Zhang Linhai shouted nervously into the tunnel.

"It's me~"

A distorted echo came from the tunnel, sounding like someone answering from afar.

Zhang Linhai could see nothing at this moment, his eyes unable to adjust to the sudden darkness. He felt like a blind man, and his other senses were completely blocked. A sense of irrational fear once again overwhelmed him, and he could almost hear the murderer's footsteps approaching.

He felt himself suffocating, his body involuntarily stopped breathing, he was pinned to the wall by his own hands, he was holding his suitcase tightly. He couldn't leave here, he couldn't think, he heard some air flow, like a monster was breathing in his face.

Goosebumps stood up on his body, and a warm current ran through his trouser legs again.

"Woo woo~"

He wanted to roar a few times to give himself courage, but when the sound passed through his tightly closed vocal cords, it turned into a cowardly and humble wail.

Time passed by, and he still couldn't see his surroundings clearly. He had been under the light for a long time, so he couldn't feel the darkness.

He was now in a dilemma. Subconsciously, he wanted to go back, even if it was hiding in his own dormitory, it would be better than staying in this dark place; but he couldn't go back at all. Not to mention the killer hiding in the darkness, he had already forgotten the way back.

After a while, he realized he could see a little better. The strange sensations he'd felt earlier faded as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Although the tunnel was still very dim, the emergency lights seemed to be working. He felt saved. There was no one around except him.

He tried to lift his feet, but the wet trouser legs stuck to his legs, and he felt a little cool.

One step, two steps...

Zhang Linhai regained the ability to walk upright.

This is something to be happy about, and this is something to be sad about.

He changed direction by feeling the tunnel wall. When reality surpasses cognition, memory is no longer reliable.

He felt that the environment in the tunnel had changed, and he regretted his impulsiveness. Impulsiveness is the devil, and impulsive people are fools.

The tunnel was like the nasal cavity of a giant, with air constantly buffeting Zhang Linhai. He felt the tunnel come alive, its walls constantly wriggling, as if trying to push this alien object, him, to where he belonged. He saw a hole open in the tunnel, the surrounding darkness squeezing his space, forcing him to exit through that opening.

At the beginning, he planned to write down his route, but after a few turns, he gave up that unrealistic idea.

He is lost.

This is really ridiculous. A manager who should know his working environment best disappeared because he got lost during his tenure.

Of course, someone who's lost isn't aware they're lost. In reality, Zhang Linhai only feels like he's moving forward. Theoretically, as long as he keeps moving forward, he'll eventually return to where he started.

He had been holding onto his suitcase, the weight of which had already slowed him down. He hadn't considered letting it go yet. These things were of no use to him, and carrying them was no different from not carrying them. Since carrying them was no different from not carrying them, then he might as well carry them. It was the same as not carrying them anyway.

He didn't try to shout in the tunnel. Getting lost was embarrassing enough, and his leadership couldn't be shattered. He just walked forward in silence, like a sage who had transcended base desires, seemingly unhurried.

It's just an appearance...

Zhang Linhai didn't know how long he'd been walking, perhaps hours, perhaps days. Hunger, thirst, fatigue—these feelings came one after another, and sometimes he even felt short of breath. He walked slower and slower, until he was finally crawling.

He had never thought about death. He was still young. At the age of thirty, he could already reach such a position. He was sure that he could go even further. He grabbed a rock in front of him and climbed forward a few meters.

He stretched out his hand feebly towards the distance, his hoarse throat unable to shout any more. He was almost there; this was the right path. He had been following the current; it must be coming from the tunnel exit!

Behind him, the suitcase had broken, and the gold, silver and treasures inside were scattered all over the floor. . . .

"That's it." Li Xiang put the toolbox back on the shelf.

"Is it necessary to cut off the power? What if there are still people down there?" Xiao Xi asked.

Li Xiang didn't answer. He paused, staring into the dark tunnel in the distance. Someone beside him spoke up at the perfect moment: "It's been so many days. Those who could have left long ago."

"Indeed! To be honest, I thought you all died in there." Huang Yi added.

They were at a transfer station six hundred meters underground. Li Xiang arrived first, and over the next few days, he gradually welcomed the remaining four people. This transfer station was converted from a former iron ore deposit, primarily used to temporarily store ore, supplies, and equipment.

The six people's gathering here was just a coincidence, at least they thought it was a coincidence. They reviewed their experiences and found many strange clues hidden behind them.

Of those who had been to Area B, only Xiao Xi seemed to have survived. The others had all died in various accidents, while Qin Le and the others had encountered numerous emergencies in their quest for survival, including but not limited to tunnel collapses, toxic gases, and explosions. If Qin Le and the others had not been well prepared, they would have certainly died down there.

My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!