There was no smell of corpses on these people, yet they didn't look alive either. Supporting Hao Wenming, I slowly backed away with Xiao Heshang and the others. We had only taken a few steps when several of the "people" began to stand up, their eyes staring blankly in our direction.
Sun Fatty muttered, "Master Xiao, are those things human or ghosts?" As he spoke, he had already drawn his dagger and crossbow, gripping them tightly in both hands.
Xiao Heshang also pulled out his knitting-needle-like weapon, his eyes fixed on the rising figures. "Let's worry about whether they're human or ghosts later. Don't provoke them for now. We should get back to the hidden chamber," he said.
But despite his words, more and more of them were getting up, and almost all of them were staring right at us. A few had already begun slowly walking toward us.
Most of them were bare-chested, their expressions vacant. Their skin was deathly pale. Two of them had each lost an arm; the wounds were recently bandaged, blood still dripping slowly. One of them was the same one who had earlier called away the man in black with white hair.
Just as we reached the entrance to the hidden chamber, the one-armed man suddenly let out a long howl — "Aooooh!" It sounded like a signal. In an instant, all the risen figures began to converge on us. The ones closest opened their mouths to grotesque angles, revealing rows of blackened yellow teeth. A foul stench wafted from their mouths.
"Quick, get into the dark chamber!" Xiao Heshang shouted.
As he spoke, several of them charged. Po Jun raised his gun and fired. Bang! A bullet slammed into the forehead of the closest figure, knocking him flat on his back.
But before Po Jun could even catch his breath, the shot man began to stir again, shakily standing back up. A bullet hole gaped in his forehead, oozing red and white matter — and yet, he continued shambling toward us.
What the hell was going on? The Bureau's bullets were custom-made — whether living or dead, one shot should have been enough. But now it felt like we were in Resident Evil.
Just as the thing closed in again, a small crossbow bolt silently shot through the air and pierced the center of his forehead. This time, it worked. The figure collapsed again, twitching violently on the ground for a few seconds before finally dying for good.
After death, his body began to transform. His skin visibly loosened and aged; his hair all fell out in an instant. In mere seconds, a strong adult male had withered into a frail, decrepit corpse.
Sun Fatty dashed forward, snatching the crossbow bolt from the corpse's skull just before the next wave surged toward us. Sprinting back, he shouted to Xiao Heshang, "Master Xiao! That corpse turned into an old man — what the hell is going on here?"
Xiao Heshang had already figured out that Sun Fatty had accidentally released all of these "people." He was so furious he could've ground his teeth to dust, and snapped, "Back inside! We'll talk later!"
I had already helped Hao Wenming into the dark chamber. Po Jun and I searched the room but couldn't find anything suitable to barricade the entrance. In the end, Po Jun gritted his teeth, grabbed two of the golden spheres — one in each hand — and stormed out.
Xiao Heshang and Sun Fatty entered just in time to see Po Jun walk out with the spheres.
Xiao Heshang, unaware of Po Jun's capabilities, tried to stop him but failed. He turned to me and shouted, "Go get him back! There are too many of those undead out there. If they surround us, we're dead. We can at least hold them off in here… You two have lost your minds! What the hell are you doing with the spheres?"
"No time for nonsense, Old Xiao — grab one and help Po Jun reload the cannons!" I yelled as I followed after Po Jun, carrying two golden spheres myself.
Sun Fatty quickly caught on, clutching another one in both hands and sprinting after me.
Just as I expected, by the time Po Jun emerged, the nearest "person" was only fifteen or sixteen meters away and lunging at him.
Po Jun dropped one golden sphere at his feet and hurled the other straight at the figure's face.
Thud!
The figure's head vanished in a mist of blood, his body sent flying five or six meters. After a brief spasm, he finally stopped moving. Like the last one, his exposed skin began aging rapidly. These things died in reverse — aging only after death.
With a clean hit, Po Jun seized the momentum, picked up the golden sphere he'd just thrown, and hurled it with all his might at another one of the "people" approaching from behind. The target stood there, dull-eyed and unaware, making no attempt to dodge. With another thwack!, a flash of golden light burst forth, and the man was reduced to little more than a hollow torso. Po Jun's aim was slightly low this time—the man's body was driven downward, landing seated on the ground. Over a second later, a geyser of blood erupted from his neck.
As the second golden sphere flew, I rushed over and handed Po Jun two more. "Da Jun, here—just focus on throwing. We'll handle resupplying you with ammo."
Po Jun glanced at me, but before he could speak, a horde of the "people" had already surrounded us. The closest were just ten meters away. He had no time to aim, grabbed a sphere, and hurled it toward the densest part of the crowd.
