King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 75

I gave a soft "Oh," and asked in surprise, "Miss, your ring is very unique. It must be a genuine black silver product from Guatemala, right?"

She raised her index finger, the ring facet contrasting beautifully with the crystal-clear glass and ice cubes, gleaming with a chilling light.

Suddenly, the captain's stern voice came through the cabin intercom: "Passengers, this is an emergency. Please fasten your seatbelts and refrain from moving around the cabin. Due to the reverse warm airflow, the aircraft will experience several vibrations, which is normal during flight. Please do not panic..."

The same warning was repeated four times in English, Japanese, French, and German, triggering yet another torrent of curses from Japanese passengers.

I silently fastened my seatbelt, without the slightest panic. United Airlines is one of the world's top three airlines, and their crew members undergo the same training as those who fly Air Force One, so their skills are beyond question.

Resica smiled humorously: "We're already over the Sea of Japan. God help us, the day of its sinking won't be today."

We spoke very quietly to avoid upsetting our Japanese friends. In recent years, the Japanese public has become extremely sensitive to the topic of "sinking," and any slight speculation or prediction about "earthquakes or tsunamis" can cause a huge uproar in the country.

After fastening her seatbelt, Reese continued to stick out her left index finger, seemingly to show it to me on purpose.

Guatemalan black silver artifacts are known as the "Mount Everest" of silver crafts, meaning they represent the pinnacle of human craftsmanship in using silver to forge jewelry.

The unique colors, high purity, high hardness, and intricate and mysterious carvings of these items are unparalleled. What attracts beauties from all over the world even more is that each piece is said to be unique and will never be repeated by anyone else.

Unfortunately, most people don't know that after black silver jewelry is made, it is always enchanted by chiefs who practice "black magic," especially the kind like the one Resika wears with inlaid amber stones, where the magical effects are extremely potent.

"Miss Resica, what kind of spell is enchanted on your ring?"

I moved to the side, creating some space between my body and hers.

"Black magic" is one of the most revered branches of witchcraft in the world, but most of what is truly passed down in the world are extremely vicious and terrifying "curses". Once they take effect, the fate of both the caster and the victim will be unbearable.

Having just escaped the aftermath of the Tsarist attack in Egypt, I didn't want to cause any more trouble for my otherwise ordinary trip. The reason I refused to fly first class was to travel to Hokkaido as discreetly as possible, allowing my tired body and mind to relax properly.

"Black magic," along with China's "Maoshan magic" and Japan's "Yuanren magic," is known as one of the three major evil cult protective arts and has been blacklisted by international police organizations.

My goodwill towards Reese has plummeted by more than half. I even regret revealing my information to her, even if it was just a short sentence.

"Hmm, you... are afraid of this kind of thing?" Reese kindly extended her right hand, completely covering the ring. Her fingers were long and slender, fair and delicate—definitely the hands of a true artist.

"Scared? No, I just have a slight skin allergy to silver." I yawned, feigning exhaustion, preparing to end the conversation.

A long time ago, the scalpel explained this to me.

The bizarre methods of "black magic" are ten times more insane and bloody than the "spells" and "poisoning" of the Miao region of China.

One vivid example from his exploration experiences is—

Yip Hung-sing, one of Hong Kong's most sought-after business tycoons in the past two decades, is one of the few close friends of The Scalpel.

During his travels in Guatemala, he had a chance encounter with a local Black girl, and their relationship blossomed into a passionate romance. This kind of thing is commonplace in the lives of wealthy men, especially successful men like him—rich, powerful, and physically imposing. After their passionate night together, the tycoon made unrealistic promises to the girl: he would take her back to Hong Kong to make movies, to compete for Miss World, and ultimately pave the way for her to break into Hollywood's top film industry…

The tycoon's promises were rarely fulfilled. For example, many female celebrities from Guangdong, Hong Kong and Macao who had slept with him heard promises that were like bright moons in the sky, but the actual benefits they received were much smaller than mooncakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Making empty promises is commonplace for tycoons, but the foreign girl took it seriously. She used all her charms to make the tycoon feel like he was in a spring breeze for a whole week, and when they broke up, she tied her black and silver amulet to the tycoon's wrist.

The tycoon, unaware of the amulet's power, carelessly tossed it away on the chartered flight back to Hong Kong, and the result...

“Mr. Feng, actually, this thing is just a keepsake left to me by my mother. I wear it not for any other reason than to remember her. Now, she rests in peace in Cemetery No. 13 in New York City. If it makes you uncomfortable in any way, I… I'm sorry…”

Resica lowered her head, a few strands of soft blonde hair falling from her forehead, obscuring half of her face, making her look pitiful.

