Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 25

My heart stirred again. The story of "the bearded man" that Song Jiu mentioned came from the legend of the "Three Heroes of the Wind and Dust" from the Tang Dynasty.

After establishing a vast power overseas, the chivalrous swordsman Qiu Ran Ke prepared to seize the Central Plains and contend for the Tang Dynasty's rule. However, while scouting Chang'an alone, he encountered Li Shimin, who was then known as the "Prince of Qin." The two played ten games, with Li Shimin placing his first piece on the "center" (Tianyuan) position in every game, each move seemingly securing victory with a single decisive move. His imposing and unparalleled style ultimately psychologically defeated Qiu Ran Ke's ambition to conquer the Central Plains.

"What does Tiger's strange matchup signify? Could he be trying to emulate the Bearded Stranger or Li Shimin, vying for power in some country?"

This is Egypt, and seizing control of the Egyptian president is no easy task. The "Rainbow Warriors," a special forces unit belonging to the Egyptian Desert Legion, is ranked among the top ten in the world for combat effectiveness among special police forces.

If Tiger were to lead his own gang to fight against the Rainbow Warriors, he would undoubtedly be courting death.

The third part: The Bizarre Purgatory

— Chapter 1 - Sacrificial Text —

“Mr. Feng, has the excavation plan been hindered? If you need my help, please… just let me know…” Tang Xin seemed somewhat nonchalant.

The more this was the case, the more I felt that behind her calm and composed expression, there must be some complex secret hidden.

"Miss Tang, are you so sure that the Turkic Pyramid must contain 'thousand-year-old corpse worms'? What if it doesn't? Wouldn't it be a wasted trip?"

While observing her closely, I listened to the sounds coming from Su Lun's side and the derrick.

“If I say it’s true, then it definitely is. If Mr. Feng has any doubts about this news, he can find out by consulting some ancient books. Mr. Feng is a top student from a prestigious university in Italy, so he must be well-read. Surely he wouldn’t have forgotten the classics of ancient China?” She skillfully deflected my question.

I have indeed read many ancient books, but there are so many strange and unusual classics left over from Chinese history. Just one book like the *Classic of Mountains and Seas* and another like the *In Search of the Supernatural* would be enough to keep someone studying for eight or ten years. In my haste, I couldn't recall any book that contained any description of the pyramids, but I couldn't bring myself to ask the other person.

"Mr. Feng, let me be frank, what the Tang Clan wants, we will get it, regardless of whether Mr. Scalpel is generous enough." Although her voice was calm, every word in her sentence carried an extremely obvious threat.

I threw my head back and laughed twice, then quickly continued, "Get it? Can you even get it? At least, as far as I know, for hundreds of years you've wanted to become the largest gang in the martial arts world, but you've never succeeded. Moreover, every time you go out to fight, you suffer heavy losses, with most of your experts dying, and then it takes at least thirty years to recover, right?"

This is a fact, and it is one of the most criticized "Achilles' heel" of the Tang Clan of Sichuan in the martial arts world.

Tang Xin's face turned cold, as if she had shivered deeply. She tucked her hands deeper into her sleeves, pursed her lips, and sneered arrogantly, "That's the past. As long as the earth doesn't perish, the martial world will always exist. As long as the martial world exists, dare you say we'll never get what we want?"

I was also taken aback. Tang Xin, who seemed to have lost his temper, appeared to have said something inappropriate. I judged that this "millennial corpse worm" was just a small trigger. The Tang Clan's real purpose should still be to continue their dream of "unifying the martial arts world" that they had held for hundreds of years.

This is ridiculous. Everyone knows that China is now a peaceful and prosperous country with a stable political situation, and its influence and control in the United Nations are increasing year by year.

For the Tang Clan of Sichuan to engage in any illegal activities in such a political environment is simply like throwing an egg against a rock—utterly foolish, like a tiger trying to cause trouble in the Egyptian desert.

"Haha, Mr. Feng, you've got the wrong idea. I was just joking..."

As Tang Xin offered a seemingly casual yet ultimately misleading explanation, Song Jiu suddenly looked up, glaring at me with murderous intent. Strangely, every time our eyes met, I sensed the surging killing intent within him, and every time his fingers were on the hilt of his sword.

I had no interest in fighting this cold-blooded man in black, so I politely bowed to Tang Xin and said, "Miss Tang, you're joking. If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

In front of girls, I always remind myself to maintain a gentlemanly image, regardless of where she comes from or what her background is.

