Chapter Sixty-Nine: Entrapped in Dire Straits

Wu Hua never expected that this journey would last an entire day. In a cramped chamber resembling a tomb, after confirming there were neither traps nor monsters, the three of them had no choice but to sleep offline using their purchased tech tents.

These tech tents primarily served to protect players as they logged off while sleeping. In some dangerous map areas, if a player forcefully logged off, they would be automatically transferred by the system to a safe location outside the scene upon logging back in. The tech tent circumvented this flaw. Additionally, it provided shelter from wind and rain, and, of course, it was indispensable for the group to discuss tactical strategies inside.

At exactly 2:00 p.m. the next day, Wu Hua and his companions arrived at a tomb chamber that led to a dead end.

Once the Farmer’s Wife took out a glow stick for illumination, the full scale of the tomb chamber was revealed. Wu Hua was stunned by its grandeur and luxury.

A quick estimation put the length at about 200 meters, the width at 100 meters, and the height at no less than 50 meters. The surrounding walls were covered in exquisite murals depicting all manner of vivid demons and monsters. The yellow glow from the energy stick cast strange shadows on these paintings, making one wonder if this might be some ancient treasury.

“Up to now, this is the farthest I’ve ever been in the Ayat Dungeon,” said Passerby A. “There’s nowhere else to go from here.”

Wu Hua noticed that dozens of stone coffins hung suspended in midair on either side of the tomb. The coffins were held by iron chains. Forty meters above ground, directly ahead, stood an altar, upon which perched a bizarre cat-faced idol, identical to the one at the entrance—sinister and unspeakably terrifying.

Passerby A explained, “See, those stone coffins on both sides are hanging very high, and the altar to the north is even higher. There’s no way to get up there.”

Wu Hua smiled. “No, I have a way.”

In fact, it wasn’t his own idea; Monica had instructed him beforehand: “When you reach a tomb chamber with stone coffins suspended all around, you can use rope tools to climb onto a coffin lid. The mechanism is hidden in the left eye of the evil cat on the altar.”

Wu Hua trusted the master implicitly. Under the astonished gazes of the other two, he used a grappling hook and rope to latch onto one of the coffins and pulled. Gears in the ceiling began to turn, the chains lowered, and the coffin was brought to the ground.

“Follow me, one at a time,” Wu Hua called, standing atop the coffin and waving. As he released his grip, the coffin slowly ascended into the air.

“Impressive! I never would’ve thought of that,” Passerby A exclaimed in admiration. “I’ve been here several times and never considered this.”

“Heh, the hard part’s still ahead.” Wu Hua threw out his rope; the hook caught an inconspicuous gear in the center of the tomb’s ceiling. With a leap, he swung through the air, circling a few times before landing atop the altar.

“Cool!” The Farmer’s Wife gave a sly smile. “That’s a clever trick.”

Now up close, the evil cat statue was much clearer. Standing before it, the three of them together could not match the size of its gaping mouth. It looked as if the cat would swallow them whole in a single bite.

“Stay here and don’t move. Let me find the switch,” Wu Hua said, climbing up toward the cat’s nose.

Suddenly, sparks burst from the cat statue’s emerald left eye. Wu Hua felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and his HP instantly dropped by more than a thousand points. His first instinct was to let go immediately and drop flat on the ground.

The Farmer’s Wife reacted just as swiftly, rolling aside without turning her body, opening her backpack and drawing her gun as she lay on the altar.

Clearly, someone had arrived at the tomb’s entrance below—and it was a gunman, launching a sneak attack.

A burst of gunfire echoed through the chamber. Wu Hua and the Farmer’s Wife exchanged glances, each understanding the situation: there were at least four or five FAMAS rifles firing below—the distinctive sound unmistakable.

All three of them lay flat atop the altar as bullets struck the front, sending dust flying. Passerby A had been wounded the worst, taking three shots in the back. Luckily, he wasn’t killed; he hurriedly used a healing potion to recover HP.

Their opponents were clearly experienced, not firing all four or five FAMAS at once, but in staggered bursts, maintaining constant suppressive fire to prevent anyone from standing up.

“Damn it!” the Farmer’s Wife cursed, her eyes darting. She nudged Wu Hua and pointed with her glow stick first at the floor below, then at the ceiling above.

Wu Hua understood. “Count to three and start.”

She nodded. “One, two, three.” With that, she hurled the glow stick forcefully downward.

Almost simultaneously, the four or five rifles below shifted aim and fired at the light. At that instant, Wu Hua sprang up, raced to the edge of the altar, leaped forward, and grabbed onto a rope, swinging into the air.

The maneuver made Passerby A’s heart pound in fear. He couldn’t help but admire Wu Hua’s quick thinking and courage—at such a height, a fall would leave anyone in pieces.

As Wu Hua swung through the air, he finally saw clearly: there were about thirteen or fourteen people below, all clad in women’s military uniforms, berets, and high combat boots. Such an outfit could only belong to the Blue Company.

Unfortunately, Wu Hua’s and the Farmer’s Wife’s trick might have fooled ordinary people, but not the Blue Company. The gunmen below immediately realized there was no one with the glow stick and quickly redirected their gunfire upward, catching Wu Hua still swinging.

A barrage of gunfire lit up the tomb. It was impossible for Wu Hua to escape unscathed amid such concentrated fire, but the chamber was tall, and the rope’s wide arc allowed him to swing a few rounds before leaping onto a nearby coffin. He lay on the lid, gasping for breath, with only 338 HP left.

“Those bitches can really shoot,” Wu Hua muttered, gritting his teeth as he slapped a healing potion on his leg. Luckily, he’d been hit in the calf—had it been his chest or back, he’d be done for.

What surprised him was that, despite his daring move to draw fire, the Farmer’s Wife hadn’t stood up to return fire. Such a good opportunity wasted—had she lost her mind?

Lying atop the coffin, Wu Hua shouted, “Which of the Seven Fairies am I speaking to?”

A peal of silvery laughter rang out from below. “Brother Explosive, fate truly brings us together from a thousand miles away. How does it feel lying on a coffin lid? If you’re not comfortable, I can arrange for you to lie inside instead.”

Wu Hua’s heart sank. His situation was dire—he could neither advance nor retreat. He needed to buy time, fast.

“Plum Blossom in Snow, I thought every member of Blue Company was a top-notch expert. Turns out this is all you’ve got,” Wu Hua shouted.

Plum Blossom in Snow laughed uproariously below. “Brother Explosive, Old Dragon says you’re clever, and he’s right—nothing escapes you. Yes, I’m using you to clear the way. Without you and your little companions up there, I’d never have made it this far. Thank you, hahaha!”

Wu Hua felt a chill run down his spine and cursed himself for being too careless. He’d fallen into a trap far more cunning and thorough than he’d imagined. The Blue Company’s revenge was more complex and precise than he’d thought.

As they say, there is nothing more poisonous than a woman’s heart. There was truth to those words.

“Haha, no need to thank me—we’re all friends here. As long as you’re happy.” Wu Hua quietly drew his AUG from his backpack and fitted it with a heavy barrel. As long as there was even the slightest chance, he would never give up.