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墨書 Inktalez
Between the seventh and eighth floors, there was a narrow gap, with smooth and clean cement surfaces all around, even featuring reflective strips to guide the way. Song Bunan crawled through this space, occasionally catching a fleeting glimpse of a shadow ahead. However, whenever he encountered a fork in the path, the direction of the shadow was always opposite to that indicated by the reflective strips.
He hesitated at the first intersection, contemplating whether to trust the ghost or follow the human guidance, which seemed more rational. But after carefully observing his surroundings, he decided it would be safer to trust the ghost.
On the path indicated by the reflective strips, there were dark spots scattered about, resembling droplets. Song Bunan instinctively dipped his finger into one and sniffed it; the smell of rust and decay confirmed it was blood. The damp and dark environment meant it was normal for the blood not to have dried up. Disgusted, he wiped it on what appeared to be a clean section of wall and continued crawling in the direction of the ghost.
Each subsequent intersection provided guidance, with only the upper part of the figure visible in the dim light, creating a horror movie atmosphere. He wondered if someone looking from below would see a body floating vertically against the ceiling. Shaking his head to dispel such thoughts, he stifled a laugh that felt inappropriate for the moment.
Xin Yi surely couldn't see the ghost. Judging by some bloodstains that had been rubbed away on the ground, if he had crawled up here, it should have been in the direction indicated by the reflective strips. Song Bunan pursed his lips and took out his phone, only to find there was no signal. In fact, it seemed that as soon as they entered Mighty Falcon Building, all signal had vanished.
He was certain that Xin Yi had self-preservation skills. Putting aside his thoughts, he continued following the guidance until he reached an opening that led downward. There was no light at all below; it seemed like an endless abyss. Before arriving at the building, they had estimated potential emergencies and packed flashlights and some emergency medical supplies in their work pants. However, in such a place, having glow sticks would greatly enhance their safety.
In his hesitation, the grinning ghost reappeared. This time they faced each other directly. Although Song Bunan wasn't afraid, he was startled by the sudden appearance of a face. Perhaps his reaction was too exaggerated; the ghost's smile widened significantly, and he even sensed a hint of mockery in it.
The face belonged to someone he had never seen before—a bald figure whose gender was indiscernible. Though smiling, their mouth remained closed; their lips seemed almost torn back to their ears. With pure gray eyes and white skin, they exuded an unsettling aura.
Song Bunan raised his hand to block the light from his flashlight and met the ghost's gaze as he asked why it had led him here. The ghost's lips moved slightly as indistinct words emerged: it claimed to be entrusted by those spirits in Mighty Falcon to wait for him to uncover secrets.
He instantly understood who they were and quickly asked where they were now. The ghost's smile faded slightly as it replied that they had already been taken by Ghost Messenger. This was an outcome he had anticipated; Song Bunan accepted it without hesitation. No longer hesitating, he wedged his flashlight against his shoulder and jumped down.
It had been quite clever to pack a mini crossbow before leaving. Song Bunan equipped himself on the spot and turned on his flashlight to investigate further. The walls in this area were coated with special paint that absorbed light rather than reflecting it; thus, it barely illuminated anything beyond his feet—his once-proud night vision now rendered useless.
The ghost vanished just as he jumped down; no matter how creatively Song Bunan called out for it afterward, it did not reappear, leaving him alone to wander aimlessly inside.
This place was designed like a maze; combined with the peculiar paint's effects, he found himself colliding with walls due to visual fatigue without realizing it. He had already bumped into walls four times—each time thinking he had turned a corner correctly. The first impact was the hardest; after that thud, he crouched down holding his head for quite some time before recovering.
Learning from experience, he began testing corners with his hands before stepping forward to confirm there was indeed a path ahead. Unfortunately, despite being so cautious, he still fell for tricks—the designer had created many illusions, such as walls that appeared recessed; although his hands couldn't touch them when he walked past, he would still crash into them perfectly.
Song Bunan looked at his clothes and found them covered in paint splatters. He comforted himself, thinking it was a good thing he had changed into an old dark T-shirt before heading out; if he had worn something light-colored, it would have driven him crazy.
After several turns, Song Bunan realized he had completely lost his sense of direction. Even turning back the way he came proved impossible. He had been wandering around for quite a while, and despite the dimming beam of his flashlight, he still couldn't find any useful information. He began to ponder the possibility that the ghost had been deceiving him.
Those who reflect on themselves take a deep breath to calm their minds and proceed more carefully. He kicked the wall beside him, trying to find a hidden door or something placed low to the ground. To save battery, he turned off his flashlight and continued to feel his way forward.
The entire space was eerily quiet; he could clearly hear his own breathing and heartbeat. Occasionally, he would make some noise, hoping to hear an echo, but each time he was met with silence. The walls seemed to absorb not just light but sound as well.
