Daomu Biji Volume 8 Chapter 59

I shouted, raised my gun, and fired just as Fatty immediately pressed the top of the gun down. All the bullets. .h.i.t the ground, making an earth-shattering sound. The hair from the body lying on the ground grew very fast and I went to look at the corpse's face. The eye socket had suddenly collapsed, his mouth opened wider, and the green liquid seeped out along the black hairs.

f.u.c.k, it's turning into a zombie!

The two of us rolled and crawled several steps back. I cursed Fatty, “Your f.u.c.king words are useless! When will it fully change?"

Fatty said, “I've already admitted my mistake. I really haven't seen such a corpse change like this. This is a f.u.c.king model for the determined disabled in the zombie world!”

I told him, “Look in that equipment bag for black donkey hooves or other useful things.”

“d.a.m.n it! The bag wasn't that big, do you think there would be such a thing? Do you think there are chihuahua donkeys in the world?"

I used a flashlight to illuminate the corpse, which turned over unexpectedly. I quickly turned the flashlight to another place and said, “Go get Little Brother or get some of his blood!”

Fatty suddenly remembered something and said, “I have it, I have it, I don't need it, I have blood!”

“Your blood has no d.a.m.n use!”

“Not my blood, it's Little Brother's. I asked him for it before." Fatty took something out of his pocket and I saw it was a sanitary napkin with some blood on it.

“You—” I really wanted to hit my head against the wall, “Where did you get it from?”

“When Little Brother was injured once, I secretly saved it. It wasn't easy to save so much." Fatty said, “I'm telling you, you don't need to light mosquito incense when you leave it at home in summer.”

“f.u.c.k me.” I couldn't understand this weird situation. Fatty said, “Don't mind it. Come on, let's play Shua Weifeng today." As he said this, he pointed the napkin at the corpse and said, “Get down and hold your hand out.”

At a glance, there was only a pool of green water on the ground, and the body had disappeared. When I s.h.i.+ned the flashlight on the ground, I was bewildered—the body was now lying on the coffin.

“He didn't understand it correctly. Are you sure this is Little Brother's blood?” I asked.

“Absolutely sure! I've never been careless with such life-saving things." Fatty said, “Wait a minute. You know the p.r.o.nunciation of ancient people was different from that of modern people. Try the ancient p.r.o.nunciation.”

“I won't.” I said, “Little Brother didn't say anything when he was intimidating the female corpse that one time!”

Fatty tugged at the napkin and called again. Seeing that the body was still unresponsive, he said, “Maybe Little Brother's blood can only deal with the female body? Is this corpse a man?"

I shook my head and looked at the body covered with black hair—it had only one hand, but jumped nimbly from the coffin to the ground and crawled towards us. We immediately retreated more than ten meters for fear of being caught by him.

Fatty was still holding the napkin but the body was still completely unafraid. Fatty had blue veins standing out on his forehead and suddenly slapped the sanitary napkin directly on the body's face. He pulled the submachine gun from his back and said to me, “d.a.m.n it, it's not reliable. Let's play hardball and give him a second round!”

I immediately followed him—just as the body quickly approached us with a few steps, we both held our guns and fired directly at it. The bullets all hit the body like rain water, knocking it over a dozen times and folding it behind the coffin. We immediately went around and saw holes smoking all over it. But then the body flipped over, turned around, and continued to climb towards us.

“I said it was useless to shoot zombies with machine guns. The caliber of this gun is too small!” Fatty fired several direct shots, hindering the body's progress and I saw that we broke its hand.

“Not necessarily!” I said, “Concentrate your fire, we'll smash his head!” Fatty and I pulled the trigger and chased the body for a while. Countless bullets were fired and I changed one magazine after another. We didn't stop until the zombie's head was completely broken off and the body stopped moving.

Green fluid was flowing everywhere.

Fatty and I waited for half a day beside the body and gave each other a celebratory high-five when we found that he was really motionless. Fatty said, “Yeah, I find that each person with a firearm is much better than Little Brother!”

“Don't say that. After all, Little Brother has more ammunition than we do.” I said.

Fatty pointed to the coffin and asked me if I wanted to see it. I shook my head and said to him, “From now on, nothing will be opened.”

