Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 16

Sahan suddenly clapped his hands, making a "plop" sound.

As if waking from a dream, Youlian shook off the scalpel, stepped over, and stood behind Sahan, her eyelids lowered, completely submissive.

“You two, Youlian was born deaf and mute and cannot communicate with people in a normal way. No matter how loud you shout, it will be useless. However, I know what you are doubting—I am still me. With the Pharaoh’s binding spell protecting me, the illusion demon cannot harm me…” He waved the gray blanket on his body, and the winding red spells were like bright poppies blooming in the fields.

The scalpel seemed relieved, and his expression began to soften.

“Mr. Scalpel, we can leave now. My illness is completely cured, and I should be able to handle anything. The time the gods have given us is running out; any further delay will mean that every second that passes will affect the future safety of Earth—”

What I hate most in my life is this kind of high-sounding rhetoric, which uses "the safety of the earth and the safety of humanity" as an excuse, as if the speaker is the only savior of the earth.

I snorted and strode into the corridor first. The stone chamber covered in red runes put immense pressure on my mind, and I couldn't wait to leave.

In the lobby of the research institute, I met Sen. He was really young, probably a few years younger than me, with a light fuzz on his upper lip and a focused, serious gaze. Bill Gates is the world's richest man, so the successor he has chosen must be a master among masters.

"You...please wait a moment, please wait a moment!" He stepped forward, blocking my way. His white work clothes fluttered, bringing with them a strange smell of disinfectant.

"What's up? What's the matter?" I asked, my hands in my pockets, trying to figure out his purpose.

"Do you know the riddle of the Sphinx?" he asked abruptly, adjusting his glasses and showing a coin in his palm.

The questions posed by experts always seem strange, but in fact contain unparalleled wisdom.

I doubted Sen would stop his work to chat with me over such a silly question. I smiled at him, waiting for him to continue. The "Riddle of the Sphinx" circulating in the desert tells the story of that famous demon and riddle; I had no interest in listening to it.

Scalpel, Sahan, and Youlian have caught up and are right behind me.

"Guess, a letter or a head?" He flicked the coin lightly with his long thumbnail, sending it leaping three feet from his palm, tumbling and spinning before landing back in his hand, where he gripped it tightly. [QiS]

Scalpel laughed: "Feng, let's go first. You can talk to Sen slowly. Maybe he can inspire your supreme wisdom and win Bill Gates' favor."

He walked side by side with Sahan back to the stainless steel corridor they had come from, with Youlian following slowly behind, like a giant bat that hadn't woken up yet.

"If you guess right, I'll give you a million dollars; if you guess wrong, you lose something to me." Scientists don't know how to mince words; they speak and act directly and bluntly. Sen pursed his lips, his expression stubborn.

Hitler once said: Only the paranoid can succeed—I think Sen belongs to this kind of mental patient with a bit of "paranoia".

I don't seem to have anything on me that would be of interest to the other party, except for the diary left by my brother.

"what would you like?"

He shook his fist: "You guess first, and I'll tell you after we decide who wins."

If I hadn't been deliberately trying to avoid passing Scalpel and the others, I wouldn't have paid any attention to Sen's unreasonable obstruction. My mind was in turmoil; I needed to calm down and sort out what had happened in the stone chamber. Even now, I still couldn't fully trust Sahan.

I stared intently at Sen's fist and chuckled softly, "Do you know that in ancient China, there is a most mysterious magic called 'clairvoyance'?"

To foreigners, China, with its long history, is full of incredible strange things and practices, such as acupuncture and traditional Chinese medicine, which they find most incomprehensible. So, as soon as I spoke, Sen raised an eyebrow and covered his fist with his other hand, obviously to guard against my X-ray vision.

There's something that probably no one knows yet.

In Italian casinos, I honed my observation skills to an extraordinary level, able to discern every row of symbols on the dazzling slot machines in a fraction of a second. I've tested it many times, and winning the top jackpot on the slot machines is a piece of cake.

Therefore, the instant I flicked the coin, I not only saw how many times it rolled, but I could even tell the angle of the person's head when the coin landed in my palm.

I don't want money, I just want to know Sahan's physical information from Sen.

