I found myself puzzled, for dogs typically bark at strangers, yet this one seemed profoundly, almost unnervingly, composed.

It was this very depth that suggested an almost spiritual connection to the creature; the way it gazed at us seemed to imply it was trying to communicate something.

After a moment of thought, a memory surfaced: I had seen that exact look before, beneath the statue in the dead-end alley, the animal trapped in that hole—its eyes were identical to those of this large white dog!

Liang Qian was a truly kind-hearted woman. As I stood there in shock, she waved the flashlight in her hand and called out, "Little dog, what are you doing here?"

The large white dog’s expression shifted slightly under the beam of the flashlight. It let out a husky "Woof," the kind only an ancient, toothless dog could manage, glanced at Liang Qian, and then plunged back into the water.

We were all left utterly bewildered, unsure what this great white dog was trying to achieve.

However, only a minute later, we understood, as a series of massive bubbles erupted on the water's surface, quickly forming a powerful whirlpool.

The water inside the tunnel was continuously sucked toward the bottom by the vortex, and the water level visibly began to drop before our eyes.

It dawned on us then: the large white dog must have just activated the ancient drainage system of Durban City, clearing all the water.

A dog that could dive and then clear plumbing—I found it hard to believe; was this truly a dog, or something else entirely?

In any case, half an hour later, there was no trace of water left in the underground tunnel, save for the occasional bead dripping down from the vines hanging from the ceiling.

No matter the origin, this was undoubtedly good news for us; at least we wouldn't have to struggle to find our way anymore.

We were all people who didn't fear death, and having heard my assessment that this tunnel was relatively safe, we conferred briefly before one by one slipping inside.

The muddy runoff from the mountaintop had left pools of sludge covering the floor; as we walked, stepping into the mire occasionally left a trail of footprints.

Looking at those tracks, I felt a strange numbness setting in, giving the markings little further thought.

After entering the tunnel, we never saw the large white dog again, only catching glimpses of the paw prints it had left behind.

Aside from the occasional drop of water falling from the ceiling into my collar, giving me a sudden chill, nothing else noteworthy occurred within the passage.

Soon enough, we arrived directly beneath the crossroads where I had previously discovered the staircase.

Just as I suspected, although the metal ladder remained, the hatch in the tunnel ceiling was firmly sealed shut.

Since the ladder was severely corroded and could barely support my weight, I volunteered to climb up first.

Clutching the rusty ladder rungs, I ascended with trepidation, reaching the top to extend one hand and feel the hatch above me.

Liang Qian and the others stood below, shining their flashlights upwards, watching me.

Aided by the beam of their lights, I saw that overhead was a square stone slab, polished smooth, made of some black, unknown stone that felt intensely cold to the touch.

I pushed upwards with all my might, but the slab didn't budge, while the ladder beneath my feet began to creak ominously, sounding on the verge of collapse.

I steadied myself, terrified of suddenly plummeting.

Those below saw my predicament and reached out, preparing to catch me.

I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and managed, "It's fine, hold on."

Da Xiong, who had been pacing nervously below, seized the opportunity to ask, "What is it? Can't you open it?"

I nodded, replying, "It’s quite heavy."

Da Xiong clenched his fist and offered, "Should I try?"

"No, if you go up, this rotten iron ladder will definitely break. Try pushing it sideways," Liang Qian interjected, equally anxious.

I shook my head. "I tried pushing up, and I tried pushing sideways. It won't open."

The woman in black also grew impatient, asking, "How did you get up here last time?"

I was startled; how did this woman know I had been here before?

After a brief pause, I answered, "Last time I came, this was open."

The woman in black looked up, borrowed the flashlight from Liang Qian, and shone it directly onto the dark door, then asked me, "See if there are any markings up there."

Hearing this, I used the cold light of the beam to examine closely, tracing my fingers across the surface to check for any patterns.

Indeed, I immediately felt intricate markings etched into the smooth, cold stone slab—they were very complex.

So, I told the woman in black, "There are markings, and they are quite intricate. Perhaps you should come up and look."

The woman in black shook her head. "First, tell me, are those lines composed mostly of curves, or mostly of straight lines?"

I felt them over again and replied, "Most of them are straight lines."

The woman in black nodded again. "Then that confirms it. It would be useless for me to go up; this is Witchcraft Male Script—only a man can perceive it."

Witchcraft Male Script? I was completely bewildered.

At this point, the woman in black seemed agitated with excitement. "It seems we came to the right place. There is ancient script here; what I am looking for should be nearby."

Before I could respond, she tore off her black veil, revealing a face with beautifully sculpted features, and said to me, "Quickly, tell me how these lines are distributed."

I was momentarily speechless, as judging purely by touch, the pattern was extraordinarily complicated, made up of what seemed like over a hundred interwoven lines.

So, I admitted with some hesitation, "This pattern is a bit complex; describing all of it might be troublesome."

Perhaps due to her excitement, the woman in black managed a slight smile. "No matter. I'll teach you. First, place your hand on the outermost circle of lines, then trace clockwise, counting every corner, every vertical intersection. Then, proceed inward sequentially, reporting all the values as you go."

Seeing her enthusiasm, the others found it odd, but I couldn't refuse her. I began counting according to her method: "Clockwise from twelve o'clock, right angle; clockwise from nine o'clock, intersection..."

Ten minutes later, I had relayed all the information to her, and she meticulously sketched each detail onto the ground with a thin rod.

Finally, everyone looked at the pattern on the floor and gasped in surprise, for it was a complex arrangement of interlinked hexagons, resembling, in a way, the catalytic arrays used in Western alchemy.

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