Chapter 44: Quicksand Trap

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Before the sound coming from under the sand disappeared, I suddenly heard countless rumblings from the darkness in the distance, as if something had fallen from the top of the cave and into the quicksand. The sound was very dense like rain, as if a considerable number of things were falling.

Fatty was rolling hard, but after hearing the sound, he stopped immediately and said to himself, "I think I just heard the sound of bad luck." He immediately sat up, and since we didn't have anything to protect ourselves with, he took out the iron picks.

I also knew that something must've happened, but looking around, I could only see quicksand and the sound came from a certain distance away. Although the "Wolf's Eye" could illuminate far into the distance, it was hard to see the details clearly in the yellow sand, and downright impossible to see what was falling down.

I was uneasy, knowing we didn't have any defense at all now. Once the chassis we were lying on was damaged, we'd sink into the quicksand. Although it wasn't deep enough to trap us, we'd essentially become turtles in a jar. To put it bluntly, if we were trapped in the quicksand, even a few patient mosquitoes could kill us here. I said to Fatty, "Your stupid toothpicks won't do much good either. Keep climbing. How far can you climb? Maybe we can stick to the side."

Fatty looked at the iron pick in his hand and immediately nodded: "Ok, let's go." We lay down again and immediately began to roll and crawl. Fatty had obviously sped up, proving that fear was the primary motivation of mankind.

We had only been going for a while when suddenly something fell beside us. Fatty used the flashlight and we saw that it was a bone. He then proceeded to move the light to the roof of the cave again. With a glance, we saw many corpses sticking to the ceiling and the bodies looked as if they had been flattened and glued there. At the same time, we found that the roof was shaking, and the bodies stuck on it were crumbling as debris fell from time to time.

The falling objects continued to sound like rain, and this time I heard very clearly that the sound seemed to be moving and approaching us quickly. Fatty shined his flashlight in that direction and we could already see vaguely that the bodies were being knocked down by something. A huge shadow hung upside down on the ceiling, looming under the flashlight.

Now I was certain that this seemed to be a feeding ground. All the animals that entered the ventilation and light shafts would eventually be brought here and disposed of by whatever was here, but we just didn't know what it is.

Son of a bitch, why didn't Ghost tell us more about this? If I knew that there was such a fucking mechanism here, at least I wouldn't be so quick to fall into such a simple trap. If we had been more careful, we might've entered the ancient building by now.

As I scolded in my heart, I suddenly felt very desperate. Judging from the situation around us and the size of this thing, it was impossible to run. Even on a level road, we wouldn't be able to outrun it. Were we also going to be flattened by this thing on the ceiling? In this state, it seemed impossible to have a more dignified death.

Previous experience told us that we had to hold on until the last moment, no matter what. Fatty handed me the iron picks, which used to be used by emperors in the Qing Dynasty. At most, the iron picks could be used to prod a widow to death, or prod some unlucky rich men that were roused from their sleep at midnight. Although this stuff wasn't easy to sell, it was still an antique and I wanted to take it back for a souvenir. But I didn't think it would be necessary to use such a thing to fight now, and I was lucky it was very sharp. Met with this, the other party wouldn't be too happy.

Fatty didn't have much ammo for his gun, so we stepped on the half-bent skeleton chassis and waited for that thing to approach. In doing so, we could at least choose whether to jump out and try to escape or take the opportunity to fight back when it first attacked.

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