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墨書 Inktalez
Jack expressionlessly changed the magazine, pointing the muzzle toward the sky, the stock resting on his shoulder. "Let's begin."
I glanced at what Fatty was holding, a thought forming in my mind: 'You two are devils.'
I didn't step out because I knew that in this round, only the demon Genius could survive. But it was also possible that even the devils wouldn't make it.
Tang Yumo stared blankly at Jack and Fatty. Perhaps she thought she had escaped the most dangerous area, as her rowing became noticeably slower. But I knew better; having a devilish teammate meant we had to think like devils. Moreover, there were two of them now.
"Don't stop. Row with all your strength. The next ten seconds could determine our lives." I shouted this to emphasize the seriousness of the situation, then I swung the paddle with all my might.
Fatty held a White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade and a Glow Stick. I knew exactly what they were planning; I was just surprised by their seamless coordination—truly a pair of devils.
I faced the bow of the boat, my eyes fixed on Jack, who was focused like a wooden carving. Meanwhile, I calculated Fatty's steps and how much time we had left.
With a soft thud above my head, green light began to flow down like water, resembling strings of shiny pearls or obedient fireflies, sticking to my hair and clothes. It made me feel as if I radiated divine brilliance. Of course, Tang Yumo beside me now looked like a saintess glowing with light.
I understood this was just the first step; Fatty had smashed the Glow Stick and smeared its fluorescent agent onto the White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade. The glowing substance splattered onto both me and Tang Yumo—whether intentionally or not by Fatty. This step took very little time; I estimated it lasted only three seconds. Our boat hadn't picked up speed yet. Without Fatty, it was difficult for me and Tang Yumo to row quickly, especially during the acceleration phase. It was even harder.
The boat rocked violently, and Jack, kneeling on one leg at the bow, nearly lost his balance and fell. He swayed slightly but managed to steady himself, maintaining his aim with the gun.
Such a large movement must have been Fatty throwing the White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade. I knew time was running out for me, likely no more than ten seconds.
A loud "thud" echoed as Fatty fell into the cabin. The boat shook again, and then it accelerated.
Even though Fatty's paddle hadn't splashed into the water, the sound of it whizzing past my head ignited a flicker of hope within me. Of course, there was also fear; his paddle was nearly grazing my scalp as it flew back and forth. I worried that he might misjudge his swing and take off a piece of my head.
Fatty picked up the paddle again, just as I expected. What surprised me was Jack. He remained in his shooting stance, like a statue, and I could almost visualize the trajectory and height of the White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade. It should have been time to fire unless he changed his mind at the last moment. Was the pungent smell clouding his vision?
I knew this was a risky move that could completely free us from our current predicament. So when I realized what he was thinking, I didn’t voice any objections but instead went along with it. However, Jack's current state made my heart twist once more.
It felt like waiting for execution as a death row inmate; the anticipation was the most torturous part.
“Tap tap tap.” “Bang!”
The sudden gunfire struck my heart like a hammer, causing my body to involuntarily twitch.
The bullets did not cease their onslaught due to the explosion of the White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade; even after the magazine emptied, Jack maintained his shooting posture.
I sensed he might be stunned by the scene before him. Of course, that was just a guess; I had no time to look back and no courage to do so either. Fatty's paddle continued to whirl above my head without pause. Lowering my head was bearable, but looking up at that blade slicing through the air tested my nerves too much. I had no intention of enduring this torment.
"Shit," Jack cursed in his native language.
I immediately knew something had gone wrong with their actions. To let Fatty know how he felt, Jack had gotten used to expressing his emotions in Chinese most of the time. This time, however, he blurted out an English curse, which clearly indicated that he had lost control of his emotions and that the situation must be dire.
In the next moment, Jack discarded his M16 rifle and pulled a paddle from the cabin, turning around to join the rowing team.
Jack's movements were frantic, revealing his nervousness even more than the expression on his face. When he pulled the paddle from near the side of the boat, his movements were stiff and rough. As he drew it out, the blade of the paddle scraped against my waist like a dull knife, causing me to wince in pain. He didn’t react at all, as if he hadn’t seen my expression.
Of course, I could clearly see the panic on his face, just as he could see my wince of pain. The White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade not only produced a tremendous amount of heat but also emitted a blinding light. At present, most White Phosphorus was used in signal flares; incendiary devices were generally prohibited from using White Phosphorus due to its terrifying and uncontrollable lethality.
At this moment, I couldn’t yet feel the heat generated by the White Phosphorus Incendiary Grenade, but its overwhelming brightness was impossible to escape. The entire space was as clear as day within my line of sight, as if a sun had appeared in the Underground Cavern or a nuclear bomb had detonated.
Everything before me was too clear and bright; I could even see the shadows cast on Jack's face by the light. In such bright light, how could I possibly miss his expression?
However, throughout this process, aside from that one English word, Jack didn’t say anything else. I could only gauge our predicament from the panic and frustration on his face.
Jack’s participation—meaning his rowing—made the boat speed up again and become more orderly.
Jack and I rowed on the left side of the boat while Fatty no longer had to keep switching sides. He and Tang Yumo rowed on the right side. The boat surged steadily and swiftly toward the other side of the Underground River.
The rowing was synchronized, with the four of us almost perfectly in time with each other. It took me a moment to realize that our strokes matched the constant stream of curses from Fatty, as if he were calling out commands through his swearing.
Fatty's oar was no longer swinging above my head, giving me a brief moment to catch my breath and an opportunity to glance back at what had actually happened.
However, I still had to focus most of my energy and strength on rowing, so I could only spare a quick look over my shoulder.
But that glance turned out to be much longer than I expected.
(To Be Continued...)
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