What was the purpose of creating such a place? Song Bunan wondered. He had heard that some people in the world of funerary affairs built similar places to protect their treasures and secrets from intruders, but those places typically contained other mechanisms and hidden paths to confuse anyone who dared enter. Or perhaps he had simply fallen behind on many things?
Maybe this was a test, one where even the creator didn't know where it would lead, hoping that someone like him would accept the challenge and try to break through. But the Mighty Falcon building had been completed many years ago; creating such a complex space afterward wouldn't be easy. Could it be that this place had been targeted long before the building was constructed? Yet, he hadn't heard any rumors about it, Song Bunan frowned.
He no longer felt the initial excitement he had when he jumped down, now just feeling his way along the wall as he moved forward, occasionally calling out softly to the ghost to see if there would be any response. The path beneath his feet was flat; after walking for so long, he hadn't encountered any steps or slopes—except for occasional areas with a strong sense of obstruction; otherwise, everything felt normal.
Song Bunan began to wonder if the pitch-black environment was affecting his perception of time. It felt like he had been walking for ages, yet when he checked his phone, only three to five minutes had passed. He started to feel anxious, sensing that something was obstructing his judgment.
Sitting on the ground, he turned off his flashlight and focused on calming himself to sense everything around him. He recalled how Shui Su and Xiao Mei had taught him methods to enhance his senses; now it seemed those lessons were finally coming into play. Without subjective distractions, he could clearly detect the movement of air in the silence—a slight breeze coming from one direction.
He stood up slowly and moved forward at a snail's pace, stopping with each step to confirm his orientation. He started a timer on his phone and waited until he reached the source of the wind before checking again; it took nearly half an hour. The surroundings remained pitch black, but where the wind emerged revealed faint glimmers of light—likely from an opening.
As soon as his flashlight illuminated the area, that eerie smiling face appeared again from above, silently descending and causing Song Bunan to shiver once more. He cursed aloud, which made the ghost's smile vanish instantly; it shot him an annoyed glare.
"Can you act normal for once?" He retorted defiantly, reaching out as if to slap its head. The ghost turned and disappeared into a hole in the wall; clearly, that was where his journey would end.
According to common practice for hidden doors, an automatic hinge would be the most likely option here. However, there seemed to be no triggering mechanism; it likely required pushing or pulling. He poked at the small hole with his finger and quickly determined that the obstacle in front of him was not as thick as he'd imagined.
Very good; this is quite accommodating.
He got up, ready to kick, and with a powerful strike, the sound of shattering glass was followed by a burst of light. The glow from the old light bulb was not blinding, but for someone who had spent so long in darkness, it was still a challenge. He shielded his eyes and took a moment to adjust before he could clearly see the interior.
It was a small room piled with paper documents, with haphazardly stacked boxes covered in dust. Some showed signs of having been handled recently. A ghost stood in front of a stack of documents, casually gesturing for him to pay attention to it before disappearing again.
Song Bunan could not discern where this ghost came from. Knowing that it had its own unique temperament, he stopped asking if it was still there. After sincerely expressing his gratitude, he began to examine the stack of documents, and the contents were quite unexpected.
The initial goal of the Mighty Falcon was similar to that of the Multi-City Alliance's peacekeeping team. It was established by influential figures from several cities who decided to form a group that would handle tasks that households found inconvenient for a fee. However, due to internal management disagreements, it gradually declined until the people from Rongcheng decided to accept this organization and relocate it there.
The building itself was an old structure that several prominent families in the city used as a storage facility, each storing their belongings and keeping each other in check. After the Mighty Falcon settled in Rongcheng, everyone generously relinquished their claims, using those smaller buildings as a foundation to construct a larger one. No one knew how many secret passages existed within.
The former executives of the Mighty Falcon did not want to give up this lucrative opportunity. After much discussion, they reached a consensus to divide the team into three departments. The so-called Heavenly Department was where they themselves operated, keeping their identities secret from those below; Renbu was managed by their trusted associates, serving as mutual surveillance to ensure no one harbored ulterior motives; while the Earth Department consisted entirely of workers who were left to act freely as long as they completed their tasks.
Since then, the Mighty Falcon surprisingly experienced no further turmoil. It established a firm foothold in Rongcheng and became a well-known mercenary organization; as long as the money was right, anything could be done.
It was precisely because of the establishment of the Mighty Falcon that one family in the city lost part of its business and was quickly suppressed by several others within just a few years. Due to their decline in power, rivals came seeking revenge, and they seemed to vanish overnight.
Rumors circulated that survivors from that family were plotting revenge; however, these whispers were as elusive as smoke. For many years, only countless wild tales circulated without any concrete action being taken.
Not long after that family disappeared, the concept of the Stealing Life Experiment was officially proposed and quickly began with support from outside the city.
Song Bunan did not believe these two events were unrelated.
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