King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 9

The special forces soldiers quickly cleaned up the scene and dismantled the grass-green tent.

In this desolate desert devoid of laws and judges, the dead are buried on the spot, without the need for cumbersome administrative procedures such as investigation or autopsy. Bystanders, unfazed, simply walk away. This large group gathers and disperses for wealth, caring nothing more.

I turned my gaze back and calmly looked at Tanino.

He chuckled dryly, "What? Not welcome?"

To be honest, I don't really welcome the scheming Gu Ye. He's too cunning, and I'm afraid that I'm too naive and could be easily manipulated by him.

"Of course you're welcome, Mr. Gu Ye, please come in!" Suren greeted the guest on my behalf, emerging from the tent. I could only turn slightly to the side and say, with some difficulty, "Please come in!"

Suren brewed coffee a second time. Gu Ye hesitated, only managing a dry laugh, clearly weighing which points to make and which to keep. I gulped down my coffee dismissively, adding only half a sugar cube. It tasted slightly bitter, but it helped me stay awake.

Gu Ye finally spoke: "Turner... kept calling out 'Great God Tu Liehan, forgive me' when he shot and killed people. Especially in the last moment before he swallowed the gun, at least a dozen people at the tent entrance heard him praying to the sky calmly and devoutly, saying the same words."

I chuckled, offering no comment.

An awkward silence fell over the tent, with only the aroma of hot coffee wafting through the air.

Gu Ye gulped down several mouthfuls of coffee, then suddenly looked up: "What I said, aren't you two interested?" The wrinkles on his forehead folded into more than a dozen horizontal lines, densely packed, like terraced fields cultivated by mountain people for generations, which were very visually appealing.

I didn't say anything, just shook the paper cup in my hand.

Suren and I maintained our tacit cooperation and silence. The best way to get an old fox like Gu Ye to reveal his true feelings was to remain silent and keep him guessing about our intentions.

“Since you’re not interested, I’ll go directly to Mr. Scalpel. He’ll definitely…”

Suren politely interrupted him: "Mr. Gu Ye, my brother has entrusted all matters related to the excavation of the Tuli Khan Pyramid to Mr. Feng. He will only listen to Mr. Feng's reports. Therefore, it would be best if everyone refrained from disturbing him, would you?"

Dejected, Gu Ye stared at me like a trapped beast, his breathing growing louder and louder.

I asked casually, "I know some of the details about what's happening down there, but I want to know everything that happened. I'm sure Mr. Tanino would be willing to satisfy my curiosity?" A single strange stone tablet isn't enough to explain the oddity of the Turkic Pyramid; I hope to find more evidence from Tanino.

Volume One: The King of Tomb Raiders

The First Egyptian Tomb

— Chapter 21 - The Visitor Arrives at Dawn —

The tent fell silent abruptly, save for the sound of Gu Ye breathing heavily. This seasoned figure in the world of tomb raiding, who had traveled far and wide and weathered many storms, was now acting like an excited, naive young man.

"You really want to know? You really want to know?" he asked excitedly, his eyes wide open.

I shrugged and pressed a key on my laptop keyboard, displaying a simplified diagram of the tunnel on the screen. According to the dimensions, the outer shell of the Turkic Pyramid was another 170 meters ahead from the monument. Meanwhile, geological data indicated that the tunnel's location was simply ordinary sand; it was impossible for such large boulders to exist there.

Suren remained calm, picked up the kettle and refilled everyone's paper cups with coffee, saying indifferently, "If Mr. Gu Ye wants to keep his secrets to himself, then forget it. We have hands and feet, and we'll go down into the tunnel to take a look. It's better than others rushing around and relying on hearsay."

Tano suddenly stood up, accidentally knocking over a paper cup. Brown coffee spilled all over the table and flowed down the edge of the table to the floor.

Instead of apologizing for his outburst, he jumped up and threw out a vicious remark: "There's a monster in the tunnel, are you satisfied now?" Then, he strode out of the tent.

I noticed that when Gu Ye passed by Su Lun, Su Lun casually flicked his fingernail, sending a bean-sized object tucked under his collar.

The tent finally quieted down. Suren pulled out a tissue to wipe the table, while I flipped through the documents on my laptop, hoping to find the origin of the stone tablet from the thick geological data.