“Mr. Sen, let’s talk about terms. If I win, you can have whatever you want. In exchange, you have to give me all the medical records of Elder Sahan’s examination, without missing a single word, how about that?”

Everyone in the hall was engrossed in their work and showed absolutely no interest in our betting game.

Sen nodded without hesitation: "There's a Chinese saying, 'A gentleman's word is his bond.'"

I continued, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." You see, far-sighted people from all walks of life around the world are working hard to learn Chinese, hoping to participate in developing China's huge business opportunities. So, wherever you go, you can hear the fixed phrase "There's a Chinese saying."

The side of the coin facing up is a human head; I can't be wrong.

After extending his palm, Sen showed no annoyance and pointed to another hole in the opposite wall: "What I want is a single cell from your body as a scientific research sample for human cloning. Of course, I will absolutely guarantee the safety and confidentiality of this sample, and that it will not cause you any harm."

He habitually pushed up his glasses, then suddenly whistled. A slightly short and chubby girl came running over quickly, pushing a four-wheeled cart full of bottles and jars.

The scientists' speed and efficiency were so impressive that I was ashamed of myself, as they completed the task of retrieving a single cell and retrieving Sahan's data simultaneously in just thirty-five seconds.

The records clearly show that when Elder Sahan entered the research institute, his symptoms were likely those of acute bacterial malaria, and his body temperature had exceeded the limits that the human body could withstand. The record sheet showed a precise measurement of the patient's body temperature every half minute, and I was horrified to see that on one occasion, Sahan's temperature reached an unusually high 55 degrees Celsius.

The lobby remained quiet, and the air conditioning system maintained the temperature at around 18 degrees Celsius, which is the most comfortable temperature for the human body. However, it felt like a fire was burning fiercely in my mind.

"What does a body temperature of 55 degrees Celsius mean?" I asked myself silently.

Sen hadn't left yet. Pointing at the computer screen, he asked with a smile, in a tone of utter familiarity and nonchalance, "Is it strange?"

The safe body temperature for humans should be around 42 degrees Celsius. If it rises any higher, the brain will definitely be paralyzed due to the high fever, and there is a 90% chance of becoming a vegetable.

As I carefully recalled all the information about Elder Sahan, including the nearly one-hour meeting I had just had with him, my mind was a complete mess. Pathological records, to some extent, only added to the confusion and didn't explain anything at all.

Sen raised his arm: "Mr. Feng, I'm wondering why your brain can't think outside the box? You know, human abilities are incredibly diverse. According to data, out of the world's four billion people, one in every thousand possesses special abilities; and among those thousand people with special abilities, one can—"

He held up a black ballpoint pen in his hand, waved it at me, and exhaled. As if by magic, the pen slowly bent ninety degrees, turning into a strange hook.

"This isn't magic; this is supernatural ability. Mr. Feng is no ordinary person; he can certainly understand the reasoning behind it. As the spiritual pillar of the Egyptians, how could Elder Sahan have achieved his current status of commanding immense influence—think about it, could he be an ordinary Earthling?"

He tapped the computer screen with the ballpoint pen that had morphed into a hook, then continued nonchalantly, "His individual uniqueness goes far beyond this. I've already obtained his single cell line, and I believe that given time, I will definitely be able to..."

The Second Underground Horror

— Chapter 7 — A Series of Confusion —

I couldn't help but gasp repeatedly. Elder Sahan's supernatural abilities were unfathomable, seemingly beyond my imagination.

“Mr. Feng, I can sense that you are no ordinary person, but… I need some time…”

Sen typed rapidly on the keyboard, and a virtual, composite view of the solar system quickly appeared on the screen. The background was a dizzyingly deep blue-black, dotted with stars, some bright and some dim.

The Earth, which we care about most, is just a tiny, insignificant dot in this picture.

"I think you can sense something from this, right? Focus, look at it—"

Sen placed his palms on his temples, adopting the standard posture of a desert wizard summoning spirits, and slowly moved closer to the computer screen.

“Look, Mr. Wind, look… We’re in a spacecraft, getting closer and closer to the solar system… closer and closer… We’re on our way home, you know? Earth is humanity’s home, but for us, it’s just a fleeting visit—where is our home? Where is our home…?”

