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墨書 Inktalez
At that moment, Fatty returned and resolutely shook his head at me as soon as he walked in. So, Xiao Ting could be ruled out.
There was no need to count on my fingers; it was obvious that there were only a few of us, and we could easily squeeze into one room to sleep. The problem did not lie with us.
Fatty dragged a chair back to sit across from me, mimicking my posture by leaning forward and silently staring into my eyes: "Someone is targeting you. It started with Zhenfeng."
I wasn't surprised that he could connect the dots regarding what happened at Zhenfeng. All the sharpest and most unbelievable events pointed towards me. Even the leader of the Hakka People had specifically mentioned negotiating with me instead of putting pressure on Fatty, who was under the most stress. It seemed that my Protagonist Aura had become so glaringly obvious that it couldn't be blocked, even from behind walls or mountains.
I nodded helplessly. "In this village, it's very likely that I have an acquaintance. I don't believe my name would come up without reason. There are no traitors among us; the person who revealed my name might have arrived here before you and Xiao Ting. We need to find him; otherwise, we might not be able to leave here—at least not me."
Fatty maintained his forward-leaning position, staring into my eyes: "Could it be... an old acquaintance of yours?"
I interrupted him. "Don't jump to conclusions. That will cloud our judgment. We can't leave here for now; this village isn't large, and I don't believe we can't find the reason or the person scheming against me."
I knew who Fatty was referring to. Although that name raised the most suspicions, I preferred to believe it was someone else with different motives. I couldn't accept that this person was plotting against me, and I believed he had no reason to do so.
I shared my suspicions with Fatty in general terms, focusing mainly on those who might want to obstruct my short-term actions.
"Who has the ability to follow from Zhenfeng to here? Who wouldn't want me to complete the transaction with Xiao Guolin? Clearly, the Vietnamese are the most suspicious."
Fatty's big eyes turned in the dim light as he shook his head silently: "It wasn't the Vietnamese Gang. If they wanted you dead, they had better opportunities than now; at least in Laos, they would have a higher chance of getting rid of you. Also, you overestimate the Vietnamese Gang's strength; they may be arrogant in Southeast Asia, but their influence is limited to that region. Their reach doesn't extend into China, let alone this far into Chinese territory; otherwise, they wouldn't need your help with tomb raiding."
"I know it wasn't Wu Qitai; he needs me. At least until the tomb raiding operation is over, he won't act against me. But do you think the Vietnamese Gang is united? Wu Qitai needs my help digging things up—what about Jackal? There are others who don't need me. If they wanted to sabotage Wu Qitai's plans, eliminating me would be the simplest way."
Fatty fell silent. My suspicion was quite plausible and worth seriously considering along this line of thought.
I leaned forward over the table, the room dimly lit, and Fatty's face was almost lost in shadow; I had to get closer to see him clearly.
As I organized my thoughts, I mouthed to him, "In the eyes of the Vietnamese, my position should be quite important. Well... it can actually be quite subtle. If they don't want to go through with the deal with Xiao Guolin, all they have to do is take me out, and that deal would automatically be canceled. I believe the ones secretly targeting me are a faction within the Vietnamese Gang; they don't want this deal to continue. It could also be Wu Qitai's rivals trying to sabotage this tomb raiding operation."
At this point, a chill ran down my spine. Damn it, why does every analysis lead me to a dead end? In both scenarios, I played a key role and would surely become a stumbling block for someone.
Fatty gestured towards A San, who was leaning against the wall. "We might pry something out of him."
I reached out and pressed down on his arm. "He's just a lackey, the dead Vietnamese. You know we lost someone, right? That person was a leader in the Vietnamese Gang. If he were alive, you might have been able to get something from him. As for A San, don't waste your effort; he won't know any more than we do."
Maybe A San could know something, but I feared Fatty would scare him to death. Even if I needed to ask him something, I planned to do it when Fatty wasn't around.
"Let's divide our tasks. We can't leave here in the short term, so let's use this time to find the person leaking our information in the Village." Fatty regained his composure. "You are their target; don't act alone. Either stay here or stick with me. This faction has likely bribed the Hakka People and could strike at any moment."
I nodded; A San's revelation filled me with dread. Not knowing the true identity of the hidden enemy made staying inside feel safer; I didn't want to die in confusion.
"Let Buasong check on the damage to the Zip Line; anyway, his Laos dialect is incomprehensible to the Hakka People, so there's no risk of him leaking information. I don't trust a word from that old fox."
I shook my head and interrupted Fatty.
"This isn't necessary. The Hakka People must have already taken precautions; it wouldn't matter who goes to check; no one would spot any flaws." Suddenly remembering something, I asked Fatty, "The Lao People shouted a word on the way here that sounded very fearful—Guman Tong. What does it mean?"
Fatty thought for a moment before asking me, "Under what circumstances did he shout it?"
I recounted what had happened when we first entered the Valley.
After listening, Fatty looked surprised. "Your story is quite fascinating; you encountered so many strange things."
His words immediately caught my attention, and I asked him in astonishment, "You haven't encountered any monsters?"
Fatty shook his head. "Maybe you all are just lucky."
"Dammit!" I couldn't help but exclaim. Fat Man was just asking for trouble.
"I was only troubled by locusts for a while, and it wasn't long. I mainly struggled with the muck in the swamp. I really envy your experiences."
I frowned. "Let's get to the point."
"Heh heh." Fatty laughed heartily. "Well, this thing is quite similar to Chinese Taoism practices of raising spirits; it's officially consecrated but still quite sinister. Guman Tong is most prevalent in Thailand, and various Southeast Asian countries have their own versions of this thing. As for whether it brings good luck to the owner, who knows?"
However, what Lao People referred to as Guman Tong is likely a variant. The Lao Mountain People have a more incredible method of creating Guman Tong. I’m not sure about the specifics, but from what I know, this type of Guman Tong is closer to our own practices of raising spirits; it can grow and eventually turn on its master, which should be called backlash. Once it backlashes against its master, it can leave the host body and become a wild ghost."
"Unbelievable," I muttered. (To Be Continued...)
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