The desert nights are long, and this small bed with only one sleeping bag is definitely not enough for the two of us. Judging from Gu Ye's attitude, he doesn't seem to have any strong desire for Su Lun to stay overnight, and of course, he won't provide a second tent.

“Actually, I’m not sleepy at all tonight. You can use my sleeping bag—” Suren was a little tired, and I saw her secretly covering her mouth and yawning.

She smiled with the corners of her mouth up: "Well... then I'm sorry..." Then, she quickly took off her boots and crawled into her sleeping bag.

I continued searching for information, but my eyes were glued to the back of Suren, who was lying on her side. In this situation, I couldn't possibly have any interest in romantic affairs between men and women; what I was paying attention to was her quietly putting an invisible earplug into her ear.

As I expected, what she just flicked at Gu Ye was a miniature listening device, and her feigned sleep was to concentrate on eavesdropping.

From the northeast of the camp came the whirring sound of a helicopter rotor. I checked my watch; it was already three in the morning. Who would come in the middle of the night?

Suren's back remained motionless, her breathing unusually steady.

I couldn't directly expose her, since everyone had their own stance in this covert battle, and it was likely a superficial cooperation.

Inside the camp, the sounds of special forces soldiers in combat boots running quickly filled the air, and the beams of powerful flashlights swept across the area, but there was no loud noise or unusual activity. So, were these guests of Gu Ye? Or were they helpers he had invited?

I stood up, paced back and forth a few times, and then simply lifted the curtain and went outside, standing in a dark corner.

After the helicopter landed, the noise level decreased.

Tanino stood at the cabin door, head bowed respectfully, maintaining the slight bowing posture of a Japanese man. The first to jump out of the cabin were two fully armed guards in black, pointing their dark submachine guns warily into the camp; they were also dressed as Egyptian soldiers.

Behind them, a slightly protruding, over-40-year-old fat man, dressed in a neat navy blue suit and with his hair combed meticulously, slowly walked out. He glanced at the respectfully standing Gu Ye before landing arrogantly and saying something.

They were too far away to hear their conversation, but judging from their appearance, the fat man was definitely Japanese, and a high-ranking political figure with a bloated and bloated personality.

Behind the fat man, a girl wearing a white tight-fitting sportswear and a white baseball cap nimbly jumped out. Her ponytail hung down to her waist, and she looked young, beautiful and full of energy.

Unable to ascertain the group's origins, I decided to venture into the darkness, weaving through the tents still lit. To be honest, I was still completely clueless about the situation inside the tunnel. However, with Turner dead, at least I could find someone else: the camp leader, Yelan.

The desert environment is harsh, and someone like Yelan wouldn't work there year after year if it weren't for the generous pay. Based on this, I'm confident I can get the information I need from Yelan.

Yelan's tent was slightly larger than the usual workers' quarters, as it also served as the camp office and archives. A dim light shone inside the tent, and through a gap in the curtain, two people were kneeling opposite each other, heads bowed and hands clasped, seemingly performing some kind of religious ceremony.

I paused for a moment, and when the two finished praying and stood up at the same time, I quickly lifted the curtain and went inside.

Yelan wasn't surprised to see me. He gave me a blank, bitter smile, glanced at me, and then looked at the person opposite him. The person was wearing filthy worker's clothes, with a head of white hair that was tangled up in messy curls, and was terribly dirty from head to toe.

"Dragon, how can I escape this calamity? Please, Your Majesty, guide and enlighten me..."

The man called "Dragon" frowned, his eyes narrowed into slits, and he kept muttering some kind of incantation. After a full half minute, he suddenly clapped his hands together: "The great true God has given a clear instruction: leave the desert and never return. What you are about to do could destroy the peace and tranquility of the desert at any time. The true God teaches us not to harm others, not to covet others' treasures. If you cannot do this, you will ultimately pay with your life—wake up..." Dragon slowly straightened his arms and pressed them on Yeran's head, gently stroking them and drawing circles.

On the carpet beneath my feet was a dark wooden bowl filled with soil, with three equally black incense sticks stuck in it, wisps of smoke rising from it.

“Forget those terrible things. God is everywhere, and God will protect His children.” The dragon’s voice was hoarse and raspy, his English pronunciation extremely unclear, with a strong trace of some kind of regional dialect. His hands had only six fingers in total, and the thumb and index finger of each hand had been chopped off at the root.