Tang Xin examined her fingernails again, then smiled, her expression like a pale but cold and beautiful flower: "Mr. Feng, my request is actually very simple. I just want you to keep your promise to the tiger and not keep the 'Millennial Corpse Worm' to yourself after you discover it, okay?"

I nodded silently, glanced at the tiger's broad back, and stepped back.

Tang Xin added from inside the tent, "Mr. Feng—we need 'Millennial Corpse Worms,' not those ordinary scarabs..."

I subconsciously looked west and then north at the two pyramids, which were vastly different in size, and kept shaking my head and sighing softly.

Scarabs are among the most common insects depicted in the murals of the pyramids. They resemble miniature scarab beetles, and biologists have even discovered surviving scarab eggs inside the Great Pyramid of Giza. In Egyptian mythology, scarabs were kept as pets by pharaohs, much like how people in modern society keep turtles, dogs, or cats as pets.

Of course I wouldn't mistake those little black things for "thousand-year-old corpse worms"; I have that much common sense.

The legend of the "thousand-year-old corpse worm" exists in Egyptian myths about the pyramids, is widely circulated, and is described in an exaggerated and fantastical way.

Legend has it that the corpse worm was hidden in the Pharaoh's bones, and it suddenly appeared from the first day he put on the Pharaoh's crown. Its length was the longest curve inside the Pharaoh's body, running from the tip of his right big toe all the way to the top of his head.

Each pharaoh had only one corpse worm inside him. Based on the dynastic changes in ancient Egypt, there was a certain number of corpse worms, with no more and no less. The magical function of the corpse worm was to carry the pharaoh's thoughts. In other words, with the existence of the corpse worm, the pharaoh's thoughts were directly connected with the heavens, allowing him to uphold divine will, rule over the people, and govern the desert.

This superstitious claim has long been refuted by biologists, who say that the "corpse worms" are actually giant filarial worms commonly found in the Nile River. The Nile River flows for a long time, and its waters are teeming with deadly bacteria and highly venomous insects. Thousands upon thousands of residents along its banks suffer from filarial worm disease, so it's entirely possible that the Pharaoh also contracted the disease through his drinking water.

To support this theory, biologists found fibrous tissue resembling filarial protozoa in a well-preserved pharaoh mummy. Although different from common filarial worms, this can be explained by the fact that the descendants of filarial worms have undergone improvements and mutations over a long period of history, just as modern humans are far more intelligent and physically superior to ancient humans.

"Brother Feng, what's wrong?" Su Lun approached me silently, like a well-behaved cat. But her expression was heavy and serious; even if she resembled a cat, she was a cat burdened with worries.

Behind her, Elder Sahan had finished his ritual and returned to his tent with Youlian.

Suren let out a heavy sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders: "Just now, when I gestured to stop you from going over, it was actually because I didn't want to arouse Elder Sahan's suspicion."

I smiled magnanimously and turned to look towards the derrick. The onlookers and the tent with the monitors were all quiet, clearly indicating that the drilling work below the tunnel had not made any progress.

The usual night chill of the desert had already crept in, and I had a premonition that today's digging work would definitely be fruitless.

“Brother Feng, I’ve obtained some audio recordings of Elder Sahan performing rituals. I need to send them back to the villa so you can authenticate them.” Suren seemed quite agitated.

"What? Is there something wrong with those prayers?" I became alert as well.

Among those who arrived at the camp, Tang Xin and her group showed no signs of tension, Lu Jiacan stood by as if nothing was amiss, and Elder Sahan remained hidden in his tent, patiently observing. In truth, their normal reaction should have been one of intense interest in the tomb excavation. Their indifference was the most unusual thing about these three groups.

Suren and I walked side by side toward our tent. She quickly dialed Scalpel's number—a separate, secret number, of course. I knew Scalpel used a different number for everyone else; his villa had a special communications room with over a hundred single-line telephones stacked on each floor.

“Brother, there’s a passage in the scripture that’s very important. I’ve heard ancient Egyptian words like ‘sacrifice, offering, divine beast,’ and ‘devour’ at least ten times. These words appeared during Elder Sahan’s mystical rituals. Could you please have someone translate them and see what they mean?”

She took out a precision recorder about the size of a lighter, brought it close to the microphone, and began playing.