It's not that I don't want to see it. In fact, I still want to know what was carved on the inner lid of the coffin, but I really had no energy to deal with any more emergencies. Just now, I had agreed with Fatty only on a whim, but in fact, my heart was still quite uneasy. Obviously, our two const.i.tutions were definitely not suited for this line of work—one encouraged me to open a coffin, the other was the inevitability of encountering a zombie when opening said coffin. I think I should be more self-aware in the future. Grandpa was obviously quite wise not to let me do this job.

Fatty thought for a moment and nodded, “Agreed.”

The way forward was just behind those boxes so Fatty and I knocked them to pieces. We walked past and saw the third stone door, but this one was hung from above and there was a beast's head carved on it. The door was half open, supported by a jack that was very badly rusted and made one feel that it may break at the slightest touch.

There was a stone above the beast's head, weighing about 300 to 400 kilograms, that acted as the door's weight-bearing stone. Such stones were used to press the stone door down.

I leaned my head halfway in and s.h.i.+ned the flashlight. Then, the two of us climbed in and saw an even bigger stone chamber.

This was a huge circular stone chamber, half the size of a football field that had seven huge pillars standing around it. Above was a seven-star crest. It was a bit like a tomb, but compared with other large tombs, it still lacked details. There was a high platform in the middle of the stone chamber that looked very much like Zhang Jialou and in front of this platform were two small rivers flowing through the front of the tomb.

I visually inspected the width of the rivers and saw that the first one was about six people wide and had nothing in it. The second one, which was closer to us, had six stone bridges, each looking very different. At each bridge head was a terrible animal statue, which couldn't be seen clearly, but all of them looked sorrowful and malicious.

Fatty lifted his foot and wanted to go up but I stopped him and pointed to the top. I saw a rope above the tomb, which was clearly erected by later generations and was very new. It was a modern mountaineering rope—apparently Poker-Face set it up when they came in.

When I looked up, I saw that the tops of the seven pillars were umbrellshaped, as if a large umbrella was propped up on the top of the stone chamber, carved with strange reliefs. Some of the reliefs had hook-like shapes, such as the beak of a hawk and the tail of a carp, which all looked like hooks anyway. It wasn't normal and I could see at a glance that these reliefs were camouflage. The purpose of installing these hooks must have been to allow the rope to skillfully pa.s.s through these reliefs. It must have been designed by ancient craftsmen to hoist something and when it was done, the hooks were carved into various patterns.

On the other side was an iron hook, which should have been thrown from the opposite side and hooked somewhere on the ceiling. This kind of precision must be the work of Little Brother. The rope was skillfully shuttled between the hooks, forming a rope bridge.

There must be something strange about those seven bridges—if you get on the wrong one, you're likely to encounter a disaster. In order to avoid this trouble, Poker-Face chose other ways—this was also his style, to never follow the path arranged by others.

The river was six people wide, that is to say, ten meters up. With our current strength, it was absolutely impossible to cross the river directly. As a result, we had to follow the path that Little Brother left us.

We found the end of the rope, climbed up, hung upside down from the ceiling, crossed the outer river and came to the other river that was further in. Fatty looked down from above and said, “There seems to be something in the river?”

“What is it, a crocodile?” I asked, thinking that even crocodiles should be dead here.

“No, it's a dead man!” Fatty said. We came down on the other side. Fatty dropped his pack and immediately made a hook out of an iron pick. He went to the place where he saw the dead body and waded through the water to try to stir it up. Unexpectedly, he managed to fish a black thing up from the river.

After pulling it ash.o.r.e, we immediately smelled a terrible rancid odor.

As expected, it was a corpse, but not an ancient one—was it a member of Little Brother's team?

“Could it be the body of someone who walked across the bridge?” Fatty asked.

I shook my head: “Little Brother seldom lets his team die from this kind of mistake, unless you were a completely unorganized and undisciplined person.”

We turned the body over and saw that it was covered with mud and smelled of traditional Chinese medicine. I took some water from the stream and poured it on the body, revealing a Qilin tattoo. On the swollen body, the tattoo was extremely clear. Fatty exclaimed, “It's Little Brother! When did he die again?"

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