His voice sounded just like a necromancer, but later it became a muffled whisper from deep in his throat, and his face was pressed against the computer screen.

I jumped back abruptly, forcing myself out of this hypnotic state, waving my hands in disgust as if trying to escape something utterly vile. I've always been extremely averse to the bizarre exorcism rituals of Egyptian sorcerers. My sleeve flipped over the coffee cup on the table, and with a whoosh, the brown liquid spilled all over the table.

Sen's face left the screen, turning to stare at his coffee cup, his expression cold and strange. His eyes, in particular, seemed to be constantly emitting a peculiar green light. Earthlings typically have black, yellow, blue, and brown eyes, varying by region, but there is no evidence that anyone possesses green eyes.

Even stranger things happened: all the spilled coffee, as if in slow motion in a movie, returned to the cup. And the cup itself stood upright, still half full of coffee, with a faint steam rising from it.

I gritted my teeth and tried hard to control my facial muscles so that I wouldn't lose my composure.

Everything in this research institute is incredibly strange; no wonder the scalpel was so friendly and humble towards Sen earlier. If it were me, I wouldn't have so easily provoked this psychic master who was favored by Bill Gates.

“Mr. Feng, you can do these trivial tricks too—if you’re willing. Give me some time, and I’ll give you a complete test report, of course, about your body’s cells…”

I didn't want to hear him continue, so I fled the hall in a panic.

After stepping into the elevator, I realized my chest was heaving rapidly, and my heart was beating at least three times faster. I squatted on the floor, holding my head in my hands, forcing myself to calm down, until the elevator doors opened with a "ding." Like a rabbit shot by an arrow, I ran out quickly, all the way to the garden in front of the main building, where I violently vomited under a huge banana tree.

After vomiting until my whole body felt weak and my limbs were limp, I lay down on the spot, my body almost completely exhausted.

It was so dark, I couldn't care less about anything else. All I wanted to do was relax and get some sleep, so that my tense nerves wouldn't be torn apart by my rapidly working brain.

"Why did Scalpel recruit Mori and establish such a massive research institute? What was its purpose?"

"He's just a江湖 (jianghu) figure who makes a living and rises to power through tomb raiding. Is it really necessary for him to get involved with these 'supernatural ability masters'?"

"The danger of the Turkham Pyramid is well known, yet he insisted on starting the excavation plan, and then willingly handed over the entire excavation plan to Tanino. This is completely out of character for a tomb raiding expert. Did he really just want to exchange it for the photos and data in Tanino's hands?"

To this day, I still don't fully believe those photos.

Medical experts' research shows that, based on DNA analysis, brothers born to the same parents, regardless of whether they are twins, possess a special brainwave connection that allows them to communicate telepathically. My senses are much more acute than the average person's, and my elder brother, as a master tomb raider, must also possess the most developed "sixth sense." If he were still alive, there would definitely be some kind of telepathic connection between us brothers.

Therefore, I don't believe that my elder brother is still alive and has been living in some dark ancient tomb for the past fifteen years.

Furthermore, if Gu Ye's data is true and reliable, it would cause a huge sensation if it were released to any research institution in any country. Why waste a precious gem by exchanging it for a scalpel?

More and more problems swirled around me. I closed my eyes, felt dizzy, and gradually drifted off to sleep.

I had no idea how dawn came. When I woke up, I felt dizzy, chilled, and my body was icy cold.

"Little White, Little White, wait a minute—Little White..."

Suddenly, a girl's sweet voice rang out not far away, followed by a strong, fishy smell. It wasn't the smell of fish, but the odor emitted by some kind of highly venomous snake or insect before it opened its mouth to hunt.

I have an innate sensitivity to danger, but this time, the moment I opened my eyes and before I could even make a move, I saw a venomous snake, over two feet long and covered in silver scales, staring fiercely at me. Its head and neck were a perfect triangle, its dead gray eyes staring coldly straight ahead, and its blood-red tongue flicked in and out, revealing its sharp, fanged teeth.

