clump of bushes, with only half a foot of its tail sticking out.

Volume One: The King of Tomb Raiders

The First Egyptian Tomb

— Chapter 11 — The Summoning of the Crocodile God —

The special forces' submachine gun was already pressed against my back, as if I were facing a formidable enemy.

The camp's defenses were very vigilant. In less than ten seconds, six or seven men had gathered at the foot of the lookout ladder, their submachine guns aimed at me.

The wind was really cold. When I put down the binoculars, I realized that my arms were sore and numb from being so tense, and the back of my shirt was soaked with cold sweat.

"What is it? Feng, what is it?" Gu Ye, wearing a black sheepskin coat, rushed over, his face still sleepy.

I smiled silently and gestured for him to come up. Without hesitation, Gu Ye climbed up and shooed the bewildered special forces soldier back down.

“Drumming, I hear drumming, can you?” I pointed towards the pyramids and handed the binoculars to Tano.

"Drumming? What drumming?" He was an old hand at this, and although he was puzzled, he still took the binoculars and scanned westward. However, he immediately put down the binoculars in annoyance: "Wind, what are you doing? Where is the drumming?" Just then, the drumming stopped, and all he could hear was the sound of the wind.

"I heard a drumbeat, yes, it was an ancient Egyptian crocodile skin drum, four long and two short, that kept ringing—but it's gone now!" Putting myself in Tanino's shoes, I wouldn't believe such absurd claims either. There's no such thing as a drumbeat that only I can hear while everyone else is completely unaware of it.

I opened my mouth as if to explain something to the furious Tanino, but in the end I just shrugged helplessly and gave up.

I didn't get up until after noon. Even though I lay there, my mind was still preoccupied with that strange drumming sound. The earliest drums invented by the ancient Egyptians used the skin of adult crocodiles for the drumhead, and they produced a very strange sound. Because crocodile skin was too thick and hard, it could only produce a dry, hollow "thump-thump" sound without any echo.

I believe I heard correctly; it was indeed the sound of drums.

After a simple lunch, I dialed the number for Scalpel.

"Drumming? Wait, in ancient Egyptian legend, only those destined to be summoned by the crocodile god can hear the drumming." He exclaimed, letting out a terrified gasp on the other end of the phone.

I found it strange; even if they believed me, why were they so horrified?

“Feng, listen, listen—the only information about the drumbeats is recorded in Yang Tian’s tomb raiding diary, and it’s written in a secret script that only he and I can understand. Wait here, I’ll send someone to deliver the information, just wait!” He hung up the phone in a hurry, leaving me even more confused.

Ancient Egyptian legends are filled with countless gods; as far as I know, there are "minoes, snakes, gold-headed gods, cats," and so on—more than the countless celestial deities in Chinese legends. Of course, adding a crocodile god wouldn't be a problem either.

Just as I hung up the phone, Gu Ye and Bancha came in one after the other with grim faces.

“Feng, you seem to know some secret information about the Tu Lie Khan, right? Why don’t you share it with us?” Gu Ye coaxed, trying his best to put on a smile. In his hand, he held a slightly yellowed military map, which looked quite old.

Bancha was more direct and straightforward: "Feng, sell us the information you know, name your price!" He plopped down on my bed, making a strange creaking sound.

Outside, workers were busy at work, the muffled roar of drilling rigs rising from underground. The sky was overcast, and the air felt heavy. It wasn't that I didn't want to cooperate with these two, but I simply didn't have any information worth making public.

I smiled, took out the cigarette case, and handed it to Gu Ye.

Gu Ye's smile finally came together, and he slowly pushed my hand away: "Thank you, I never smoke American cigarettes."

I had a freshly opened pack of Marlboro cigarettes in my hand, the brand I always smoke. Gu Ye was the first person to refuse my offer of a cigarette for this reason, which I found quite amusing.

“We Japanese only smoke Japanese cigarettes.” He took out a pack of white, mild Seven Stars cigarettes from his pocket, a signature product of Japanese cigarettes. From the slow way he lit the cigarette, I could tell that this person had a very complex inner world, was extremely shrewd, and was not easy to deal with.

"Feng, could you repeat the drumbeat you mentioned last night?" Gu Ye exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke, holding the cigarette between his left index and middle fingers with an elegant and meticulous posture.

With the scalpel's answer, I knew last night's events weren't a hallucination. Moreover, anyone who could hear the drumbeats was bound to have some kind of extraordinary encounter. So, I tried to evade the question: "I was a little tired last night; it was probably just a hallucination. Back in Italy, I always had this problem of insomnia from changing beds."

I walked to the bedside, opened my backpack, took out my laptop, and placed it on the table.

Gu Ye glanced at the computer with a sharp eye, his eyes lighting up, probably thinking that the computer might hold many secrets. In fact, the data stored on the hard drive was just a copy of some common archaeological materials on the market, and had nothing mysterious about it.

In the desert, the tabletop is always covered with a layer of dust; this seems to be an eternal and unchanging law.

I picked up a towel and a basin and left the house. I figured that in the next twenty minutes, Tanino and the others would explore every nook and cranny of the laptop. I had deliberately left the laptop with them; perhaps only in this way could I dispel their doubts.

Standing in front of the large water tank storing clean water, my gaze inadvertently fell upon the distant pyramids.

During the day, the Pyramid of Turkham looks unremarkable, indistinguishable from the hundreds of other pyramids of varying sizes scattered across the land. "Where is the drumming coming from?" As far as I know, those crocodile-skin drums can only be found in museums now; almost no one likes that monotonous and eerie sound anymore.