This time, Po Jun had used every ounce of his strength. Like a bowling ball plowing through pins, the sphere knocked down seven or eight of them. Although many were toppled, few suffered critical injuries. The worst hit had his chest caved in—normally a fatal blow—but he simply rolled a few times, got up again, and continued charging at us.
Po Jun picked up another sphere, but I could see his strength was nearly spent. The muscles in his arms trembled slightly—those three throws had clearly drained him. As he prepared to throw again, I stopped him, snatched the golden sphere from his hands, and with all my strength, hurled it at the nearest attacker.
The moment the sphere left my hand, I didn't bother to watch the result. I grabbed Po Jun and turned to run. By then, we could feel the swarm of "people" right behind us—I even felt a cold hand brush against my back. I drew my short sword, ready to slash behind me, when an arrow whistled past my face and struck the one just behind me squarely in the head. He collapsed backward, convulsed for a few seconds, then stopped moving.
Fatty Sun had already abandoned the golden spheres. He quickly reloaded his crossbow and turned to run. Xiao Heshang stood at the secret room entrance, shouting, "Hurry back! We can still hold them off from here!" Hao Wenming, gritting his teeth, stood beside him with the hidden blade extended from his baton, ready to cover our retreat.
We were nearly back at the secret room, but more and more of the "people" kept gathering behind us. They no longer staggered as before—now they moved with startling speed. Over a hundred surged toward us like a pack. I knew in my heart that our pistols were no longer useful. Even if we made it back inside, with only Fatty Sun's dozen or so bolts and our short swords, we wouldn't last long. Unless Gao Fatty miraculously arrived in time, it would take a miracle for any of us to make it out alive.
Just then, a voice shouted angrily from behind the mob: "Look what you've done!"
A thunderous crash followed, as something barreled into the crowd, scattering the "people" left and right. In an instant, the pressure on our front lines vanished. Only a few were still pursuing us, the rest turning toward the source of the noise.
Fatty Sun suddenly spun around and fired another arrow, dropping one of the pursuers. I spun as well, driving my short sword straight into the mouth of another who had gotten too close. The blade pierced through his skull and emerged from the back of his head. I twisted the blade to the left, cleaving off half his face in one fluid motion. A spray of pinkish-red liquid splattered across the floor. I followed up with a powerful kick to his chest, sending him sprawling. He twitched a few times, then lay still.
At last, we had a brief moment of safety. Xiao Heshang stared wide-eyed at the center of the crowd, where a white-haired man in black clothes rampaged back and forth, scattering over a hundred of them singlehandedly.
"Is that Wu Rendi?" Hao Wenming squinted, but quickly shook his head. "Looks like him... but it's not."
"It's the same white-haired man Da Sheng and I saw before," I explained. "No idea what his connection is to Wu Rendi." Fatty Sun suddenly said, "Wait—that guy was with the one-armed man earlier, right? Why's he fighting them now?" As he spoke, the wealth-rat climbed out of the secret room, abandoning the golden spheres, and scurried back into his shirt pocket.
Before I could answer, the white-haired man began walking toward us. Several "people" lunged at him, but he easily caught them one by one and flung them away with casual strength. He clearly had the power to finish them off, but chose instead to just throw them aside again and again. Slowly, he approached the secret room entrance.
Seeing him leading the "people" in our direction, we tensed up again. But then, he suddenly sped up, and in less than a minute, had cleared all the attackers around him. Then, he turned to us and said coldly, "Follow me."
He stood beneath a section of wall not far from the secret room. We saw him press something on the wall, and with a gentle push, a panel slid open—it was a hidden door. Noticing our hesitation, he said in a voice like splintering ice: "Either go in, or..." He jerked his chin toward the approaching mob. "Get torn apart and devoured."
Xiao Heshang waved us forward. "Go—let's talk once we're inside." This wasn't the time to hesitate. We followed the white-haired man through the hidden door. As soon as we were all inside, he turned and closed it behind us. Seconds later, frenzied pounding erupted from outside.
Behind the secret door was a narrow corridor. We followed the man closely. After just a few steps, we reached the end—there was a vermilion-colored door. The white-haired man knocked respectfully and spoke in a low voice, "Qianhu Zheng Jun, the guests have arrived."（Note:Qianhu was a military officer in ancient China, originally responsible for commanding around one thousand soldiers. The title means "commander of a thousand households." It was part of the Ming Dynasty's military system and was used to organize and manage troops.）
There was silence inside. After a moment, a calm voice answered, "Come in."
The white-haired man pushed open the door. I looked inside—and saw another man, also with white hair.