The dragon didn't look at me. After saying these words, it bent down, picked up the wooden bowl from the ground, and reverently circled Yeram three times. Then it raised it high above its head and walked out of the tent.

Yelan let out a long sigh, slumped wearily onto the edge of the single bed, and gestured to the chair in front of his desk: "Please sit." His face was a strange, ashen white, like—like a frozen corpse in a hospital morgue. Actually, my first impression of him was that of a typical desert man—open-minded, calm, cautious, and prudent, someone who would never be scared out of his wits by a trivial matter.

“I know what you’re going to ask, but I’ve sworn before the true God that I will never tell you.” He cut to the chase, blocking my way before I could even speak.

Volume One: The King of Tomb Raiders

The First Egyptian Tomb

— Chapter 22 - The Monster in the Well —

The Egyptians believed in a wide variety of gods, some quite strange and unusual. Moreover, those who believed in a particular god were devoted to him with utmost sincerity, and would tell the gods any secrets in their hearts in order to gain liberation.

I tried to make my smile look natural: "Mr. Yelan, I just thought you might need some help, so I came to visit you. You should know that this project was originally hired by Mr. Scalpel to manage, and although it changed hands midway, you still owe Mr. Scalpel some kind of explanation, right?"

Yelan's eyebrows twitched violently, and his lips trembled incessantly, as if he were gritting his teeth to endure his pain. Inside the tent, blueprints, protective gear, and other drilling necessities were piled everywhere. On the wall directly opposite, there was an imagined cross-section of the Turkic pyramid. On the drawing, numerous tiny technical symbols were hastily marked in red and blue pencil, densely packed, almost covering both sides of the successfully excavated vertical shaft.

I've reviewed Yelan's information: he graduated from the Drilling Department of the National University of Egypt, holds a self-taught master's degree in desert geology, and has over fifteen years of practical experience in desert drilling. Previously, he successfully located more than forty oil and water wells in the Egyptian desert for an American company.

Without a doubt, he was a top performer in desert work, possessing the unwavering resilience of an Egyptian camel. Such a person wouldn't be easily frightened by strange occurrences; what on earth was going on today?

“I know… Mr. Scalpel is a big shot and he gave me a lot of money… but I have sworn an oath before the true God…” Despair shone in his dark eyes as he gripped his kneecaps tightly with both hands, twisting and turning incessantly.

“Everyone needs to have faith, you’re right, but if something so terrible happened down in the mine, forty-one lives—if you’re truly righteous, you should tell the truth and rescue the workers in distress, right?”

I tentatively steered the conversation toward the missing workers, but Yelan suddenly screamed, "Rescue? How can we rescue them? They... they've already been swallowed by the monster. They're probably melted and rotten by now. How can we rescue them?"

He jumped up suddenly, reached out and grabbed a double-barreled shotgun from the wall next to the table, and with practiced ease pulled back the bolt with a click, gripped the handle tightly, and pointed it at the tent entrance.

I paused, because Gu Ye had also mentioned the word "monster." Could it be that there really was something underground—I suddenly laughed. This is the scientific world of the 21st century, not an era of ancient and absurd mythical beasts. Among the nearly 100,000 species of animals known to scientists, there is no such thing as a "monster."

"Calm down, friend. I think you're just overly stressed and hallucinating. Calm down!"

On the table was an open bottle of Egyptian liquor, next to which was a half-empty bowl. I filled the bowl and handed it to Yeran. He gritted his teeth, took the bowl, and gulped down several mouthfuls, his face flushed with the alcohol.

I took the gun from his hand and quietly unloaded the bullets. This German-made hunting rifle had a long range and powerful shot, capable of easily killing an adult camel. It was definitely not a pleasant sight to see in the hands of a madman.

"Tell me about that monster, Mr. Yelan. If your information is useful, I can pay you five hundred dollars." I pretended to be nonchalant, still not believing the talk about the "monster".

The tent instantly filled with the pungent smell of alcohol, which also made Yelan's eyes bloodshot: "The monster swallowed the workers. We watched helplessly as its tongue, bright red like the red carpet the president laid out in front of Congress on Independence Day, rolled up and the workers disappeared..."

Yelan muttered to himself as he quickly poured the entire bowl of wine down his throat.

