The "black hair" binding Pang Jun hurled him into the air, then plunged downward at terrifying speed. In another second, he would be dragged straight into the dry well.
Wang Zikai reacted with astonishing speed and explosiveness. He leaped upward; the muscles in both arms bulged and hardened instantly. From behind, he locked his arms around Pang Jun's massive belly and was pulled along with him toward the well.
Slap! At the last possible instant, Wang Zikai's legs slammed down onto the well's outer stone rim, locking in place.
"Aaaahhh—" Pang Jun screamed in agony. Thank goodness he weighed over 200 jin and was covered in fat; otherwise the opposing forces would have already torn his skeleton apart.
The black hair couldn't drag Pang Jun in. It flung him high again. Wang Zikai refused to let go and soared up with him.
The hair whipped violently.
Boom! Pang Jun and Wang Zikai crashed heavily into a nearby building. Wood splintered, dust billowed.
The black hair still refused to release Pang Jun. It spun along the ground like a whip.
Crash—crash—boom—boom—
Pang Jun and Wang Zikai became a giant wrecking ball, smashing through the ancestral hall. They shattered windows, snapped beams, flew up to the second floor and demolished carved railings. In less than thirty seconds, the entire hall was reduced to rubble and teetered on collapse.
Fortunately, Wang Zikai acted like an indestructible turtle shell, shielding Pang Jun from behind and absorbing most of the impacts. Otherwise Pang Jun would have been crippled or dead.
Gao Yang and Officer Huang still stood frozen at the chamber entrance, pistols raised like idiots—yet neither fired. Not even submachine guns would do anything to those black strands. If anything, a flamethrower might have worked.
Their only hope was Qing Ling. She knew it too. Long knife already drawn, she crouched low, waiting for an opening. The chance came quickly: when the hair slowed for a split second, she dashed forward, drew, and slashed.
Whoosh—
Blade light flashed. Hundreds of fine black strands drifted through the air like falling threads. The hair binding Pang Jun began to shed in large clumps. Just as everyone thought rescue was at hand, even more black hair surged from the well mouth and lunged toward Qing Ling.
Startled, Qing Ling swung to cut—yet one strand still managed to wrap her wrist. More followed. In moments she too became a "human dumpling."
Bang bang bang! Gao Yang opened fire. As expected, the bullets passed through the black hair like water—no damage at all.
The hair no longer toyed with them. It pulled with full force, dragging both Pang Jun and Qing Ling toward the well.
Qing Ling flipped midair, bent her legs, and kicked hard against the well rim, anchoring herself. At the same time, Wang Zikai—still gripping Pang Jun—jammed his own legs against the edge.
"…Help!" Pang Jun wailed.
Gao Yang and Huang rushed forward and grabbed Qing Ling and Wang Zikai with all their strength.
What followed was a bizarre sight: five people twisted together in a grotesque, multi-limbed knot, locked at the well mouth. Thick, resilient black hair coiled around them, slowly, inexorably tightening.
From a distance, the scene looked frozen.
In reality, the two sides had reached a delicate equilibrium of force.
Gao Yang swore this was the longest, most agonizing "tug-of-war" of his life.
Three seconds passed.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds…
As the group's designated powerhouse, Wang Zikai began to falter first. "Fuck—fuck—I can't hold on anymore… I'm letting go…"
"No! Don't let go!" Pang Jun begged desperately. "I don't want to die…"
"Fatso, sacrifice yourself to save the four of us. Worth it. Big bro will avenge you later…"
"Why me…?" Pang Jun shouted. "Why not let go of Gao Yang? This is his damn test—I'm just collateral!"
"Shut up, idiot! Even if I die… I'm not abandoning my brother…"
Boom!
Before Wang Zikai finished, the ground around the well mouth collapsed. All five plummeted into the abyss together.
"Aaaahhh—"
Amid the chaotic screams, Gao Yang's vision went black.
…
[Life signs detected…]
[Status: Alive]
[Injury level: Minor]
[Alert: You have entered an unknown domain. Exploration unavailable. Luck Point multiplier increased to 2×]
[System hidden]
[Beep—]
Gao Yang slowly opened his eyes. Bright sunlight stabbed at him.
He raised a hand to shield his face; his palm was coated in dirt and the musty smell of moldy moss. He sat up carefully and flexed his arms—no serious injuries.
The first person he saw was Qing Ling. She had already shed her track jacket and wore only a sleek black sleeveless top. Head slightly bowed, she bit down on a bandage from her pocket while wrapping her right arm with one hand. At a glance, she looked strikingly like the protagonist of Tomb Raider 9.
"You… okay?" Gao Yang asked.
Qing Ling glanced up: Help.
Gao Yang immediately took the bandage from her mouth and helped tie it properly.
"Where are the others?" he asked.
"No idea. I just woke up too," Qing Ling replied.
Once her arm was securely bandaged, Gao Yang's eyes finally adjusted to the harsh sunlight. He looked around—and froze in shock.
This was Gu Family Village. They were lying right at the village entrance. It should be midday. Something was wrong… Was he still dreaming?
Gao Yang reached out and pinched Qing Ling's cheek… Definitely not a dream. No dream had ever felt this real.
Qing Ling glared fiercely. "What are you doing?"
"Checking if I can copy your talent." Gao Yang kept a straight face while secretly observing her reaction. She bought it. "Still can't. Means I wasn't out long—less than twelve hours at least."
He thought for a moment. "Probably not in heaven either."
Qing Ling raised an eyebrow. "You think you'd go to heaven after you die?"
"…Maybe?" Gao Yang wasn't exactly confident on that point.
"Honk honk honk…"
A goose call came from behind.
Gao Yang thought he'd misheard. He turned—sure enough, a large white goose.
It waddled past him with complete disregard. Before he could react, a whole flock followed, honking noisily as they marched between him and Qing Ling.
"Honk honk honk… honk honk honk…"
Fifteen seconds later, the goose army passed. Gao Yang and Qing Ling were now covered in white feathers.
"You two from the city?" The speaker was an old man—short, wiry, dark-skinned, shirtless in black hemp trousers. His bare feet were calloused and caked with black mud. He held a long bamboo pole in one hand and a smoking pipe in his mouth.
There were actually people here! What was going on?
Gao Yang was stunned. Qing Ling rose swiftly, stance alert.
"You here for the funeral?" the old man asked.
"Uh…" Gao Yang stood too, answering vaguely.
"Go to the ancestral hall. Whenever someone in our village dies, we set up stages and perform operas there." The old man removed his pipe and pointed with it toward the distant hall at the village's highest point. "Right there."
Gao Yang looked. Outside the hall was an earthen clearing with a temporary canopy. More than a dozen banquet tables were set up beneath it. At the entrance stood over ten white funeral wreaths. The spirit hall itself was probably inside the courtyard; faint operatic singing drifted from a makeshift stage.
"Okay. Thank you." Gao Yang played along.
"Eh… The Hua family died horribly. Five living people—one night—and chopped to pieces… I live right next door. Didn't hear a thing. Woke up in the morning and everyone was in shock. Courtyard, vegetable shed, trees, rooftops… hands, feet, limbs everywhere. Hua's head was stuck right on…"
The old man trailed off. His gaze unconsciously dropped to the cracked stone tablet at his feet, still bearing a long-dried bloodstain.
"What a sin!" He sighed deeply, herded his geese, and walked away.
Gao Yang immediately noticed something. He turned to Qing Ling. "Did you catch it?"
Qing Ling nodded slightly. "When we arrived, this tablet was already broken."
Though not completely certain, Gao Yang already had a preliminary conclusion:
"This Gu Family Village… is not the same one we came to."