As the sound of the giant bat’s wings beating gradually drew nearer, my heart began to hammer against my ribs.

If this creature spotted me, a fierce battle would be inevitable—a battle that Wu Laoban and I had already injured it in.

Whether I could defeat this monstrous bat was one question, but more pressing was what those long-faced fiends would do to me if they discovered my whereabouts.

Would they feed me human flesh, just like they did the middle-aged man, and then use my body to save someone else?

I certainly didn't want to end up fatter than Nobita.

While I was tearing my hair out, I suddenly heard a loud thump overhead, as if the bat had landed on the ground.

Immediately afterward, a powerful stench of burning—acrid and foul—mingled with the nauseating reek of decaying corpses permeated my surroundings.

Then, a hideous, massive head poked up over the chimney behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw its small, blood-red eyes fixed directly on me.

Smoke billowed from its mouth, much like steam escaping from a poorly sealed boiler lid, with occasional sparks of flame darting out.

It was clear it had detected me, and it was furious.

I stared at the two gruesome gashes on its head, visible down to the bone, and forced a dry laugh, slowly backing away.

I frantically calculated how to deal with this bat in this situation, without any weapons, and without alerting those lanky, grotesque figures.

However, the situation escalated beyond my wildest imaginings. Just as the giant bat crouched on the chimney, puffing out clouds of smoke, seven or eight bizarre, enormous blue faces rose up beside it, as if being unfurled like flags.

On these faces, I could discern no trace of humanity. They wore utterly expressionless masks, their eyes vacant, neither speaking nor breathing—other than calling them ghostly, no adjective seemed fitting.

As I stood mesmerized, one of the dead-looking faces suddenly gaped wide, revealing a mouth full of black, pointed fangs.

Then I saw what looked like a white snake writhing deep within its throat.

Before I could react, that long, white, serpentine object shot out of its mouth, aimed straight for my neck.

Flying mid-air, I realized this was no snake at all, but the long-faced creature’s tongue.

I was so terrified my soul nearly fled my body, and my legs went momentarily weak.

But I knew that being caught by this impossibly long tongue would be far worse than mere disgust; I would face the retribution of these long-faced ghouls.

So, harnessing the sudden surge of weakness in my legs, I tried to execute a quick roll on the ground.

But at that moment, sharp aches shot up my neck and waist, making me grimace.

What should have been a cool, sideways roll turned into a clumsy, sideways sprawl.

Thankfully, there were no sharp protrusions on the ground; I landed heavily, momentarily stunned, and swallowed a mouthful of dust.

The white tongue proved less agile than anticipated; it couldn't manage curves.

So, the eerie long face snapped its head up and retracted the tongue like a frog.

Scrambling and crawling, I forced myself back onto my feet, thinking, If not now, when?

I immediately took off running backward.

After a few steps, I glanced back. The tall, lanky fiends had emerged from behind the chimney, drifting toward me eerily, like specters.

The giant bat also flapped its wings and took to the air.

No matter how fast a human runs, they cannot outpace a flying bat.

I hadn't run more than a few yards before the giant bat swooped down from above, opening its enormous claws to strike.

With no way to evade, I had no choice but to deploy my ultimate defensive move: the face-plant, throwing myself flat on the ground.

The bat’s razor claws whistled inches over my head; the sheer gale force of their passage made my back prickle.

Missing its target, the bat soared over me, its talons digging deep gouges into the earth.

It let out a couple of sharp screeches, flapped its wings, and ascended again.

I knew it would circle once more before diving down again; capture by it was only a matter of time.

Taking advantage of the brief reprieve, I scanned the surroundings for any place to hide.

But just as I pushed myself up from the ground, a massive, icy hand clamped around my throat from behind.

I knew the long-faced fiends had caught up—they moved with such terrifying speed despite their casual demeanor.

The hand gripping my neck was cold and immensely strong, feeling nothing like that of a living person.

No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't break free.

Just as despair began to set in, a low-frequency yet intensely high-pitched sound resonated by my ear—it was somewhat similar to the destructive noise emitted by that large orb I’d heard earlier.

Upon hearing this sound, my consciousness began to fade, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

I don't know how long passed before I slowly began to stir from the blackout.

The moment I opened my eyes, I was assaulted by a dazzling white light, as if struck by a flash grenade, causing my vision to swim and darken.

Instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut.

After a moment, I realized the light wasn't actually that intense; my disorientation was purely due to waking from a deep stupor.

Now able to adjust, I opened my eyes and bolted upright from the...

Sitting up, I found myself inside a room shaped like a silver-white sphere.

The bed I had been lying on was a silver metal slab, unattached to any frame underneath, half embedded in the wall and half jutting out—completely unadorned, possessing a stark, ultra-modern futuristic aesthetic.

The room’s furnishings were minimalist: just the bed and a circular spotlight hanging overhead.

To the left of the bed, a circular doorway stood open, revealing only inky blackness outside, giving no clue as to what lay beyond.

Though the place was excessively simple and seemingly free of immediate danger, a cold sweat broke out on me instantly.

Because this location was precisely the place depicted in the mural: the feeding ground where they consumed human flesh.

Seeing the door ajar, even though I knew they wouldn't let me escape easily after capturing me, I rushed toward the opening on a slim hope.

Just as I reached the threshold, a colossal shadow blocked my exit.

I looked up, but couldn't make out the face of the figure outside the door.

However, the giant soon bent over, hunching down to squeeze inside.

It forced me to retreat a couple of steps.

Once inside, the tall figure stood before me, watching silently, its face still devoid of expression.

Unsure of its intentions, I backed up several more steps until I hit the bedframe behind me.

I felt like a terrified young girl about to be violated—lacking the defiance of a martyr facing execution, yet equally devoid of the fawning pleas of a traitor.

The figure simply observed the shifting expressions on my face. Perhaps sensing my terror, it extended a hand and twitched its lips twice, seemingly about to speak.

But in the end, it said nothing.

Confused by its behavior, I asked, "Who... are you?"

The figure finally parted its lips and spoke in a low, rusty voice: "Atlantis."

I didn't recognize that English word, nor could I be certain it was English, but I knew there was a civilization rumored to have existed on Earth whose name sounded remarkably similar to the word it had uttered.

So, I ventured, "Do you mean Atlantis?"

Hearing the name pass my lips, a flicker of something—perhaps clarity—passed through the figure's whites-of-the-eyes. It blinked once, signaling assent.

A strange, inexplicable sensation welled up inside me, as if this person intended to convey something vital.

Atlantis: an ancient civilization supposedly existing over ten thousand years ago on the shores of the Atlantic, said to possess a level of advancement unattainable by contemporary humanity, yet destroyed by an unknown, catastrophic natural disaster.

Today, descriptions of Atlantis survive only in myth, yet some still persistently search for vestiges of this ancient nation.

Some claim Atlantis sank beneath the sea, while others theorize that the entire nation was built upon a massive flying disc that, when the time was right, lifted the entire country into space.

Those who support the second theory base their deduction on the concentric circle structure of Atlantean architecture, noting its striking resemblance to the outline of a flying saucer.