I sighed helplessly. In this state, Yelan was incapable of saying anything new. He kept insisting that some unspeakable monster lurked underground and had devoured the forty-one workers.

A series of hurried footsteps approached, and someone outside the tent asked, "Mr. Yelan, Dr. Tanino requests your presence."

Yelan, drunk, asked, "What is it? What does he want?"

The man peeked out from under the curtain; he was a special forces soldier with a rifle across his chest. He glanced at me and continued, "A very important person from Japan has arrived. He is very interested in you, sir. Please come over for a chat."

I thought of the fat man who got off the helicopter, and that pure and lively girl in white. Who could they be? Besides, what important business could a high-ranking official from mainland Japan have in this remote and impoverished desert? As we all know, the Japanese are known for their "no action without a reason" mentality; they won't bother with anything that doesn't benefit them.

For a moment, some clues seemed to be triggered in my mind, but they were vague and couldn't be connected.

Yelan stood up, swaying and grinning foolishly, and slowly followed the special forces soldier away, heading towards the huge, luxurious tent in the valley.

I stepped out of the tent and slapped my forehead hard: "What are we going to do? A monster has appeared, and the excavation of the Turkic Pyramid has been suspended. Sigh, the longer we delay, the more things might go wrong! Who knows what else might happen if we delay any longer!"

According to the original plan for the excavation of the scalpel, everything was done under the special care of the Egyptian government, using the pretext of drilling an oil well to secretly enter the tower. The amount of bribes he had given to the Egyptian presidential palace for this plan had reached an astonishing astronomical figure. However, the excavation work of Tanino's team went awry right from the start, and openly inviting high-ranking Japanese officials to visit was a far cry from the original secret excavation plan for the scalpel.

"Snap," someone was striking a lighter in the darkness to light a cigarette.

I turned my head and recognized "Dragon's" wrinkled face in half a second. He was crouching in the shadows on the side of the tent, smoking greedily, like a lowly groundhog that comes out at night.

A thought suddenly struck me: "Given what just happened, the dragon must be a medium for the true God of the religion. That's why Yeran prayed to him so sincerely. Does that mean Yeran told him all the secrets in his heart?" Now that's great, I can get all of Yeran's secrets out of the dragon.

I felt in my pocket, took out a hundred-dollar bill and held it in my hand. I slowly walked up to the dragon and coughed softly.

Long looked up at me, then continued smoking.

"Friend, I have a hundred-dollar bill in my hand, do you want it?" I clenched my fist, and the brand-new banknote made a crackling sound.

Money is the best bait, and everyone will respond to it. Long was no exception: "Yes, yes, of course I want it. What do you need, sir?" He put down the cigarette in his hand, hurriedly fastened the buttons on his work clothes, and then straightened his chest to make himself look more presentable.

Volume One: The King of Tomb Raiders

The First Egyptian Tomb

— Chapter 23 — Jeram's Prayer —

“Now, all you have to do is tell me what Yelan just said to you, and this banknote is yours.” I slowly unfolded the banknote. One hundred dollars, enough for poor workers like them to go crazy in Cairo’s red-light district for a week.

The dragon blinked rapidly with its cloudy eyes, staring greedily at the money. Its face was dark and rough, with features clearly showing the characteristics of an Egyptian native.

"Okay, give me the money first, and I'll talk!" He swallowed greedily, making a gurgling sound in his throat. It was very quiet all around; it seemed that all the sentries had gathered around Gu Ye's tent, probably to strengthen the security for the important figure.

I tugged at Long's sleeve, signaling him to crouch down and hide completely in the shadows, and handed him the money.

Long swallowed hard again: "Yelan said there was a monster in the underground tunnel. The workers were digging forward when suddenly the mud and sand in front of them collapsed on their own, revealing another entrance. The entrance was covered with a blood-red carpet. The workers were very curious, and some thought they had unearthed the treasure of the Egyptian king. They shouted excitedly and ran forward, all of them entering the cave, and then..."

In the myths and legends passed down through generations in the desert, almost every story involves the plot of "desert treasure." The treasures plundered by the ancient Egyptian kings were buried under the yellow sand of the desert without any obvious markings. Therefore, what appears to be an ordinary desert must contain thousands upon thousands of gold and silver treasures.

In short, the poor all over the world have the same mentality: they all want to get something for nothing and be hit by gold falling from the sky.