Most American girls are outgoing and extroverted, with no shyness or reserve whatsoever—Reese was different. Although it was our first meeting, she impressed me as intelligent, gentle, and introverted.

A teardrop landed on the back of her hand with a soft thud, scattering everywhere.

I hurriedly explained, embarrassed: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's not what you think. I'm an atheist, I don't care about those nonsensical myths and legends at all... It's just an allergy, just an allergy..."

The Chinese value filial piety above all virtues. If my indifference hurt her and reminded her of her deceased mother, then it was certainly my fault.

My voice was a bit loud, immediately drawing arrogant and hostile glares from several young Japanese people around me. Ignoring the flight attendant's curious gaze, I took a tissue from my pocket and handed it to Reese.

An ancient Chinese person once concluded that even if a person who is extremely filial to their parents commits evil deeds, they will not be truly evil.

Besides, Resica and I only met by chance. Even if her black and silver ring was cursed with "dark magic," how could it harm me for no reason?

Reese took the tissue, took off her ring, and put it in her suit's inner pocket.

I've flown over a hundred times, all on United Airlines Boeing planes, but I've never had such a terrible experience before. When Reese raised her hand to wipe her tears, the plane shook four times in succession, and the red warning light at the front of the cabin flashed piercingly—

The Japanese, who had just been complaining and grumbling, were suddenly terrified by the warning lights. They screamed and curled up deep in the sofa. Several young men with colorful afros were hysterically yelling, "Give me a parachute...give me a parachute...I want to parachute..."

At an altitude of tens of thousands of meters, skydiving at this point is tantamount to suicide. I can only respond to the shallowness of these young people with a cold laugh.

"Passengers, I have received notification from the ground control tower that the reverse warm current is caused by a series of underwater volcanic eruptions off the coast of Hokkaido, which have also triggered micro-tremors on the continental shelf. The sea conditions have now calmed down, and we will be able to land safely in fifteen minutes. Please do not panic."

The captain's calm voice somewhat quelled the passengers' agitation.

Before I knew it, Reese's left hand had grabbed my sleeve. Forgetting to wipe her tears, she pressed her body against the seat, like a beautiful frightened deer.

"Don't worry, don't worry, it'll be alright, everything will be alright." She clung to me so helplessly. In that critical moment, I had long forgotten about taboos such as "black silver and black magic spells." I gently patted the back of her hand and whispered words of comfort.

In fact, a review of current affairs records reveals that in the decade following 1995, the narrow coastal areas of mainland China, Japan and South Korea, and the Taiwan Strait have been continuously affected by natural disasters of varying strengths, including earthquakes, tsunamis, and tornadoes.

Especially in Japan, earthquakes have become commonplace, occurring once or twice a year. Initially, the Japanese people would accept government guidance and participate in earthquake drills. However, they have become indifferent and numb to the collapse of buildings and casualties caused by earthquakes, as if they can only silently endure the violence inflicted by heaven since they cannot resist it.

Reese's hands were cool to the touch, and her skin was smooth, a stark contrast to the tall, hairy American girls. In particular, she carried a faint scent of Thai sandalwood, a sweet yet slightly bittersweet fragrance that I loved most during my travels through Thailand.

“It’s nothing, just a little tremor. You know, United Airlines captains are among the best in the global aviation industry. Their ability to handle emergencies has been commended countless times by official proclamations signed by the President of the United States…” I gently patted the back of her hand, inhaling the sandalwood scent with each breath.

Reese let out a long sigh of relief, feeling slightly more relaxed.

The shaking of the plane had subsided, and it descended to a lower altitude, emerging from the thick clouds.

Looking out the porthole, the azure sea and the general outline of the Japanese archipelago are already visible. In recent years, Japan's tourism industry has developed rapidly, and more than forty small-scale underwater resorts have been newly developed around the coast of Hokkaido. The locations have been cleverly and consciously planned, and when viewed from mid-air, they truly resemble a blooming chrysanthemum.

Chrysanthemums and samurai swords are quintessential elements of Japanese culture. As a result, many Asian tourism experts have predicted that the next aerial view of Japan's islands will resemble a long, narrow samurai sword, and the direction the sword's tip points will undoubtedly carry the implication of "drawing swords against each other."

The crisis has passed, but the complaints of the Japanese passengers have returned to the cabin. It seems that United Airlines will not be able to quell the resentment of these historically stingy Japanese unless they give each passenger two bottles of fine whiskey.

