(I've been away recently, so I can only manage one update for now; planning to resume normally in about a week.) When I shone my flashlight backward, I was surprised to find no one behind me.

A cold sweat immediately broke out on my forehead, because if no one was behind me, then what was it that had pulled me up just now? At the speed I turned, even the fastest person couldn't have vanished without a trace so instantly.

I looked around in astonishment, hurriedly brushed the dust off my clothes, and stood up, still somewhat shaken.

Hesitating for a moment, I aimed my flashlight back into the cave entrance again, only to see that the white canine was gone.

I checked my surroundings again, but found nothing else.

“Strange… who exactly pulled me up, and why would they do that?” I muttered to myself while walking toward the alley exit.

It was then that I saw a set of fresh footprints on the ground.

This set of prints was moving almost parallel to the line we had previously assumed were *footprints, except the slightly damp surface indicated they had been left only moments ago.

This meant someone had indeed pulled me up just then.

So, ignoring everything else this time, I followed these two sets of tracks forward to see where they led.

Soon, I passed the two-story structure where we had been hiding, moving deeper into the residential area of Durban City.

As I proceeded, the houses on both sides became denser, and the gaps between them grew narrower.

When I had to turn sideways to pass through a narrow path, the ground began to slope downward.

Looking at the footprints on the ground, I knew the person from before must have entered an underground tunnel.

Shining my flashlight and moving slowly through the thick fog, I soon discovered the entrance to the underground tunnel.

It was beneath the foundation of a dilapidated house, pitch black inside, with mist swirling around it, making it look mysterious and eerie.

The footprints indeed led straight into the cavity, so if I wanted to continue the pursuit, I had no choice but to enter.

I looked left and right, hesitated for a minute, then grit my teeth, bent over, and squeezed into the low tunnel entrance.

Fortunately, the tunnel was only low at the entrance; once inside, I could stand up straight.

I swept my flashlight around and noticed the tunnel was generally arched, reinforced with brickwork.

On both sides of the walls were stone fixtures shaped like lamp stands, about half a person's height.

Most of the braziers placed on these stands were broken and ruined.

The black oil inside looked rather repulsive; when I smelled it up close, it carried a scent of seawater—it was clearly unusable for lighting.

The footprints, initially muddy, became much fainter after entering the tunnel, but using the beam of my flashlight, I could still barely make them out.

So, I continued to follow the tracks forward.

Luckily, the tunnel descended to a certain depth and then stopped going further down, instead running parallel to the surface.

Occasionally, I could see ventilation shafts leading to the surface in the tunnel ceiling, so it wasn't completely dark inside.

I observed that along the brick walls, there were sporadic square openings—doorways—piled high with debris.

Although the debris was shapeless now, I could still recognize shelves that once held goods and counters that served as registers.

Clearly, these rooms had once been shops.

I mused, Perhaps this was the world’s very first underground mall? The reason for this underground mall’s existence was likely similar to that of modern cities: population density led to insufficient supply for consumer demand, so the underground space was developed.

One could only imagine how prosperous this place once was.

However, I had no time to linger and reminisce about the past; I kept following the footprints.

I thought the speed of this person’s travel was truly exceptional, because if they had paused even slightly along the way, I surely would have caught up, given that my own pace wasn't slow.

I was contemplating the purpose behind this swift movement when I arrived at a fork.

Calling it a fork was perhaps an overstatement; it was more like a crossroads formed by two underground tunnels intersecting.

Directly above the intersection, a shaft of daylight streamed down from the ground above.

But this was no mere ventilation shaft, as a wooden ladder hung down from the opening.

I walked directly beneath that opening and looked up, seeing only a blinding white expanse—nothing discernible.

And the footprints on the ground also vanished right here.

It was obvious the person had climbed up the wooden ladder last.

Without hesitation, I gripped the wooden ladder and started climbing up.

The climb from the ladder must have been about seven or eight meters.

The sensation transmitted through my hand was that of old wood, threatening to snap at any moment.

And underfoot, there was a creaking, unsteady sound.

But, thankfully, by the time my head poked through the ground surface, the wooden ladder hadn't collapsed.

However, as I emerged, I was hit by a strange odor.

I couldn't precisely name the scent; it had the brininess of seawater, a dry, arid quality, and even a note of animal urine.

