Complete darkness

Chapter 121: Down the Mountain


The man entombed within the wall was clad in an old-fashioned, dust-covered shirt and black trousers, with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.


Due to the lack of air and moisture inside the wall, his face had not completely rotted but instead had shriveled like dried fruit, somewhat withered and full of wrinkles.


"A lot of the cement and skin are stuck together. Judging from the style of clothes on the corpse and the state of the body, it seems he was buried in the walls during the construction of the club activity building decades ago," Li Ang calmly analyzed, continuously chipping away at the small stones surrounding the corpse with a steel rod. "Recently, it seems that due to the club activity building's disrepair and a leaking roof, rainwater seeped into the wall, causing the corpse to start decaying again and oozing greenish-black liquid."


As his upper body was completely dug out from the cement, the semi-dried corpse began to tremble slightly.


Li Ang retreated half a step unhurriedly, expertly pulling a Soviet-style Molotov cocktail from his backpack. With the Molotov cocktail in his left hand and the steel rod in his right pressed against the dried corpse's head, he would not hesitate to destroy it on the spot if it showed even the slightest hint of aggression.


"...."


The corpse, its lower body still buried in the cement, began to shake more violently, trembling incessantly like a sieve.


After a long while, he suddenly opened his cloudy eyes and drew a deep breath with a HISS, as if trying to suck all the air in the world into his lungs.


Li Ang watched the dried corpse indifferently; attacking blindly without knowing the opponent's strength was not a good option. Attacking wasn't advisable, but questioning was still an option.


Li Ang prodded the dried corpse's neck with the steel rod, calmly asking, "Name, age, cause of death."


The corpse lowered his head to look blankly at the steel rod pressed against his neck, his dazed eyes brimming with confusion.


Li Ang raised his voice and repeated the question.


This time, the dried corpse finally reacted. He sluggishly raised his head, shook it to dislodge the dust, "Who are you? How did I get here?"


Li Ang frowned as he watched the dried corpse look down and discover in horror that he was embedded in concrete, his limbs and torso as desiccated as firewood.


"Calm down. You need to stay calm."


Li Ang casually struck with Fragment Scatter, slapping the reanimated corpse and stunning it slightly. "Tell me your name, age, and cause of death." Visit My Virtual Library Empire (*) for more.


"Cause of death? I... I'm dead?"


The dumbstruck zombie stared for several seconds before finally, under Li Ang's "gentle" gaze, beginning to stammer out his story.


His name was Mizuhara Haruto, a teacher at Ibaraki Middle School.


Twenty years ago, he uncovered an embezzlement issue within the school, where a leader of Ibaraki Middle School and his relative, a construction contractor, had siphoned off a large sum of money.


After a fierce inner struggle, Mizuhara Haruto decided to expose the matter by reporting it.


However, his anonymous letters to the newspapers vanished without a trace, and his calls to Ibaraki's local authorities from public phone booths yielded no results.


Instead, he was tracked down by a wide-reaching network of vested interests who used various means to discover his true identity as the whistleblower. They tied him up in the still-under-renovation Ibaraki Middle School, where he was beaten into unconsciousness.


Mizuhara Haruto had thought that at worst, these people would give him a severe lesson, but upon waking up, he found himself encased in reinforced concrete walls.


"I've been dead... all these years...?"


Mizuhara Haruto looked around at the modern buildings, clutching his head, and broke down, "Dad, Mom, Yumi, Rina..."


Clearly, the two-decade gap was but a blink of an eye for this man. But for those living in the real world, those twenty years were truly agonizing. Heaven knows how many tears they shed for Mizuhara Haruto, the "missing person," how many miles they traveled, and how much hardship they endured.


Li Ang glanced at the expression of pain and regret on his face and raised the steel rod. "Bear with it, I'm in a hurry."


"..."


Mizuhara Haruto looked at the fully armed Li Ang, his gaunt face changing expressions several times before finally, as if resigned to his fate, he lowered his head and muttered to himself, "Indeed, for a monster like me, how could I possibly face them? It's better to find peace sooner rather than later."


In Japan Islands culture, finding peace is not about "becoming a Buddha and founding a sect"; it refers to the dead letting go of all their earthly troubles and passing on to nirvana.


"Who said I was sending you to find peace?"


Li Ang was somewhat puzzled. As he swung the steel rod, completely unearthing Mizuhara Haruto, he quickly said, "You actually want to take revenge, don't you? To launch your revenge against those scoundrels who caused your death and have kept your family in pain."


"...."


Mizuhara Haruto was stunned for a moment, then hesitantly nodded.


"Good." Li Ang tapped Mizuhara Haruto's shoulder with the steel rod, feeling as if he had struck solid steel. "Your body can now withstand a burst of small-caliber bullets. It would be a piece of cake for you to lurk and take revenge on a few ordinary people.


"Once your vendetta is settled, whether you wish to end your own life or hide in the shadows to protect your family, it's none of my concern."


Mizuhara Haruto was lost for words and stammered, "But I look like this...."


"Modern cosmetic surgery is quite advanced. Inject some preservatives and hyaluronic acid into your muscles, apply a layer of paint to your skin, and you'll be the brightest spark in the village.


"Aside from not being able to laugh like those over-surgerized internet celebrities, there's nothing inconvenient about it."


Li Ang waved his hand, signaling Mizuhara Haruto to leave. "Every injustice has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor. Repay grievances, exact revenge.


"Now get going, my time is limited."


Unsure what to say, Mizuhara Haruto hesitated for a moment but still turned and left.


Li Ang, remaining in place, put away the Molotov cocktail and steel rod, then drew an assault rifle equipped with a grenade launcher and pointed it at the dried corpse's retreating back.


[Task objective: Resolve seven supernatural events, currently completed 6/7]


Even as the mission alert sounded, Li Ang did not lower his gun. Instead, he took out his walkie-talkie to contact Plague Doctor, confirming the code word. "Have you resolved it on your end?"


"Not yet," Plague Doctor replied with some difficulty. "I've managed to climb up the wall of the building. I'm with Black Trojan now.


"There are many statues here. We have to maintain eye contact with them to prevent their numbers from increasing further."


He paused, then added with a wry smile, "It seems like one of us must stay trapped here to complete the mission."


Li Ang fell silent for a moment. He had contacted Plague Doctor for two reasons: first, to inquire about the situation there, and second, to confirm that the mission alert he'd just heard was triggered by his own actions and not Black Trojan's, thereby ruling out the possibility that Mizuhara Haruto had lied to him.


After confirmation, only the final supernatural event, at Black Trojan's location, remained unresolved.


Li Ang was about to say he would be there soon when he noticed the surroundings suddenly darken, a dense shadow seeming to envelop everything.


The howling wind that had been raging moments before fell quiet, settling down.


Inside Ibaraki Middle School, there was only absolute silence, so quiet that one could hear their own heartbeat.


「The sun had set.」