"In the middle of the night, someone is drumming in the desert—near the pyramids under the moonlight. What does it mean? Who is the Crocodile God? Is he summoning some special human? Like me…"

"Hahahaha..." Thinking of the bizarre part, I couldn't help but burst into laughter. As an atheist, I'd rather imagine all the great gods of Egyptian legend as aliens than acknowledge them as omnipotent "gods" above humanity. Not knowing how my brother described this crocodile god in his tomb-raiding diary, I suddenly felt a strong urge to unravel this mystery as soon as possible.

"Come on... come on... come on..."

A heavy, melancholic cry suddenly rang in my ears, echoing hollowly as if it came from a closed, empty room, more terrifying than the mysterious drumbeats.

I cried out "Ah!" and the towel and basin in my hands clattered to the ground. That sound was a mixture of disappointment, hope, anxiety, frustration, confusion, bewilderment, pain, and groans... Only a dozen or so emotions mixed together could produce such a strange and powerful cry.

Subconsciously, I murmured to myself, "Is it calling me? Is it calling me...?"

Without realizing it, my hands were clasped together in front of my chest, my head bowed, facing due west, and I felt an urge to kneel down and worship.

Volume One: The King of Tomb Raiders

The First Egyptian Tomb

— Chapter 12 — Information on the King of Tomb Raiders —

I don't know if it lasted a few seconds or a few minutes, but I heard Tanino shouting loudly, "Wind, Wind—what are you doing?"

I snapped out of my daze. The tap was running, and clear water was gushing out, forming a small stream on the ground. In the desert, no one would dare waste water like that; it would be a crime. I reached out to turn off the tap, only to find my palms were covered in cold sweat.

Gu Ye stood at the tent entrance, shading his eyes with his hand as he looked at me.

I wrung out a wet towel and frantically rubbed my face to clear my groggy head. I swear I heard the sound, the English pronunciation of "Come On," repeating continuously, just like the drumbeats from last night, appearing and disappearing in an instant.

"What exactly exists on that mysterious pyramid?" I looked up and gazed westward once more.

Gu Ye strode over, his face full of suspicion: "Feng, what are you hiding in your heart? Tell me, tell me—" He definitely hadn't slept well last night; his eyes were covered with fine, winding blood vessels. His hysterical shouts filled me with a surge of disgust: "Nothing, nothing at all!"

Back in the tent, Bancha's face was as gloomy as if it were about to rain; he certainly hadn't found the mysterious information he'd imagined on my computer.

“The workers will be working 24/7 from now on, and we can open up the passage into Tu Liehan in three days. Feng, your information is still valuable now, but in three days... hehe, it won't be worth a penny!” Gu Ye followed behind me, continuing his psychological warfare tactics with a meaningful tone.

In this vast, windswept desert, money once again demonstrated its omnipotent power.

I took a breath and slowly exhaled, as if trying to expel all the unpleasantness brought on by Gu Ye. Gu Ye's judgment was correct; he said he could complete the passage in three days, and he definitely could. The crucial question is, even if he reaches the outside of the pyramid, does he have a way to open a path into the pyramid's interior?

I glanced at Gu Ye and said, "I wonder if Mr. Gu Ye will create an even more unprecedented and sensational record in the history of tomb raiding this time?"

"Hahahaha..." Gu Ye laughed heartily, patting his chest. "Of course, there's an old Chinese saying, 'Don't take on a job you're not qualified for.' Feng, I'm thirty years older than you. Thirty years is enough to eat two large granaries of rice. Do I look like a glutton who only eats without thinking?"

The roar of the off-road vehicle's engine simultaneously drew the attention of all three of us, and we all stepped out of the tent one after another.

Suren jumped out of a camouflage Hummer jeep, a large black satchel slung over her shoulder, and waved warmly to me from afar. She was wearing the uniform of an Egyptian military major, her long hair neatly tied up under her military cap. On her feet were standard short combat boots, tightly fastened, impeccably.

Unexpectedly, the surgeon only sent her alone. He thought he wouldn't let his sister take such a risk.

It was clear that Gu Ye and Bancha were not surprised by Suren's appearance, and they greeted her with smiles: "Miss Suren, does Mr. Scalpel have any new information to give us?"

Suren shook his head and patted his bag: "I have the information, but I'll only give it to Mr. Feng. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you two."

After entering the tent, Suren chuckled softly, "Hehe, I'm going to drive that old man Gu Ye crazy!" He casually took off his military cap, let his long hair down, and placed the satchel on the table.

I didn't appreciate her words that deliberately provoked Tanino. In the initial stages of cooperation, we needed the Japanese's help in many areas, and escalating tensions would be detrimental. Out of consideration for her long journey, I didn't show my anger, but simply asked calmly, "Where are the documents?"

"Information?" Suren raised an exaggerated eyebrow. "What information?"

I looked up and met her gaze. I saw her eyes and eyebrows twitching as she winked at me.

Without the slightest hesitation, I understood what she meant. She took my right hand and gently tapped Morse code into my palm: "Beware of eavesdropping."

I nodded, and she continued typing: "My brother said that according to the information of the King of Tomb Raiders, the summons of the Crocodile God is very important, and we must go no matter what. No matter when or where, as long as we hear that call, we will definitely be able to enter the Earth Rift and worship the Crocodile God."

I chuckled silently, a surge of amusement running through me: "Worship? This crocodile god is like an ancient monarch, requiring mortals to worship him? Does he have to imitate ancient etiquette, performing the grand ceremony of three kneelings and nine kowtows?"