Glancing around, I saw that the space I was climbing into resembled a prison cell.

One side was made of darkened brick, while the other three sides consisted of metal railings.

I noticed clumps of dried grass, decayed for who knows how long, and some rather large animal skeletons around me.

It dawned on me then: I had unconsciously arrived at the fighting pits of Durban City.

The room I was climbing into must have been one of the cages used to hold fierce beasts.

It was a relief that one side of the cage railing had an open doorway, otherwise, finding an exit after climbing up would surely have been difficult.

Without further hesitation, I fully pulled myself up from the wooden ladder.

Then I checked the ground, only to find the footprints had disappeared.

“Damn it!” I cursed, feeling played.

I then surveyed my surroundings and discovered many similar prison cells flanking me.

Daylight streamed in through the metal bars of one side of the cells, clearly the passage where animals were once released.

The small door opened in my cell was conveniently located on that same barred wall.

Since there were no clues nearby, I could only exit through this small door to see if I could pick up the tracks again.

Stepping through the small door, I found a very short passageway.

Along the sides were tables, upon which lay rotting whips, shackles, and similar implements used for taming beasts back then.

I even spotted a heavily weathered human skeleton slumped next to a table—this must have been a beast tamer from that era.

Imagining the tremendous roar of the crowd when the beasts made their grand entrance, my thoughts drifted.

If I were one of those warriors bravely facing the beasts back then, walking down this passage now, would I feel a sense of heroic grandeur? Lost in these thoughts, I stepped out of the small door at the end of the corridor.

Instead of the roaring cheers and the beasts eager for battle across the way, I found only the silent, sandy floor of the arena, ringed by tiered spectator stands, and empty chairs.

Though shrouded in thin mist, I could clearly see that this arena’s layout was similar to the Colosseum in Rome: circular, about the size of half a football field, with high, imposing walls and numerous arched gates through which beasts and warriors once emerged.

Some of these gates were secured with iron bars, while others stood wide open.

The small doorway I had just emerged from was merely one of them.

Looking around, I was awestruck by the magnificent scale of the arena.

After a few moments of reflection, I got down to business, looking for the muddy footprints from before.

And indeed, I spotted a set of fresh footprints, extending from the gate I exited straight toward the center of the arena floor.

My heart tightened, and I aimed my flashlight beam toward the center of the square.

I then noticed a figure squatting there in the swirling mist at the center of the plaza.

I cautiously drew the Silver Fish Dagger from my backpack and began walking step by step toward the arena center.

As I drew nearer with each footfall, my heart pounded faster, and my breathing grew ragged.

The phantom presence that had been lurking about so furtively was finally about to reveal its true form before me.

Perhaps the disappearance of everyone else was closely related to this entity.

However, the creature’s posture was bizarre; it squatted there motionless, utterly like a stone statue.

I entertained many hypotheses, the most likely being that this was not a person but something like a Zongzi (a reanimated corpse).

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have carried so much dirt on its feet constantly.

If it truly was a Zongzi, I needed to be even more vigilant, so I slowed my pace further.

But when I finally got close, I felt a pang of disappointment.

Because what stood before me was not a crouching person, but a small mound of yellow sand.

This sand pile was semi-spherical, resembling a tiny grave mound, which felt rather inauspicious.

The strange footprints had vanished just before the sand mound, and I even saw some muddy handprints on the pile.

This meant the owner of the footprints had built this sand mound, and very recently too.

So, why would he pile sand here? Was this mound the Zongzi's lair? Without dwelling on it, I quickened my steps and approached.

Then I squatted down to examine the sand mound.

The sand in the pile was the same yellow sand from the arena floor, mixed with impurities—likely mud and pebbles brought by the sea wind over many years.

I could clearly see the indentations left by human hands pressing into the sand, with smudges of mire in some places.

This only heightened my eagerness to discover what was buried inside this mound.

I picked up the Silver Fish Dagger in my hand and began to excavate the sand pile, carefully pushing the sand aside.

Soon, the contents of the sand mound slowly began to emerge.

It was a dark object with a metallic sheen.

I reached out to touch it; it felt somewhat icy, very smooth, but I couldn't discern what it was.

So, I continued digging downward, determined to unearth the entire object.

(I can't provide many more updates right now; I hope everyone can forgive me, but the story arc won't be cut short—I should be back to two chapters a week after about a week.)