Reese smiled and whispered to me, "Well, this is the trip I've heard the most complaints about. But, I'll bear with it all in order to be able to interview people in the holy land of Japanese culture! I haven't asked yet, do you watch our program... or do you have any suggestions for our program?"

At this moment, she held a palm-sized notebook in her hand, a pencil in her left, looking every bit the dedicated professional journalist. The notebook's cover bore the exclusive logo of *Discovery* magazine.

I smiled and nodded: "Of course, your TV programs are my favorite, especially the dozen or so episodes about Egyptian culture and the pyramids, which I have studied thoroughly." I am not a boastful person, so of course I would not say that I just came out of the desert, much less tell everyone about the mysterious pyramids of Turksham.

The pyramids, Tina, and the Egyptian government's dream of unifying the African continent are deeply etched in my mind and I will never forget them.

Reese became increasingly excited, tapping the cover of her notebook repeatedly with her pencil: "Really? That's great! One of the issues is a live report on the excavation of the Valley of the Kings in Egypt, and I've been in charge of the copywriting..."

Next, she revealed the destination of her trip—Fongkol Temple and the "Well of Spirits," a magical well said to reflect the fate of those who pray to it.

"The Japan Tourism Agency has formally submitted an application to UNESCO requesting that the 'Well of Spirits' be included in the World's 500 Greatest Ancient Cultural Sites. Our US headquarters hopes to produce a detailed report on Maple Forest Temple, the Tower of the Dead, and the Well of Spirits, as a grand finale for 2005. Mr. Feng, would you be interested in being our guest speaker at the event…?"

When the topic turned to her work, Resica immediately became very talkative, gradually settling into her role. She had already accumulated a wealth of data on that seven-story, thirty-five-meter-high ancient building.

I'm going to the chain of tourist resorts located in Kiwanzan, a privately owned property with forty-one villas surrounding the mountain. This is the most valuable of the four properties owned by Scalpel in Japan, forming a huge ring around the foot of Kiwanzan, perfectly encircling Fuuki-ji Temple.

Volume Two: The Tower of the Dead

The first book, The Mysterious Villa

— Chapter 2 — Xiao Keleng —

As the plane descended, we could clearly see the towering white waves off the coast of Hokkaido. It's a famous winter tourist attraction in Japan, drawing a considerable number of backpackers from around the world even in the depths of winter.

When it comes to "ancient cultural sites," no country in the entire Asian region can compare with mainland China.

In the two Chinese cities of Suzhou and Hangzhou alone, there are more than thirty such ancient wells that can reflect human thoughts. For example, there is the "Ji Gong Carrying Wood Well" in Hangzhou and the "Child-Giving Goddess Well" in Suzhou. Of course, these are just beautiful legends. No one can guarantee whether they have the magical effects described in myths.

I smiled and politely declined, saying, "Let's talk about it when we have time. I have a lot of business to take care of, so I might not be able to attend."

As a Chinese person, I would definitely have some psychological barriers to doing volunteer promotion for the Japan Tourism Agency.

Reese paused slightly, already understanding what I meant. She quickly pulled a copy of the day's Asahi Shimbun from the magazine box and swiftly underlined the headline on page two with a pencil: "Reject me? Because of this?"

Asahi Shimbun is the most influential and widely circulated newspaper in Japan. When Scalpel was in Cairo, there was a special reading room in his villa dedicated to storing the original newspaper, which he said he had been collecting for nearly thirteen years without interruption.

I am not interested in Japanese culture, so I rarely read Japanese newspapers.

The headline read: "Chinese mainland lawyers file another appeal with the Japanese High Court regarding the 'comfort women issue during World War II'."

The last of the four pictures accompanying the news report shows a tall, slender Chinese man in a sharp suit, wearing glasses and not yet thirty years old, raising his hands as if making a court statement.

Reese was quick-witted. Noticing my gaze lingering on the man's face, she immediately glanced at the news and asked me, "Mr. Feng knows this person—oh, it's Mr. Sun Long, the best expert on Sino-Japanese legal issues in mainland China in the last five years, and the leader of the mainland lawyers' delegation this time..."

As a scriptwriter for a multinational television program, she was naturally aware of the historical issues between China and Japan, and thus easily understood the underlying meaning of my politely declining the guest invitation. This small incident revealed her keen insight and empathy.

