Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
I felt the Pavement begin to emit more intense vibrations, more violent than when the Piranha School was chasing and tearing apart the Giant Bat. The boiling water even splashed over to us, with the overturned boat above us reflecting the fiery glow of the Pavement. The flickering light danced in the capsized cabin space, casting a red hue on our faces that should have indicated excitement, yet each expression was marked by fear.
Indeed, our faces should have been pale and ashen. I could imagine the chaos and frenzy that must be engulfing the Piranha School.
Around us, White Phosphorus Residue was falling more densely. It plunged into the water under gravity, extinguishing flames as it sank, trailing a bizarre white tail that seemed to alter the water's density and refract light strangely.
The specific gravity of White Phosphorus is greater than that of water, but not by much, which meant its descent was not rapid. The tail behind it expanded quickly as it sank slowly, forming a translucent conical body in the upper layer of the river, about two meters deep.
As more White Phosphorus Fireworks fell into the water, the upper layer of the river began to turn opaque. The Pavement was likely shrouded in steam rising from the scorching White Phosphorus, and our boat's space quickly darkened. The red and white light refracted from the water transformed into a gray-brown hue, resembling not flames but rather a piece of iron pulled from a furnace, cooled to emit a reddish-brown glow.
One could only imagine how hot the air near the Pavement must be. In this chaotic scene where the Piranha School was frantically tearing apart and devouring the Giant Bat, their situation must be dire. They thrashed about in the river with even greater desperation, causing waves that reached us—not merely out of fear of the White Phosphorus Fireworks. I surmised it was likely they had been scorched by falling White Phosphorus Fireworks while competing for food, igniting instantly. The burning white scales could kill a Piranha in mere moments if not quickly isolated from air.
At this moment, beneath the Underground River Pavement, countless dead Piranha and Giant Bat must be littering that stretch of water. Their corpses burned with faint blue flames, emitting acrid smoke that smelled like charred meat as they welcomed more descending White Phosphorus Fireworks. The sticky residue coated these bodies, intensifying their flames and enhancing the aroma of roasted meat.
The scent of roasting flesh attracted even more Piranha, turning that section of Pavement into a massive banquet—a feast of death.
What I could think of, others surely could as well. Gripping the boards at the bottom of the boat, we all instinctively curled our legs up to minimize contact with the water. Fatty's crimson eyes glowed faintly as he continuously searched beneath the surface. He wasn't alone in this; his eyes were simply larger and redder than anyone else's, reflecting dim light as they moved.
We were all worried that the Piranha School might launch a frenzied attack on us. Although we were situated in an area with higher concentrations of irritants—one that the Piranha School would typically avoid—at this moment, they seemed to have lost control, and we were too close to their feeding ground.
"Let's get out of here." To mask my own fear, I uttered a line reminiscent of something from a movie.
My suggestion received immediate agreement from everyone as if they had been waiting for me to say it.
In the dim space, Fatty pointed in one direction: "Row that way; it'll get us away from the Piranha School fastest and with less effort."
I was so nervous that I could no longer feel the direction of the water flow. By the time we reached the Underground River, the current had slowed to a point where it was difficult to perceive; we needed floating objects to determine its direction. Fatty indicated that we should go downstream, toward the riverbank. Logically, as long as we weren't making a significant mistake in direction, we could use the current to escape from the Piranha School more quickly.
"You’re not thinking too deeply, are you? Just focused on how to run away," I teased Fatty.
Fatty chuckled. "Clearly, I'm quick on my feet and have a strong sense of direction. You’ve already turned, haven’t you?"
I wasn't in the mood for banter. I sensed that Fatty's indicated direction was likely correct; at least it wasn’t heading toward the Piranha School’s dining area. I nodded and noticed that several people were unresponsive, only then realizing that the overturned cabin space had grown darker, and body language could no longer convey information.
"Alright, let’s paddle that way. We're too close to the Piranha School; it makes me uneasy."
Fatty and Jack rushed to the front of the boat, pushing it forward. The cabin space inverted on the pavement was quite cramped; both of them were tall, and as they leaned over the pavement, their kicking feet nearly reached the back of the boat.
Tang Yumo and I were almost kicked back to the rear of the boat by their movements. Fortunately, there were three rows of fixed boards in the cabin that were originally meant for sitting while rowing. Now, Tang Yumo and I clung to the last board, kicking our legs to propel the boat forward. In reality, our legs were already outside of the boat's coverage.
I could tell that Fatty's indicated direction was correct. Although it was still dim inside the cabin, the burning boat illuminated our surroundings. In the flickering firelight, I noticed that the river water was becoming clearer and I could gradually sense less of a bloody trace.
As we moved further away from the Piranha School, my mood did not lighten at all because we were facing new troubles.
The increased physical exertion accelerated oxygen consumption in our confined space. I could clearly feel difficulty breathing; no matter how hard I tried to inhale, it didn’t alleviate my sense of suffocation. I even began to struggle for breath; what filled my lungs wasn’t air but fire, burning within me and causing a tearing pain.
We all stopped simultaneously. In the faint light, everyone’s faces bore a faint purple hue; even Tang Yumo's porcelain-like face showed hints of blue and purple. We were severely lacking oxygen.
"Your turn. How do we get out?" I asked Jack at lightning speed.
Jack raised one hand with his palm facing up.
"Flip over."
At the same time, my palm turned face down.
I exchanged a knowing glance with Fatty. We conveyed the same message: this guy is really unreliable.
What good is this method? The problem is that it won't work!
Out there, if you want to flip the boat over, you can exert all your strength. There’s always a way to turn the boat upside down.
But here, inside this overturned boat, there’s no point of leverage.
It’s just like someone once said: give me a fulcrum, and I can move the Earth.
The problem is, we don’t have that fulcrum.
(To Be Continued...)
Comment 0 Comment Count