C66 (1/2)

”Who is Zhou Lingwu?” San Mao turned his head and asked curiously.

Since the investigation into the Zhou brothers were conducted by me and the Taoist priest, San Mao had never participated in it before. Naturally, he did not know who this Zhou Lingwu was, but right now, I obviously did not have the time to explain the ins and outs of the matter.

However, I didn't have time to think about anything else at the moment. I could only grab hold of Zhou Lingwu and ask him about the situation. I subconsciously turned on the flashlight in my hand and chased after him, ignoring everything else.

After I entered the passageway, I discovered that it was just like a maze. A large number of interconnected passages were intertwined together, and the sides of the passageway were filled with concrete walls. There were no doors or windows at all. The light spots on my flashlight swayed in front of me as Zhou Lingwu and myself, as well as the footsteps of Clan Leader San Mao and the others behind me echoed in the passage, as if there were tens or even a hundred people running at the same time.

At the start, my flashlight would occasionally flash upon his figure, but after a few turns, I had completely lost sight of him. After looking aimlessly for a while, I finally confirmed that I had lost him, and stopped in my tracks.

The walls of this passageway did not look like the internal corridor of a normal building at all, but had no walls or paint, exposing the coarse cement of the embryo. However, it seemed to be a thick, sturdy, and indestructible corridor, with scarlet painted pipes extending from the ceiling. The light bulbs were hanging below the pipes, neatly arranged in a line.

I remembered that the location of the Boeing 777 was below ground level, which meant that the labyrinth was built entirely underground.

I groped around on the nearby wall and found several switchboards. I tried them with my hand, but nothing happened, as if all the electricity in the area except for the egg-shaped building had been cut off.

I looked back. Behind me was the same dark, unlit corridor. I took a few more steps back, and when I couldn't tell where I was anymore, I couldn't help but shout,

”San Mao!”

”Hair...” Hair... Hair... ”Hair …” A series of echoes resounded from the passage, followed by San Mao's voice that seemed to have been mixed with the reverberations:

”Source... Source... Source... ”Source...”

The voices came from all directions, and I couldn't tell where they came from. I tried to take a few steps in the right direction, but without exception they were the same corridors.