The comfort women issue has been a trigger for anti-Japanese sentiment in mainland China for several years, and the slow progress of transnational compensation cases has caused the Japanese government's reputation and standing to continue to decline in the eyes of people around the world. At this time, whether for public or private reasons, I certainly would not agree to be a guest on the "Discovery" program, lest I be regarded as a shameless "pro-Japanese" by patriots.

I had a brief encounter with Sun Long, but that was a private matter and not something I could discuss with outsiders. So, I subtly shifted my gaze downwards, easily concealing my true feelings: "No, I don't know him. I'm looking at this news item—'Chinese Special Abilities Team Visits Hokkaido for Sino-Japanese Cultural Exchange'..."

Reese smiled and put the newspaper away.

Just then, the plane began to dive, making its final preparations for landing.

A chance encounter on a plane is just a fleeting ripple in the journey, soon to be forgotten—even if Resica is such a kind and beautiful girl.

After exiting the security gate, a sign in Chinese that read "Wind, Cairo" immediately caught my eye. Holding the sign was a girl with slightly dark skin, wearing a snow-white Nike baseball uniform, a Nike baseball cap, and Nike sneakers.

Her eyes were bright and sharp; she spotted me directly in the crowd and started waving: "Mr. Feng, over here, over here—" Then, she skipped over and reached out to take the briefcase from my hand.

My briefcase was small and light, and since I'm used to traveling alone, I didn't bring any large luggage, so whether or not I was picked up at the airport was really irrelevant.

"I'm Xiao Keleng, nice to meet you." The girl smiled and took off her baseball cap, bowing in a mock manner. Her short, shiny black hair bounced around, radiating endless youthful energy. She was even younger than Su Lun, her face beaming with youthful joy. If it weren't for the two pimples that had just appeared in the hollow of her nose, she would have looked exactly like a beautiful and trendy girl from an idol drama.

"Goodbye, Mr. Feng, until we meet again!" Reese, carrying her simple luggage, politely said goodbye to me as she passed by, and also nodded to Xiao Keleng in a good-natured manner.

I had no intention of accepting this "romantic encounter," so I casually returned Resica's greeting and we passed each other.

Xiao Ke's large, bright eyes darted around, glancing at Reese's dignified and graceful back. She raised her dark eyebrows and said, "Mr. Feng, is that blonde beauty your friend? Why don't we walk together and give her a ride?" As she spoke, one of her legs swung restlessly, as if it were about to start dancing to the music at any moment.

I knew I was going the same way as Reese, and since no one was picking her up from the airport, this was definitely a good opportunity to get close to her.

"How about it? Should I go after her and invite her?" Xiao Ke was eager to try, tossing his baseball cap around, which attracted a few Japanese hippie youths who had just walked out of the security gate to whistle mischievously.

I frowned: "No need. We just bumped into each other on the plane, we're not friends at all. Can we go now?"

Xiao Keleng is an employee of Scalpel, and also Su Lun's good friend and sister. For the past two years, she has been stationed in Japan, responsible for managing the operation of four properties under Scalpel.

Su Lun spoke highly of Xiao Keleng, and once solemnly told me, "Although Xiao is only twenty years old, she is undoubtedly a genius at doing business with the Japanese. In just one and a half years, she has earned four bachelor's degrees in business, and her future is limitless. Therefore, you can confidently entrust her with the management of business affairs in Japan. I believe she can make your trip to Hokkaido very easy and enjoyable."

I had assumed that such a business genius would be a mature, steady, low-key, and prematurely aged woman. But after meeting her, I realized she's like a mischievous college graduate, completely unlike my expectations.

As they exited the airport terminal, Xiao Keleng pointed to a bright red Honda two-seater sports car, his face beaming with a hearty smile: "Mr. Feng, this is mine—no, it's our car. You're free to use it while we're in Hokkaido—would you like to give it a try?"

The sports car's fiery red paint gleamed almost blindingly in the sunlight, so I politely declined and quickly opened the passenger door. The long flight hadn't left me feeling too tired; on the contrary, it was the newspaper Reese had casually picked up that truly jolted me awake.

I know Sun Long, and I know one of his huge secrets—a massive and complex plan with a shocking official name: "The Sinking of Japan." The Flying Dragon Seal is the private emblem passed down through generations of Sun Long's family.

I remember the first time I heard Sun Long talk about this plan was on the picturesque canals of Venice, Italy, sitting in one of those unique gondolas. He calmly described the grand plan while sipping a rich Italian cappuccino, like a professional writer pitching me the outline of his latest popular novel.

Three years have passed, but I still clearly remember every word he said on that sunny afternoon in the water town—