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墨書 Inktalez
Jack's backpack contained a bottle of medical alcohol. His first aid kit was intact and unopened. I seemed calm as I opened the kit, laying out the alcohol, disinfectant cotton, bandages, and other supplies on the ground. However, my hands trembled involuntarily. I had the will to act, but I couldn't bear the thought of him possibly dying in my hands.
As I worked, I silently reminded myself: Stay calm, stay calm...
I needed to steady my mind; any mistake could hasten Jack's departure from this world.
I used a bit of alcohol to ignite the alcohol stove and disinfect the dagger. The heat quickly transferred to my hand; the blade must have been very hot, enough to cause burns.
My first target was the fist-sized tuber that I had severed from the vine. It was the closest and there were no swaying vines to hinder my actions.
I chose not to cut at the connection between the tuber and his skin. I felt that if I made a cut there, it would simply lead to excessive bleeding that would catch me off guard. I didn't have time to deal with heavy bleeding; it was best to remove all seven protruding tubers from Jack's back as quickly as possible before tending to his wounds, including stopping any bleeding.
The brown tuber wasn't hard but had a lot of resilience. When my knife went in, it felt like cutting into rubber. Moreover, the deeper I went, the greater the resistance became; it seemed that the blade's heat was more effective against it.
But I didn't have time to heat the knife; I couldn't afford to waste time roasting it—if I took too long cutting this tuber, Jack would be gone.
I hesitated before inserting the knife under Jack's skin since this tuber was protruding quite high. My dagger lay flat against Jack's back as I inserted it into the tuber. The length of the dagger was sufficient to slice off the protrusion, but its resilience was too strong. The dagger couldn't fully penetrate; it felt somewhat stuck.
With another push, the knife went in a little further, but Jack's skin stretched and deformed. The connection between the tuber and his skin appeared very firm with no signs of cracking; instead, the outer skin had torn open a small gash.
I realized at a glance that brute force wouldn't work here. If I didn't manage to cut off the tuber first, I'd end up stripping away a layer of Jack's skin instead. If one stab didn’t reach deep enough, I could make several more cuts. But when I tried to pull back the knife, I found myself stunned—it seemed like this tuber secreted some kind of slime that glued my dagger in place. It might also be that I'd inserted it too deeply and trapped the blade. In any case, it wouldn’t come out.
This left me in a dilemma; I couldn’t afford to waste time battling with it—every second that passed diminished Jack’s chances of survival. After silently observing the tuber for a moment, I decided to take a risk and try something new.
The Tuber was bald and somewhat resembled a Yurt. I had cut away the vine-like things on top of it. The evidence of it piercing my wrist remained; there was still blood on my wrist. Gritting my teeth, I reached out with my left hand to grab its surface.
This thing wasn't very large, and it felt quite elastic when I grasped it. My fingers sank slightly into it with pressure. Holding onto it created a certain weight in my heart. I hadn't struck it earlier because I was worried about getting hurt again. It could take root in Jack just as easily as it could parasitize me, and that thought sent chills down my spine.
But there was no time to dwell on that now. I firmly secured it with my left hand and applied force with my right hand towards the blade of the dagger. With a 'slicing' sound, I cut a gash at its root, twisting my wrist to perform a circumcision. The protrusion on Jack's back was completely severed.
I shook my hand to discard the severed part and looked under the One-Eyed Beast Flashlight with my left hand. Fortunately, there were no signs of being drilled or pierced in my palm. It seemed that after cutting off the section of vine with the tendrils, this thing had lost its means of attack.
The cut surface left on Jack's back was about the size of a bowl, pink in color, resembling a bowl of translucent jelly. There were no visible muscle tissues or fat; I knew that Jack's subcutaneous tissue had been completely destroyed, and not even a drop of blood flowed out.
I feared I would have to continue cutting until all the damaged tissue was removed, exposing Jack's original muscle structure. Thankfully, Jack was in a coma and wouldn't react to this. I thought that if he were conscious, he wouldn't be able to bear the pain; just witnessing this scene would be enough to terrify anyone. Who could endure having vines growing all over their body?
The pink tissue not only looked like jelly but also broke apart like jelly when sliced through. I carefully scraped away these jelly-like tissues, being extremely cautious as I didn't want to cut into Jack's flesh.
After scraping off a thin layer, something flashed at the center of the bowl-sized cut, almost like an eye blinking. My expression became focused as I leaned in closer; that blinking eye nearly startled my chin off.
I suddenly jerked my face back to create distance, and if my legs hadn't gone weak at that moment, I would have surely screamed and jumped up.
This unexpected event shocked me greatly. Since my legs were too weak to jump up, I reacted more drastically; my right hand thrust the dagger toward that blinking eye in an instant.
I guessed that I must have struck it accurately because at the moment the blade pierced down, the six writhing vines on Jack's back began to shake violently and frantically, like six clawed appendages with tendrils trying to catch the one who had stabbed it.
Even though my legs were still weak, I jumped up anyway. It wasn't just the violent thrashing of those vines that terrified me; at the same time they shook wildly, a piercing howl suddenly reached my ears. In such a quiet cave and under such tense circumstances, that jarring and abrupt sound nearly shattered my nerves. It was utterly terrifying.
"Ah..."
I estimated that this sound could reach the other side of the Underground River.
I had a One-Eyed Beast Flashlight clenched in my mouth, but it wasn't the one I had or Jack's. Neither of our Flashlights could fit in our mouths; no matter how much I wiped it, the taste would make me gag. We had a spare Flashlight in our backpack, which was well-sealed, and this one was clean.
Under the light of the Flashlight, I saw Jack's face turn toward me, though his eyes remained closed. Perhaps it was because his mouth was open too wide and his face was swollen, all the flesh seemed to be pushed up around his mouth. I hadn't expected him to be able to open his mouth that wide; it looked like a fist could fit inside.
It was a long note comparable to a Pavarotti aria.
After the long note ended, Jack's swollen face trembled as he said to me, "Zhang, be quick about it. Don't torture me with a dull knife. If it comes to it, just use the gun and put me out of my misery."
I paused for a moment. What the hell? Do you think I'm some kind of psychopathic killer? (To Be Continued...)
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