Chapter Forty-Three: The Subway Tunnel

The two of them sprinted madly, crashing through several glass doors in succession, until they reached the ticket checkpoint. Lin Hai suddenly made a gesture, signaling Lin Fan to stop. They both stood still—by rights, their footsteps should have ceased instantly, yet strange noises still echoed through the station.

Lin Fan strained his ears, and what he heard made his heart sink. “Uncle! I think we woke up the staff on duty. And judging by those footsteps, it sounds like a whole team is coming. What do we do?”

“Run! What else? If they catch us and make us pay for those doors, we’re finished!” With that, Lin Hai dashed forward without hesitation, his mind still lingering on the glass doors he’d just smashed.

Seeing Lin Hai take the lead, Lin Fan dared not dawdle. He took off running as well.

They ran all the way to the edge of the platform, where Lin Hai dropped and rolled straight off, tumbling down. Lin Fan followed suit, jumping after him.

The two made their way along the subway tracks, heading deeper into the tunnels.

Soon, they slipped into the very depths of the subway passage. The tunnel was dimly lit, a chill wind whistling through. The hazy glow melted into the air, struggling to sketch out the tunnel’s outline but unable to pierce the fathomless darkness of its corners.

The tunnel echoed with the slap of their footsteps and their heavy, ragged breathing—nothing else disturbed the silence.

In such an environment, anyone would have felt a measure of discomfort. Yet, flushed and exhilarated from the run, both men felt an inexplicable sense of ease and delight.

Lin Hai didn’t know where this energy came from. Usually, when Lin Fan coaxed him out for morning exercise, he would be gasping for breath after barely a couple hundred meters, looking like he was about to collapse. Yet now, after running several kilometers, he showed no sign of wanting to stop.

After a few more kilometers, Lin Hai finally halted, plopping down onto the ground. He eyed the compass in his hand, gasping for breath and muttering, “Damn it… let’s see… who dares… call me… weak anymore!”

Lin Fan, less affected than Lin Hai, was only a bit winded. After catching his breath, he said, “Uncle, are you sure we’re going the right way? Is this what you meant by ‘nothing unexpected’? Because this feels pretty unexpected to me! If we keep running, are we going to end up at the Earth God’s house?”

“Know-it-all! Why don’t you lead the way!” Lin Hai, still a little smug moments before, was nettled by Lin Fan’s jibe. He shoved the compass into Lin Fan’s hands.

Lin Fan took the compass, wiped it off, and politely handed it back. “Heh, I was just asking out of concern. You’d better keep leading.”

“Useless! All you do is talk! The demonic presence here is getting heavier—we must be close to their secret base. Keep your eyes open! If we miss it, I’ll send you straight to meet Lady Athena!” Lin Hai glanced at the compass, wiped the sweat from his brow, and set off again.

Lin Fan, seeing his uncle so certain, said nothing more. He ran behind, carefully observing their surroundings.

They wandered the tunnel for nearly an hour before Lin Hai finally slowed down, leaning against the wall, every muscle aching, mouth foaming as he complained, “Being a man as swift as the wind… is damn exhausting! These bastards… sure know how to pick a spot. Is it easy to do anything these days?”

“Uncle, why did you stop? I was just getting warmed up!” Lin Fan was in a completely different state—rosy-cheeked, breathing steady, he was so energized he dropped to the ground and started doing push-ups.

Lin Hai shot him a look of utter distaste. “Screw you! You freak! You think I’m here to give you a night’s worth of running? I asked you to keep watch—did you notice anything?”

“Heh, I noticed you polluting the air with a string of wet farts. Does that count?” Lin Fan grinned up, but seeing Lin Hai’s face as dark as thunder, his spirits faltered. He quickly stood up, dusted off his hands, and said seriously, “There’s not a soul in this tunnel—what was I supposed to find?”

Lin Hai, seeing Lin Fan’s innocent expression, could only sigh. He pointed at the opposite wall. “Hey, blockhead, look up—what’s that?”

Following the beam of Lin Hai’s flashlight, Lin Fan saw that, a little over a meter above the ground, there was a black hole about two meters in diameter. If you didn’t know to look, you’d never have spotted it.

“Hey, there’s a hole! Uncle, your eyes may be small, but your focus is impressive! You actually found this!”

“Get over there and check it out. See if you can find any clues.”

At his uncle’s command, Lin Fan stepped forward, curiosity piqued. The moment he stood at the edge of the hole, a strange, icy wind swept out from its depths, whistling past and chilling him to the bone. His sweat dried instantly; just standing there made his spine tingle—he wanted nothing more than to flee.

But Lin Fan was no novice—his fear flickered and was gone. He raised his flashlight and peered inside. The beam played across a rock, so he adjusted the angle. The black tunnel snaked downward, sloping into the depths. The light only pierced so far before being swallowed by the darkness.

“Uncle, don’t tell me we’re supposed to… go in there?” Lin Fan swallowed, nervous but tinged with excitement.

“What else? You think I brought you out here for sightseeing?” After a short rest, Lin Hai had recovered some strength. He climbed to the hole, feeling the rough stones around the entrance and grumbling, “The workmanship on this tunnel is lousy! Another shoddy job… they didn’t even bother to smooth it out. It’s like stepping on a bed of acupressure stones—how’s anyone supposed to walk here?” He shone his light deeper—the same uneven ground extended as far as the beam reached. Lin Hai frowned, unsettled.

Lin Fan noticed it too—this tunnel definitely wasn’t dug by human hands. He couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for those rabbit demons: this was impressive work. Why not go into construction instead of stirring up trouble? What a waste of talent!

“Uncle, after you. I’ll cover the rear,” Lin Fan offered with mock politeness, stepping aside.

Lin Hai had expected this. Before Lin Fan could finish, he darted behind him and gave him a mighty kick.

Caught off guard, Lin Fan tumbled headlong into the tunnel, yelling all the way down, “Ow! Damn it, old man—ow! You bastard—damn! Damn you—aaaah—”

His shrieks and curses echoed down the tunnel as he bounced deeper into the darkness like a rubber ball.

Lin Hai crouched at the entrance, listening to Lin Fan’s cries gradually fade into the distance. He chuckled to himself, “I brought you here to scout ahead, not to cover the rear. If you’ve got the breath to curse me, you must be fine. Odd, though—there’s no trap at such an important entrance?”

He gathered up the gear Lin Fan had dropped and crawled in after him.

The tunnel was about the same size as the entrance—a cylindrical passage just wide enough for a grown man to walk upright. Many of the protruding rocks on the floor had been smoothed by Lin Fan, but they still hurt Lin Hai’s feet as he picked his way along, gritting his teeth and quickening his pace.

He walked for a long while—the tunnel continued to slope downward. Apart from the sounds he made himself, it was utterly silent. If not for the occasional icy draft at his ear, Lin Hai would have felt as if he were walking through the bowels of some giant serpent.

The tunnel felt utterly cut off from the world—silent and pitch-black. His flashlight beam was swallowed by the endless dark.

At this point, he began to worry about Lin Fan and even felt a pang of regret—had he known it was this deep, he might have held back a bit on that kick.

He quickened his pace. Gradually, he grew used to the pain in his feet and even broke into a run.

Never in his life had he covered such a distance. His clothes had been soaked and dried by the wind several times over.

Lin Hai no longer knew how long he’d been running. At last, the tunnel’s slope began to level out—but there was still no sign of Lin Fan. Just as anxiety gnawed at him, he suddenly saw something ahead, crawling toward him at great speed.

He switched off his flashlight, heart pounding. Who—could it be Lin Fan? Impossible, no human could move that fast…