If I had a gun, I might risk it, but only when I was at my peak physical condition. Not now. I knew my rolling and dodging wouldn't be enough to evade its lightning-fast bite. Moreover, the overwhelming, pungent stench clearly indicated that its venom was far more potent than that of the more common king cobra.

When all the scales on its neck stood upright, it produced a piercing, screeching sound.

I closed my eyes again, racking my brains for self-rescue measures after being bitten by a venomous snake. If I was lucky enough, I might be able to stop my energy flow and move to the main building. I hoped that God would bless me and that the scalpel would have the most effective antidote. As far as I could remember, the fastest death record for someone bitten by one of the most venomous snakes on Earth was sixteen seconds. I just hoped that this little white creature wouldn't be among the top ten most venomous snakes.

"Little Bai, be a good boy, I've found you two roosters to help you recover. Sigh, I know you're tired and annoyed from such a long journey, but there's nothing I can do. For the sake of our Tang Clan in Sichuan, everyone has to work hard, right? Come here, be a good boy..."

That was Tang Xin's voice. That damned Tang Clan prodigy from Sichuan! This strange snake that suddenly appeared was brought by her?

In my heart, I silently cursed the ancestors of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, all the way down to Wang Xianzhi, the ancestor who founded the sect at the end of the Tang Dynasty. I recounted all the masters of the Tang Clan who met tragic ends, who rose to fame through poison and perished because of it—

I didn't want to open my eyes again, lest she see me in such a disheveled state.

A flapping sound of wings came from the rooster she mentioned, which was meant to nourish the snake.

When the fishy smell in my nose subsided a little, I opened my eyes again. The snake was gone. I turned to look at Tang Xin, and lo and behold! Not only Tang Xin, but Tiger and Song Jiu were there too. They were both intently following behind Tang Xin, their eyes fixed on the white snake slithering on the ground.

Two enormous, colorful roosters cowered on the ground, watching helplessly as the white snake slithered closer, offering no resistance whatsoever.

Roosters are usually considered natural predators of snakes, insects, and centipedes, but this time, even after the white snake leaped up fiercely and bit the comb of one of the roosters, the rooster remained curled up in a ball, too afraid to move.

Tang Xin breathed a sigh of relief: "Finally, everything's alright! With food to eat, Xiao Bai's ferocity will be greatly reduced. Thank goodness, no one was hurt." She glanced at me sideways with a half-smile.

This time he made a huge fool of himself. In front of the three of them, he vomited all over the place and lay there like a dead dog all night, almost becoming a meal for a poisonous snake.

"Feng, Suren asked me to tell you that the military has intervened. Please hurry over there... on that terrace!" Tiger jumped over hastily, temporarily forgetting about serving Tang Xin. He reached out his large hand and pulled me up abruptly. Another wave of dizziness washed over me, and I almost fell headfirst into his arms.

"What's wrong with you? Hurry up and go over there. She seems very anxious—I've seen the other person's uniform and rank; he must be a high-ranking military figure, at least a general..."

I punched my forehead twice to try and clear my head, then staggered back toward the main building, swaying from side to side and constantly having to hold onto the trees for balance. I had only gone halfway when two burly servants in white came up to me, speaking broken English: "Sir, Miss is looking for you, she's on the balcony."

The situation within the Egyptian army is extremely complex. Internal government documents indicate that the opposition controls over 70% of the force. Of the 25 high-ranking officials at the division commander level or above, 19 are from the opposition. Therefore, should the political situation change, the president's position immediately becomes precarious. Especially in a semi-modern, semi-barbaric world like Africa, where power often comes from the barrel of a gun, coups d'état by military leaders frequently occur in smaller countries, often resulting in the president being replaced by a military leader.

So, what does "military involvement" mean? Does it mean that the military has also become interested in the Pyramid of Tsarist Russia?

The scalpel has a very good relationship with the Egyptian government, but conversely, it must maintain a proper distance from the military; it cannot play both sides. Therefore, it seems the excavation of the pyramids is becoming increasingly public, and the truth can no longer be concealed.

Led by two servants, instead of entering through the main gate, they entered the terrace through a hidden fire escape.

Suren sat quietly in the wicker chair, facing the direction of the rising sun. A cigarette, nearly burned out, was between her fingers in her right hand, and she looked preoccupied.