The roar of the massive waterfalls was ceaseless, like rolling thunder, and hearing it at such close range profoundly shook our very core. Maintaining composure in this environment was nearly impossible; as several old vines snapped, our bodies plummeted violently. Had it not been for the safety rope around Fatty's waist, the three of us would have already plunged into the deep pool below.

But this current predicament—unable to ascend or descend—was far more perilous. Those "Xianying" were once half-human, half-insect, but over this time, their bodies had undergone significant alteration. Human features were receding, while insectoid characteristics became strikingly pronounced; they were now half-insect, half-ghoul, their hideous faces too dreadful to behold directly.

They were crawling down the sheer cliff face from the "Gourd Mouth" in an endless stream, relying on the suction cups on their bodies and the barbs on their forelimbs to rapidly envelop us, clinging to the clinging vines.

I was suspended upside down, dangling from the vines, the deep green pool below making my vision swim. I struggled desperately to invert my body. This movement was too sudden, snapping another of the three vines holding us. Our bodies dropped again, nearly shattering my waist, saved only because Shirley Yang managed to hook her ice axe into the rock face, temporarily finding a purchase.

I managed a wry smile. "We’ve really kicked a hornet's nest this time." As I spoke, I raised the IAI and shot two of the half-insect people who had already climbed above our heads. As one fell past me, it brushed my body, leaving behind a stench so foul it made me gag. I immediately pressed myself tightly against the cliff, lest its downward momentum drag me along into the deep pool. Falling from this height into the water was no joke; if the depth wasn't sufficient, it would be no different from jumping off a building.

Shirley Yang, clinging to the sheer precipice, shouted to me, "Old Hu, these vines won't last much longer. We need to get to the boardwalk quickly."

I replied, "That's the plan, but this is a death-defying stunt. Hurry up and pray to your God to perform a miracle."

After speaking, I glanced at Fatty beside me. He dared not open his eyes at this height, clutching two or three old vines for dear life. The safety rope around his waist was pulled taut, and the rock pitons above were likely near their limit supporting his weight; bits of shattered stone and plant debris were falling down with a sizzling sound.

The boardwalk was originally below and to our side, but after the sudden drop, it was now almost level with us. However, the few meters in between formed a reverse slope, utterly barren. The only way across was to grip the vines and ropes, swinging side-to-side like a pendulum, building momentum until we could finally swing across to the boardwalk.

I handed the IAI submachine gun to Shirley Yang. "You cover me. I’ll get Fatty across first, then you, and I’ll bring up the rear." There was no room for negotiation in this situation. Shirley Yang held onto a thick vine with one hand, braced the stock of the gun with her forearm, and rested the barrel on the ice axe secured to the rock face as she fired. She constantly adjusted her angle, knocking down the "Xianren" that managed to climb near them.

I strapped my backpack onto Fatty and kicked him forcefully in the rear with both feet. Fatty immediately understood my intent when I kicked him, yelling, "I came here to open tombs, not to be a damn circus acrobat!"

Before he finished speaking, Fatty swung across towards the boardwalk with a tremor in his voice, but lacking sufficient force, his swing barely reached 30 degrees before he swung back. The vine Fatty was holding scraped against a sharp rock and snapped twice with a crackle. The climbing rope tightened even more, clearly on the verge of breaking.

I knew this time I had to exert every ounce of strength. With only one climbing rope left, it was almost impossible to bear the weight of Fatty and his heavy equipment. We had only one shot left. If the force wasn't enough, we’d be fishing him out of the river.

Just then, the sound of the IAI firing, like a typewriter, suddenly stopped—Shirley Yang had likely run out of ammunition. The remaining drum magazines were in the backpack, and reloading on this sheer cliff was impossible. The situation was now critical. I gathered all my strength, first swinging as far as possible to the side and back, gripping the old vine and kicking Fatty's large rear with both feet.

I exerted myself so intensely that my mind went blank; all I heard was Fatty’s roar of "Aoo!" As the climbing rope snapped, Fatty landed on a stone slab of the boardwalk, but the lower part of his legs dangled in the empty air over the broken edge. The boardwalk, already not close to us, had been further collapsed by nearly a meter under his impact.

The section of the ancient "boardwalk" closest to our position was constructed when the "Tomb of the Xian King" was built, spiraling down the cliff face in tiers, encircling it. When we entered the valley, we had seen the dam that diverted the water. At that time, these waterfalls had been diverted, so a section of the boardwalk once passed through here; it must have been destroyed by the waterfalls later, making this section a ruin. Fatty smashed down a few stone slabs, but he finally managed to pull himself up, lying flat, utterly shaken, with barely a sliver of life left, muttering "Amitabha" repeatedly.