All the telephones on the other side of the scalpel were connected to a simultaneous recording system, easily recording the sounds. When I reached the tent entrance, Suren had finished transmitting the message and looked back at me anxiously: "Brother Feng, can you guess what kind of ritual Elder Sahan performed?"

I blurted out, "It's just a ritualistic offering."

Ancient Egypt practiced frequent sacrificial rites, with grand monthly sacrifices commemorating the sun, moon, and stars, often involving human, horse, and cattle as offerings. In some seasons, these grand sacrifices could be held more than five times a month. In addition, numerous smaller sacrificial activities took place daily in villages, giving rise to a variety of rituals and ceremonies, including large and small sacrifices, long and short prayers, various ritual implements, and specific procedures—forming an indispensable part of ancient Egyptian culture.

Suren bit her lip and breathed a sigh of relief: "I thought so too, we think exactly the same thing."

"Is something wrong?" I hadn't yet grasped Suren's true thoughts. Sacrifices and ritual texts were commonplace in Egypt; ancient murals frequently depicted grand scenes of thousands kneeling in worship. Even in 21st-century Egyptian cities, one could find bald-headed, grey-robed priests on every street corner.

Suren shook her head thoughtfully: "It's just a guess. I'll tell you when my brother has the results."

I pointed to the derrick and said, "Should we go take another look? I'm afraid tonight's excavation will yield nothing."

The thickness of the entire facade of that stone wall must be exactly the same, without any difference in thickness. Therefore, even if Dr. Tang's mysterious machine could drill a hundred holes in the stone wall, the depth would only reach a meager five meters, which would be of no help in opening the tomb.

The reason why directional blasting was not used is very simple, and I have already explained it several times in previous posts. Blindly blasting would only turn the tunnel into a living graveyard for experts, leading to an uncontrollable collapse.

Such a setback would certainly be a fatal blow to Tang, who had arrived full of enthusiasm. But was this something the surgeon had anticipated?

The efficiency of the scalpel was astonishing. In just four minutes, he had already returned the call: "Surlen, that recording does indeed prove that Elder Sahan is conducting a sacrificial ceremony. Please listen carefully, everyone. His object of worship is the great god Tu Liehan."

My palms were sweating profusely at the same time, and I listened intently.

"The sacrifice, and a living sacrifice at that, can be translated as follows: 'To the omnipotent god Turkhan, we offer up the foreign sinners who dare to offend the heavens. Let the god of punishment from the cave of serpents carefully select them, gnaw away their entrails, and restore their clean souls.' That's roughly the meaning. I only want to emphasize one point: you must not act rashly, and you must not be among the first to enter the pyramid. Do you understand?"

After the call ended, Suren put down her phone, and I noticed that her hair was soaked with cold sweat, with large beads of sweat dripping down her face.

The third part: The Bizarre Purgatory

— Chapter 2 — First Failure —

The sacrificial ceremony performed by Elder Sahan at this crucial moment undoubtedly treated the people who entered the tunnel as living sacrifices offered to the god Turkhan.

After a chill ran down my spine, I couldn't help but turn around abruptly to face the low-hanging curtain in front of his tent.

Suren wiped the cold sweat from his chin: "Brother Feng, I heard Sahan's tone and expression during his prayer. It was full of piety towards the god Tu Liehan, mixed with hatred for the tomb raiders. If... if I'm not mistaken, he was ostensibly helping us into the tomb, but secretly he was on the side of the god Tu Liehan."

It is incredible to help "God" fight against one's own kind, but considering Elder Sahan's identity, it becomes perfectly normal for someone who has spent his whole life considering himself a servant of the gods to have such thoughts.

"Thank goodness... the tomb hasn't been opened yet..." I muttered to myself. I was anxious because I couldn't break through the stone wall, but now I felt that this was a great "blessing in disguise".

So, in Sahan's mind, did the god Turkhan truly exist? Were his words to the scalpel and to each of us tainted with evil lies?

In that instant, in my mind, Sahan and Youlian became ferocious and monstrous enemies.

"My brother said that if the excavation work is hindered, everyone should not panic blindly. He has already found a more capable military expert to help."

I know that while the camp was busily preparing for the excavation work, the scalpels in the villa certainly wouldn't be idle.

"Military experts? Is it—the Rainbow Warriors?" They are the elite of the elite in the Egyptian army, and the Rainbow Warriors only appear in the most critical moments. Given the special relationship between Scalpel and the Egyptian government, it was only a matter of time before this force was mobilized.

