I stumbled backward two paces, suddenly alarmed by the blood and fearful it might be somehow tainted, but just as I retreated, Zhuoma Yangjin pulled me back. Her expression was profoundly strange, a mix of sheer terror overlaid with a faint tremor of excitement. Her voice shook as she turned to me, saying, "Don't go, watch closely. It's nothing, don't be afraid." Don't be afraid was a ridiculous thing to say, but the cave was too bizarre; even gravity felt abnormal here, so abnormal it possessed a magical pull that rooted my feet to the spot, preventing escape.

I watched, helpless, as those two slender rivulets of blood crawled diagonally past Yamamoto’s feet, then slowly began creeping toward us. However, they veered increasingly sideways as they moved, twisting toward the dark red ditch beside us, rather than heading directly for us. Yamamoto turned fully around to face us, showing no evasion, his eyes locked entirely on the movement of the two blood threads. As the blood gradually merged into the ditch, a strange smile bloomed on his face—a smile whose meaning I lacked the vocabulary to fully describe; it contained treachery, triumph, dread, unease, exhilaration, and a clear eagerness to engage...

Strangely enough, every last drop of blood left behind by Wang and Liu seemed to voluntarily dissolve into that small ditch. Witnessing this spectacle began to shake my atheism; I racked my brain trying to make sense of it, finding no explanation other than the supernatural.

I looked over at Zhuoma Yangjin. She bit her lip, deep in thought, her face still completely drained of color.

"..." Yamamoto straightened up, a smile playing on his lips, and began speaking to Zhuoma Yangjin, completely disregarding my presence, his face showing not a shred of guilt, as if what he had pushed into the cave earlier wasn't me, or even a person, but merely a lifeless stone. I pulled Zhuoma Yangjin close to my side, glaring defiantly at Yamamoto, signaling that his earlier despicable actions meant he shouldn't expect her cooperation now; she was on my side!

Unexpectedly, Zhuoma Yangjin yanked her hand away from mine, subtly widening the space between us. Then, she smoothed her hair and calmly began replying to the devil Yamamoto. The two chattered back and forth in Japanese, seemingly enjoying themselves immensely. Several times, Zhuoma Yangjin even turned back to me with a bright smile, scanning me up and down. This was naked provocation. Her sudden intimacy with the Japanese devil was the equivalent of me slapping my own face hard several times in public, leaving me dizzy and utterly disgraced.

A surge of hot blood rushed to my head, my fists clenching so tight my bones ground together. Calm down, calm down... I kept repeating to myself, Steady yourself, aim for his face, don't miss...

Yamamoto and Zhuoma Yangjin continued their conversation, seemingly plotting something. I couldn't stand it any longer. I shoved Zhuoma Yangjin aside, and without a word, swung my old fist straight at the Japanese man’s face. He reacted instantly, crying out a strange yelp, and immediately fought back, grabbing hold of my body and constantly trying to shove me toward the ditch beside us. We immediately devolved into a tangled mess of struggling bodies. The confined space here made it incredibly difficult for my taller frame to effectively use my fists and feet. Yamamoto exploited his smaller stature, darting and weaving to launch continuous attacks, and gradually, I found myself struggling to keep up.

Damn it! I gritted my teeth, deciding to risk everything! Even if I died, I would drag Yamamoto down with me. With that thought, I stopped dodging his punches entirely and focused solely on striking his vital points...

Just as the fight reached its peak, my waist was suddenly seized tightly. I looked down, and fury boiled up—it was Zhuoma Yangjin. She pulled me backward with one hand while speaking loudly toward Yamamoto. Hearing her words, Yamamoto, instead of seizing this opportunity for revenge, stood calmly with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a half-smile. I couldn't tolerate it. I wrenched myself free from Zhuoma Yangjin’s grip and prepared to strike Yamamoto again. But just as I stepped forward, someone gripped my shoulder tightly. Immediately following that, both my arms were violently yanked behind my back, and then a knee struck the back of my bent leg. My legs buckled, and I nearly fell to my knees. However, I managed a few staggering steps, biting down hard to endure, and ultimately, I did not fall.

I glared at Yamamoto, my eyes blazing with fire, refusing to struggle, waiting to see what he intended.

