Le roi des pilleurs de tombes

Chapitre 28

7

The day has finally arrived.

The unchanging living room furnishings only made it more old, more desolate, and less in line with the outside world.

Time has solidified in this house, even the sunlight filtering through the frosted glass windows has been worn and distorted by the years.

While eating an apple, Qunzhi looked at the three backpackers who had been waiting in the living room.

Two hours ago, more than twenty people lined up to set off. The crowd was huge, including backpackers of all ages, races and nationalities. They were clearly influenced by the rumor that "the saintess is about to go through menopause." The "adventurers" from all over the world packed the living room to capacity.

One by one they entered the room, and one by one they disappeared.

The last three backpackers, eager to get started, were all young, and none of their faces were familiar. Thinking about it, the familiar faces I'd seen in the past few years hadn't appeared. They must be dead, of course, in all sorts of ways—no need to imagine.

Even though humanity has expanded its reach and advanced the technology of wilderness survival equipment over the past two decades, the highly uncertain act of "setting off" remains extremely dangerous compared to these advancements in equipment technology.

For example, a rumor is circulating among a dwindling number of backpackers: in recent years, "saints" have been teleporting backpackers directly to great heights and airdropping them, resulting in an increasing number of backpackers dying instantly. There are bizarre news reports of these "high-altitude suicides" all over the world as evidence, so two of the three backpackers seeking a launch today are carrying the latest invention: jet parachutes.

The sounds of intercourse in the bedroom stopped.

“My turn.” A young man who looked no older than twenty-five stood up, smiling self-encouragingly: “I hope to head to a very dangerous place; even if I die, it will be worth it.”

Two backpackers behind him gave him a thumbs-up in blessing.

Qunzhi watched him walk into the bedroom and thought: Then let him die.

People who are determined to die will not be blessed with "luck".

Qunzhi has always been lucky because of his fervent will to survive; he has always dreamed of this day.

Qunzhi looked at his perfectly intact left hand fingers, touched his right ear which had lost 80% of its hearing, and reminisced about his left kidney, which he had used to trade for a living resource on the Mexican black market. A fighting spirit welled up within him.

The “future” has quietly changed.

Although cause and effect are cyclical, with cause becoming effect and effect becoming cause, and the cause and effect mutually reinforcing each other, it is difficult to determine which came first and which came last. However, the older Lin Qunzhi back then was definitely the "first" Lin Qunzhi to travel to the Arctic across twenty-two years. This is because when the two met in the Arctic in a peculiar way, the older Lin Qunzhi also seemed very surprised. Obviously, when he traveled to the Arctic in his youth, he did not have this memory of meeting the time traveler.

But he has.

This version of Lin Qunzhi exists.

If he were to travel back to the Arctic twenty-two years ago "again," he would retain his current memories, as well as the memories of his encounter with the previous version of Lin Qunzhi twenty-two years ago. Therefore, he could definitely avoid that terrifying, massive ice crevasse.

But so what?

Having avoided that ice crevice, he knew that other calamities awaited him.

Perhaps it was just a simple accident.

Perhaps it was the invisible force of fate that was fighting against him, forcing him to be unable to change anything.

The sounds of intercourse in the bedroom stopped again.

The second backpacker stood up, chewing bubble gum, and said with a grin, "Ha! Maybe I'm just going to Omotesando in Tokyo for a stroll? I'm off!" He even jokingly pulled out his penis and waved it at the two of them.

That's really optimistic.

Looking at the man's swaying, hip-hop style, Qunzhi thought to himself: Nothing is more deadly than optimism.

In a group skydiving event, the greatest courage is required to be either the first to jump or the last. Especially the last skydiver, facing an empty cabin...

In the living room, the only remaining backpacker kept rubbing his hands together, his unease and hesitation written all over his face.

This is the expression that indicates someone can survive.

But, the so-called survival...

"sorry."

The man suddenly stood up, opened the living room door without looking back, and quickly left downstairs.

Yes, there are two kinds of survival.

One type is filled with fear of nature, determined to survive even at the cost of one's life. This can be described as a kind of piety.

One option is escapism, simply getting away from all threats. This is absolutely the ideal form of survival, just like the backpacker we just saw – a perfect 100.

However, the "survival" that Qunzhi (a group of experts) envisions does not fall into either of the two categories mentioned above.

The sounds of intercourse in the bedroom stopped.

Apart from the group of wits, the living room is now empty. And it seems unlikely that anyone will be there in the future.

The group of intelligent beings, carrying miniature jet parachutes, entered the bedroom.

With graying temples, he sat on the edge of the bed, gently tidying the goddess's messy hair.

Although the high-class prostitute in the bed had aged, her flesh as loose as her makeup, to Qunzhi, the goddess was more beautiful than ever. Every time he saw her, his courage doubled.