"Yes, it's the Rainbow Warriors, two squads totaling forty-five people. They can take up camp within forty-eight hours and protect everyone's safety."

I'm not too interested in this. I don't need to ensure security, but I'm worried that the military might covet the treasures inside the pyramids. I hope they don't massacre the camp and harm innocent people.

In many small African countries, certain clandestine military operations cannot be conducted in a manner consistent with "humanity" or "law." Everything is decided by guns and bullets, and many heinous crimes and tragedies often become shocking realities overnight. The law, often, cannot even protect those who created it, let alone ordinary civilians.

I grabbed Suren's hand and practically dragged her into the tent next to the derrick. I didn't want them to face some unseen danger if they were separated. I needed to keep her by my side and protect her at all times.

Yellan was working diligently, and on the monitor, Tang was directing his assistants to drill the third hole. It was obvious, without explanation, that his second drilling attempt had also failed.

Two more black holes have appeared on the stone wall, looking strange and eerie.

Yelan was covered in sweat, with more than a dozen broken pencils lying on the table in front of him, and pages of notes scattered all over the floor.

“It’s blocked again! The second entrance is blocked too. I’m starting to doubt the results of the X-ray detection! Mr. Feng, you’ve come at the right time. Look at what that mural looks like now!” Yelan slammed his fist on the table, making loud “thump thump thump thump” noises.

The two black holes are half a meter apart, with the second opening located at a 45-degree angle to the lower left of the first.

"Look, doesn't it look like a three-eyed monster? If the third cave entrance takes shape, it will definitely look like this, a monster with three big eyes?"

Yelan was somewhat out of control. He picked up the huge enamel mug in front of him and took big gulps of Brazilian black coffee.

Monsters don't exist in the world, unless you're like a dim-witted Japanese manga artist who, while drinking coffee and eating fish, conjures up a bunch of complex monsters out of thin air.

“Yelan, you’d better go and get some rest,” I suggested to him.

At the end of the tunnel, a large pile of gray powder had accumulated. Next to it, an open white nylon bag was filled to the brim with this powder, which was to be brought back for composition analysis.

This time, Dr. Tang operated the drilling rig himself. Half an hour later, he stopped in despair, covered his face with his hands, and swayed unsteadily, utterly exhausted.

The result was the same as the previous two times: the drill bit had reached its maximum range of motion, but the rock wall was still not drilled through.

Everyone else lost their enthusiasm, except for Tano, who, holding a powerful flashlight, peered into each of the three cave entrances in turn. A cave was just a cave; no matter how hard one looked, it was impossible to project one's gaze beyond the remaining stone walls and into the ancient tomb.

Under his command, three people from among the staff under Tang's leadership stepped forward, each holding a powerful flashlight, and simultaneously crawled into the black hole.

This scene inevitably reminds me of Elder Sahan's horrific sacrificial text: three living sacrifices were stuffed directly into the monster's mouth, leaving these innocent and ignorant people to perish. In a daze, I felt that behind the stone wall, or even the stone wall itself, was a gigantic, crouching monster.

"My God! Is this excavation even necessary?" I pressed my temples in pain, as they were throbbing and growing stronger.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen." Suren brought me coffee. At that moment, I felt a sense of mutual dependence between us.

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just too tired—” As she took the coffee, Suren placed her hand over mine and gently comforted me, “Don’t be nervous. It’s very likely that the so-called monsters and ritual texts are just fantastical myths. The pyramids are just monuments used by the ancient Egyptians to show off their wealth, power, and manpower. They have nothing to do with monsters.”

I gave a soft, bitter laugh. The words I used to comfort others were always the same: trying to guess the best possible outcome.

Sure enough, the three people who went into the cave soon climbed out empty-handed.

Tano's voice came through the walkie-talkie: "Feng, three drilling attempts have yielded no results. We've decided to temporarily withdraw from the tunnel. Please prepare for a backup." These words undoubtedly acknowledged the failure of the first drilling operation.

Before we knew it, four hours had passed. By the time we finished our discussion in the large tent in the valley, it was past midnight.

The four experts' dejection lasted only a short while before their worries dissipated.

After a brief setback, Dr. Tang called Lockheed Martin and quickly ordered a super drill bit twelve meters long. Martin is the world's leading weapons manufacturer; tools of any shape and size can be ordered.