Yamamoto met my gaze with an air of amusement for a moment, then waved his hand and turned, leading the way forward. Up ahead, Wang and Liu continued walking blankly forward, not even sparing me a glance. Incredibly, Zhuoma Yangjin had the nerve to step closer to speak to me. Her expression was still grim, but she gave me a cheerful look, then leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "If you have no wounds, find Master Banchin or one of his successors." Having said that, she briskly walked away, catching up to Yamamoto and resuming their cheerful conversation. I wished so fiercely that countless knives could fly from my eyes, or that the gun at my waist would spontaneously discharge and kill the woman. I cared nothing for what she had said.

I was escorted by two Japanese soldiers, who hauled and dragged me forward. I struggled and screamed continuously, hoping for some stroke of unbelievable luck that might startle Wang and Liu into rushing back to save their compatriot. But clearly, all my efforts were in vain; Wang and Liu remained utterly deaf to my cries, continuing their march. After shouting for a while, I suddenly recalled their earlier action of drinking the spring water—they were probably compromised themselves, and how could they possibly help me? My spirit immediately flagged.

After being dragged by the Japanese for some distance, we reached an area where the terrain opened up slightly. Yamamoto stopped and approached me, reaching to my waist and taking out my handgun. He squinted, holding the weapon up to his face to examine it carefully.

"Damn it!" My eyes turned red, and I cursed while struggling violently, trying to lunge forward and snatch the gun back.

Yamamoto looked at me with deep sarcasm and casually stepped back a pace. The soldiers holding me were immensely strong; despite my strenuous efforts, I couldn't budge an inch. He studied me for a moment, then glanced deliberately, almost casually, toward the cave wall. A chill ran down my spine, and I followed his gaze. On the left wall, there was a ditch fully two zhang wide. I couldn't discern its color—whether it was the dark red spring water from before or just ordinary groundwater.

At that moment, Zhuoma Yangjin stepped in front of me. Her face was deathly pale. She reached out and touched my cheek, letting out a sigh that seemed tinged with lingering affection, before saying in that same cheerful tone, "If you have no wounds, go find Master Banchin or one of his successors..." As she finished speaking, she sighed lightly with a smile, shook her head, and said, "I truly can't bear to watch you walk to your death." With that, she turned and walked forward without looking back.

"I—" I was about to unleash a torrent of curses at the woman, but before the second word could leave my mouth, the two Japanese soldiers unexpectedly shoved me violently to the side. Before I could regain my balance, kicks landed against me—there was no room to dodge—and I fell straight into the water.

Instantly, icy water flooded over my head. I wasn't particularly skilled in swimming even in normal circumstances, and now my mind was fractured with terror. I thrashed frantically, trying to break the surface, attempting to shout for help, but the moment my mouth opened, a taste of raw blood instantly flooded in.

The blood spring water! I had already witnessed the horror of that water; how could I dare open my mouth to call for rescue? Furthermore, even if I could shout for help, could I really expect Zhuoma Yangjin, or Section Chief Wang or Officer Liu, to save me? Realizing this, I strangely calmed down. Steady, relax, break the surface for air...

Those damn Japanese devils! The instant my head broke the surface, someone immediately fired at me. Hearing the shot, I plunged back under the water. Luckily, the bullet missed, but the pressure in my chest was agonizing. I needed air again, but to my horror, the beasts fired several more rounds at the water surface. I barely had time to dodge, daring not to show my head again. This made the tightness in my chest unbearable, almost forcing me to gulp down water... Just then, the sound of their cackling voices slowly faded. They must have figured they’d hit me after a few random shots and left. I quickly surfaced, gulping great mouthfuls of air. Once my breathing stabilized slightly, I realized I was chilled to the bone; even the air I inhaled felt cold. My lips, touching my teeth, felt like they were contacting blocks of ice—I couldn't tell if my teeth or lips were the ones frozen stiff.

Silence reigned all around me; even my slightest movement echoed unnervingly. I slowly paddled toward the bank, the raw instinct for survival burning fiercely within me. Though my backpack, soaked in the water, was incredibly heavy, I managed to swim ashore carrying it.

But once I reached the bank, I realized the situation was far worse than I imagined. The reason those brutes left after firing wildly wasn't confidence in their marksmanship—it was because—because nearly all my gear was ruined after being soaked. Moreover, in this bitter winter weather, my clothes were soaking wet, and I had no dry replacements. I wouldn't walk fifty paces before freezing to death on the roadside.