"Perhaps you are the last one." The goddess's eyes were misty.

"After all these years, I'm still alive. Don't you think everything must have some meaning?"

"Thank you," the goddess said weakly.

Thirty-six years of erosion—on the body, the will, and the soul. Why would a soul already withered away still seek the meaning of superpowers? Perhaps even the goddess herself doesn't know why.

The group of intelligent individuals grabbed the goddess's thighs and resolutely advanced.

"I live so that I may die for you."

8

The departure was as expected, followed by a precise collision in spacetime.

A strange gust of wind blew by, and a red parachute landed in the Arctic in 2020 from 2042.

On a vast, frozen land devoid of warmth, two people are destined to meet.

"You...you are..." Kobayashi Qunzhi was astonished.

“Yes, I am you, you are me from twenty-two years ago.” Old Lin Qunzhi smiled, embracing his young and fearful self: “Let’s talk about these things later, we have to keep going.”

The difference in just a few lines of dialogue means that the future will never be the same.

In the past, I lived in a life that had already happened once.

Now, a brand new adventure is about to begin.

Five hours later, the wind subsided slightly.

"?" Kobayashi pointed to a low rock wall nearby, suitable for simple camping.

"Yes," Old Lin Qunzhi nodded. It was indeed that wonderful place that had moved him back then.

Inside the tent, there was a brazier and two cups of extra-strong, high-calorie hot cocoa.

The same all-night talks, the same immense enthusiasm they poured into themselves.

"It's so wonderful to meet you here." Kobayashi Qunzhi cried with excitement: "For the next twenty-two years, I will be a man who will never give up on my goddess."

"Haha! I'd completely forgotten I'd uttered such a passionate line!" Old Lin Qunzhi laughed heartily. "Being able to become my idol when I was younger, this trip was definitely worthwhile!"

The connection between "time" and "life" is truly profound.

Whether time is constituted by the cause and effect of life, or not solely controlled by it, remains a mystery to anyone. Today, Lao Lin's wisdom team is finally one step closer to the answer.

However, what happens next will be different.

Ten hours later, the two broke camp and launched a rapid attack, avoiding the inevitable hellish ice crevice in the backlight.

Fifteen days later, the ever-focused Lao Lin Qunzhi and the courageous Xiao Lin Qunzhi joined forces to break out of the desolate and deadly zone and arrive at the small village of the Eskimos.

For the first time, I still had more than half of the supplies left in my gear.

"What you're thinking is probably the same as what I'm thinking," said Kobayashi Qunzhi, enjoying the long-missed fresh fish soup.

"That's right, I need to go find my current goddess."

Beside the fire, Old Lin Qunzhi said firmly, "I have a strong premonition that the journey across time will not stop. Perhaps the young goddess cannot do it now, but I am the last warrior. The goddess's power combined with my destiny will surely create a miracle."

The two Lin Qunzhis embraced tightly in the igloo.

They then smuggled themselves back to Taiwan, and immediately began preparing the equipment needed for their next trip.

A few days later, as soon as the goddess's text message arrived, Da Lin Qunzhi went straight to the old apartment in Yonghe.

It's still the first day of my period, which is incredibly powerful and exhilarating.

Kobayashi Qunzhi stood outside the door, letting the other version of himself go in alone.

Seeing the 31-year-old goddess lying naked on the bed, like a radiant flower, even the usually taciturn Lin Qunzhi couldn't help but burst into tears, unable to suppress his sadness and unparalleled joy.

"Thank you."

The goddess gently stroked the wrinkles on his face and kissed away the tears that had burned away the marks of time.

Then, the goddess shed tears.

"Goddess, why are you crying?" Old Lin Qunzhi hugged the goddess with pity.

The goddess's colorful, heavy makeup was smeared, melted, and disintegrated by her tears.

In the end, all that remained was the most pristine face in the world.

"Knowing that even 22 years later, I still haven't given up, I..."

Old Lin Qunzhi knows this very well, he knows it all too well.

With a strong sense of destiny, he deeply united with the goddess's young body.

combustion.

Fire!

9

The sky was overcast, the sunset's afterglow was obscured, and the air was thick with the fumes of fried tempura...

Beep!

The blaring horn, blasting directly into his ears, jolted Lao Lin Qunzhi out of his daze. He then realized he was sitting naked in the middle of the road, a small truck's wheels narrowly missing him. A near-death experience.

"Damn it! You pervert!" the truck driver yelled out of the window, "If you're going to die, don't drag others down with you!"

Several cars on both sides of the road slowed down at the same time, seemingly looking at and mocking them.

Inevitably, this always happened right after setting off. Old Lin quickly pulled up his pants and ran awkwardly to the side of the road to calm himself down. All his gear seemed unnecessary; this wasn't some desolate wilderness.