Chapter 79: Whose hand is this?
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Gao Ming moved stealthily past a makeshift encampment on this dark, stormy night. The encampment was made up of flimsy steel plate houses that were shaking and rattling in the fierce wind and rain. The area was engulfed in darkness, broken only by intermittent sounds of doors being violently forced open in the distance.
“We’re nearing Cripple Bay Village,” a inward voice warned.
With the rim of his raincoat pulled low over his face, Gao Ming felt his heart inexplicably begin to race. As he drew closer to the village, which had eerily remained untouched and undeveloped for over a decade, a chilling premonition in his mind screamed at him to stay away.
He followed a trail of footprints etched into the muddy ground, leading him to a quarantine zone set up between the village and the temporary shelter. The sign that once prohibited entry lay discarded in the mud, half-submerged in puddles that were slowly erasing the traces of blood that had been spilled there.
Pushing his way through the overgrown branches, Gao Ming came upon a scene of confrontation. Clad in a standard-issue raincoat, an investigator was facing off against a group of defiant villagers.
The villagers from the shelter, refusing to comply with the directives of Qing Ge, the leader of the investigators, tried to reason with him. However, tensions escalated when the head villager was suddenly and violently kicked into a dark, foreboding cellar.
The relentless downpour masked many sinister noises, and it was only upon closer inspection that the malevolent intentions of the people there became apparent.
When negotiations failed, the shelter’s refugees, armed with sticks and rudimentary farming tools, launched an attack on the investigators. However, these investigators from the Eastern District were no ordinary men; they were highly trained and displayed fearsome combat abilities.
In a matter of minutes, the ground near the cellar was strewn with the bodies of villagers, none left standing.
Gao Ming, lacking his usual spectral reinforcements, knew he was no match for the well-armed, battle-hardened agents of the Queen’s Investigation Bureau.
With a mere gesture, Qing Ge commanded his men to start throwing the screaming refugees into the cellar. The dark, gaping maw of the cellar seemed like a ravenous beast, never satiated.
The moment the villagers hit the bottom of the cellar, their screams eerily ceased, as if they had been devoured whole.
“We’ve already sacrificed twice as many as last time, and it’s still not enough,” Qing Ge lamented to his team, his eyes scanning over the newer recruits who stood paralyzed with fear at the end of the line. “The doctor’s estimates were incorrect. These vagrants alone won’t suffice to clear our path. You,” he pointed to one of the men, “start opening the houses. One by one, bring out all the villagers.”
Silenced by fear, no one dared to oppose Qing Ge’s orders, knowing full well that any dissent could result in being the next one thrown into the depths of the cellar.
“After the anomaly spreads, the casualties will multiply exponentially. In every species, some members must be sacrificed for the greater good in times of crisis. You are the elite; your survival is paramount. Your lives will save countless others, which is why you will be the last to be sacrificed if needed.”
“Isn’t power supposed to be used to protect those who are vulnerable?” Wei Dayou finally broke his silence, his voice tinged with disbelief and frustration.
Pondering the situation, Gao Ming couldn’t help but question aloud, “Even if the black cellar is vast, how could it possibly accommodate so many people? Could something horrifying be lurking within its depths?”
His thoughts drifted to the infamous Dog Cellar case, where the so-called ‘big dog’ was ultimately killed by the villagers. However, when the police got involved, they uncovered several puzzling aspects: Why did the madman choose the black cellar as his hideout? Who was sustaining him day after day? And most chillingly, what was his purpose behind luring children into that dark abyss?
From a logical standpoint, it seemed highly improbable that a blind man could abduct children from the village without attracting adult attention.
Regrettably, by the time the authorities arrived, the madman had already met his end, severing any leads. The villagers presented a united front in their accounts, and the case was hastily concluded based on their testimonies.
Holding a memorial photograph, Gao Ming focused on conveying Wei Dayou’s likeness to the Fear Doll, a tool in his investigative arsenal, before sending it ahead into the cellar.
But mere seconds later, all communication with the Fear Doll abruptly ceased.
“This cellar... it seems to devour anything and everything,” Gao Ming mused, a sense of foreboding growing within him.
With cautious steps, Gao Ming ventured into the cellar. The structure was in a state of disrepair; bricks were crumbling, the floor was a quagmire of mud, and the entire cellar appeared perilously close to collapsing, potentially entombing anyone inside alive.
As he moved deeper, Gao Ming attempted to use his phone’s flashlight to pierce the enveloping darkness, but bizarrely, even with the light, visibility remained nil. The cacophony of sounds from the outside world was also mysteriously fading away.
“It’s a tempest outside, with thunderclaps and howling winds, yet why is it so eerily silent in here?” Gao Ming questioned, a sense of unease creeping up on him.
Turning to look back, he was shocked – the entrance he had come through was no longer there. Gao Ming found himself ensnared in an oppressive, soundless void.
In a situation where one loses sight, they could still rely on hearing and verbal communication to connect with the world. But to lose both senses would be a disorienting, overwhelming experience for anyone.
Gao Ming couldn’t tell if it was just psychological, but his breathing seemed to grow labored. He felt as if he was gradually being engulfed by the viscous combination of mud and rising water.
In a desperate bid for a sense of grounding, Gao Ming crouched and wrapped his arms around himself. The tangible sensation of his own body provided a fleeting reassurance – he was still real, still existing in this unnerving void.
Realizing he had to quickly adapt to this sensory deprivation, Gao Ming knew he had to rely solely on his sense of touch and smell now.
“The blind man who lived here had impaired hearing as well. What I’m experiencing must have been his daily reality,” Gao Ming thought to himself, trying to understand his environment.
His first instinct was to adapt to this alien environment. Slowly, he moved towards where he remembered the entrance should be, navigating through the pitch-black, silent space. However, as he inched backwards, his back suddenly made contact with something unexpected.
Reaching behind him, Gao Ming’s hand met with another set of cold, lifeless fingers.