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墨書 Inktalez
He is a Survivor!
His strength is astonishing. How could a boy from the mountains possess such power? However, with the entire village dead and only he remaining unharmed, it would be even stranger if he didn't have some unique constitution.
The boy's face is streaked with tears, but upon closer inspection, one can easily see that he is exceptionally handsome. He is not very tall, with a dark brown complexion and well-defined muscles, resembling a typical farm boy. Yet his features are strikingly beautiful; his large, bright black eyes are innocent yet not naive, giving him an endearing appearance.
"Don't be afraid, it's all over now," Nie Qiuyuan said as he set down the branch in his hand. "Is this your home? What happened here?"
"This is my home," the boy gradually stopped crying, sniffling as he spoke. "How could this happen..."
"What happened here? You don't know?"
The boy shook his head in confusion.
"I don't know... It was raining today, so I couldn't go outside. I was just sitting on the bed in this room. But then I smelled something very sweet. I wanted to get up and see where the smell was coming from, but I couldn't stand up at all. Then I felt dizzy and fell asleep. When I just woke up, I found that everyone was dead!"
Alas, it seems that although this child is a Survivor, he knows nothing about the mystery of the villagers' deaths.
Nevertheless, the boy's words provide some clues. For instance, when the incident occurred, he smelled a sweet fragrance that could cause unconsciousness; it must have been some kind of drug. However, there were no toxins found on the bodies—what could that mean?
With the entire village dead and only this child remaining, whose remarkable trait is his extraordinary strength, one wonders if this characteristic is related to his narrow escape from disaster. If so, what is that connection?
Regardless of what the answer may be, this crying boy has awakened to find all his family and familiar faces gone—this is no small nightmare! It is truly pitiful.
I pulled the boy closer and gently wiped away his tears with my sleeve, asking kindly, "What is your name?"
"Hongxi," the boy replied.
"Hongxi," I said, pulling his hand, "once someone is dead, they cannot come back to life. Don't be too sad. Let's go with us for now. Whoever killed your family will eventually be revealed."
The boy gradually calmed down and finally nodded.
Leaving him alone here was clearly not a good idea. The best course of action was to take him to the county and have the authorities take care of him properly. Besides, Hongxi was the only survivor of this tragic incident, and he would surely be helpful in uncovering the truth behind the case.
But were these people really "murdered"? What could have caused such a peculiar way of dying?
The rain gradually stopped, and the thunder ceased as well. We easily found an umbrella in the house.
"Wait here for us," Nie Qiuyuan said as he settled Hongxi down, instructing him not to leave the room. Then he took me outside to patrol the village.
As soon as my foot stepped out the door, I suddenly felt a sharp, piercing pain in the sole of my foot, and I couldn't help but let out a yelp as I fell down.
Nie Qiuyuan quickly reached out and caught me, helping me sit on the threshold. I lifted my foot to look and found that I had stepped on a nail.
Actually, it wasn't just a nail; it was a strange metal object with sharp spikes, about the size of a jujube (I hadn't even seen it before stepping on it; my eyes must have been blind...). Yes, I had seen something like this in martial arts films; it seemed to be an ancient concealed weapon known as the "Iron Thorn"!
Nie Qiuyuan swiftly pressed on an acupoint on my leg and pulled out a handkerchief to remove the concealed weapon in one swift motion. I let out another cry of pain, but this time I was prepared; although it hurt, my scream wasn't too loud—rather endearing, actually. The handsome man didn't care much about that; he simply took off my shoes and socks.
He held my foot in his hands and began to massage it. This intimate moment made my face flush instantly, causing me to forget about the pain. However, his focus was not on that; he squeezed some blood from the wound and suddenly sighed in relief.
"It's not poisoned," he said, his expression easing slightly as he wrapped my injury tightly with the handkerchief and personally put my shoes and socks back on.
His actions were so natural and smooth that I felt embarrassed for blushing.
What exactly was this thing? I watched Nie Qiuyuan pick up the "weapon" and examine it closely, feeling puzzled inside. How could a peaceful village have concealed weapons? Did this strange object have anything to do with the villagers' deaths? But there were no signs of concealed weapon injuries on them. Moreover, they all died from asphyxiation—who had ever seen someone suffocated by a concealed weapon? Could it be that they choked on one while eating? Oh my gosh, what was I thinking...
As I pondered, I would unconsciously lift my head to glance around after a while. This action is quite common among top students, as spending too long with one's head down while studying can lead to neck fatigue and potential cervical issues. However, when I propped my chin on my hand and looked up, an unexpected discovery immediately sent a chill down my spine.
Directly in front of me, on the upper part of a large tree, was a straight row of Iron Thorns, identical to the one that had pierced my foot.
Since they were positioned high up in the tree canopy, it was genuinely difficult to notice them without deliberately looking up. I glanced at several nearby trees and realized, oh my gosh, each tree had Iron Thorns!
However, the arrangement of Iron Thorns on each tree was different; they seemed to form various patterns—some vertical, some horizontal, some square, and some circular. Clearly, these were not just random projectiles; they had been deliberately nailed in place.
It was truly a chilling discovery. I tugged at Nie Qiuyuan's sleeve and pointed out this terrifying sight to him. We wandered around the Village again and found that most of the trees bore these ominous objects.
A shiver ran down my spine. I had seen such scenes on television before—people skilled in witchcraft using strange items arranged in specific formations to summon disasters that resulted in inexplicable mass deaths. This was black magic!
But that was something from horror movies, mere superstition! Could such things really exist?
We also conducted a rough examination of the corpses in the Village. As a secondary assistant detective, I thought it wouldn't hurt to take a closer look at the bodies myself; it could even showcase my courage and earn me points with my crush, In My Heart. After contemplating this, I mimicked Nie Qiuyuan's approach and began inspecting the corpses beside him.
As expected, the external characteristics and causes of death were almost identical—no signs of strangulation or any other form of suffocation.
I unbuttoned the clothing of each corpse and examined them carefully from head to toe. Upon closer inspection, I indeed noticed some peculiarities.
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