I helped heave Fatty onto the "boardwalk," but the exertion was too great; one of the last two vines supporting me snapped. The single remaining vine could break at any moment. Looking up again, I saw Shirley Yang reversing the stock of her IAI, batting away a Xianying that had managed to latch onto her shoulder. On the jade-green cliff face, the hideous insects seemed to cover it in a thick layer, like a blanket of white maggots, forming a crescent-shaped cordon that had already enveloped the two of us.

I quickly sprang upward, hooking a withered vine on the side, and yelled to Shirley Yang, "Your turn. Go, quickly!" This was no time for courtesy. Shirley Yang pushed off with her feet, swinging towards the boardwalk. For the first time, her momentum wasn't enough; she needed to swing back and forth to build up force. Seeing this, I prepared to repeat my move, raising my foot to kick her backside.

However, Shirley Yang also raised both feet, pushing off my foot to propel herself toward the boardwalk, then let go, landing next to Fatty. By then, Fatty had also regained his senses and pulled out another "Chicago Typewriter" from his pack, shooting the "Xianying" near me one by one into the deep pool.

Yet, even with the IAI's powerful firepower, it was just a drop in the bucket here, unable to hold back the tide-like waves of half-human, half-insect monsters. However, the ancient boardwalk must have been treated with some secret mixture against insects and ants, as these creatures would not approach it, instead swarming entirely towards me.

I had thrown away my entrenching tool and ice axe during the swim; I only had a Russian paratrooper knife on me. It was difficult to use on this sheer cliff face, so I snatched up the ice axe Shirley Yang had stabbed into the rock and began hacking wildly.

Under the covering fire from Fatty and Shirley Yang's dual guns, I was temporarily safe from death, but completely surrounded. Self-preservation was all I could manage; I had no opportunity to swing over to the "boardwalk."

Shirley Yang had a sudden idea and was about to throw a rope to help me when the vine I was clinging to was gnawed through. Although these thousand-year-old vines were brittle, they were incredibly tough. The "Xianying," like a pack of rabid dogs, ignored the barbs breaking off in their mouths and simply wouldn't let go of the tendrils they bit.

At this life-or-death moment, I unleashed two hundred percent of my body's potential. Feeling the old vine loosen, before my body could begin to drop, I leaped sideways, grabbing another vine. But this movement, unfortunately, put me even farther from the "boardwalk."

As my hand just grasped this new vine, a red-eyed "Xianying" suddenly leaped down from the cliff, latching directly onto my back. It opened its four mouths, lined with barbs, and aimed for the back of my head to bite. I smelled a fetid stench and knew instantly this was bad. If it bit down, those four monstrous mouths could easily engulf my entire head. I sharply turned my head, causing it to miss.

The ice axe I was using as a weapon was seized firmly by another "Xianying," rendering it useless for defense against the attack from behind. My head had jerked to the side, but I hadn't escaped the range of the creature clinging to my back. It turned to bite again; I had no way to evade. Seeing the sickeningly pink, fleshy barbs in its monstrous mouth rushing toward my face—

A burst of IAI rounds zipped past the skin of my neck, blowing off the head of the "Xianying" behind me, clean off at the neck. I felt a hot splash on my neck, and insect blood splattered across the back of my head.

I didn't have time to check if it was Fatty or Shirley Yang who fired, but the shooter who saved my life must have considered that shooting the creature's head would splash toxic insect blood into my mouth; therefore, they used precise marksmanship to sever its neck. While Shirley Yang's shooting was also excellent, her shots lacked a certain ferocity. Someone who could strike the vital point directly and with such accuracy had to be Fatty.

The ice axe in my hand was firmly clamped in the insect's mouth, holding tight, and I was struggling to shake it loose. Suddenly, three more "Xianying" jumped down from the cliff, mimicking the one whose head had just been shot off, and lunged directly at me. Two of them were killed mid-air by Shirley Yang's and Fatty's IAIs, but the remaining one managed to jump onto my back again.

I still had the headless corpse of the first insect clinging to my back, and now a second live one was added. The vine in my hand could no longer bear the strain and snapped instantly. Almost simultaneously, the supporting fire from my comrades shattered the second insect's head into fragments, but I lost my center of gravity, two headless insect corpses dragging behind me as I tumbled backward into the air, plunging straight down.

The roar of water filled my ears. Because the weight of my upper body was excessive, my head was heavy while my feet were light, causing me to fall headfirst toward the deep pool. Mid-air, all I could see was ink-green, unable to distinguish east from west, with only a circle of daylight shimmering above. The vertical, perilous cliffs extended downward like an iron wall. In that moment, it felt as though I had fallen into a massive green funnel; my entire body was ice-cold, as if I had fallen alone into the eighteenth cavern of the netherworld, infinitely distant from the human realm.