Chapter Twenty-Six: An Unsolved Mystery

Do not forget, they once laid traps to hunt dangerous beasts.

The Duchess said, “Let me go first.”

I asked her why, and she answered that she could activate the electric current device.

I had almost forgotten about that.

Vasilisa shouted, “Close the door to the First Contact Zone.”

A woman’s voice replied, “Yes, ma’am,” and the explosion-proof door was shut. The process took only seconds, yet made our hearts race, for we had all witnessed the speed of the prisoner.

Once the door was sealed, we allowed ourselves a brief moment of relief.

We stood in a room of pure white, two hundred meters long, thirty meters wide, and, driven by survival instinct, we ran with all our might, soon returning to the entrance.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The explosion-proof door leading to the First Contact Zone bent and loosened under violent impact, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Betty shouted, “He’s recovered!”

Vasilisa said, “He is starving. He wants to drain the blood of every one of us, and he can track us by scent!”

At that moment, I wished my blood were foul and undrinkable.

Lamia said, “Let the control room activate the electric grid.”

I said, “Don’t call the wrong system—there are nuclear warheads below.”

Salvador: “Fishbone, stop talking so much!”

Vasilisa ignored my interruption and shouted, “Use my authority—activate the electric grid in the Second Contact Zone!”

I heard the roar behind the door, the crackle of electricity. I wanted to press my ear close, hoping to hear Abel’s dying gasp, but Mircea pulled me back, saying, “Careful, you’ll get electrocuted.”

I thought about it—he was right. Seventy thousand volts. If it reached peak output, I’d be ashes before even touching the door.

Vasilisa said, “We can’t stop. We must get to the elevator and return to the surface.”

The door behind me trembled, thudding again and again, parting from the frame. I wondered if I was imagining things—how could he still have the strength to knock?

The next second, we all realized the danger and ran for our lives.

I said, “The grid can’t kill him? He’s bathed in electricity!”

Vasilisa said, “That’s the reality!”

I snapped, “Who said we could definitely conquer him?”

The Duchess said, “I’m in a foul mood. If you don’t want to die before me, I suggest you shut up.”

There was a Zen wisdom in her words. I found them reasonable.

Entering the Third Contact Zone, Vasilisa shouted, “Heavy machine guns ready! Heavy toxins ready! If the target is sighted, attack immediately!” With that, we rushed into the elevator, ascending through the shaft toward the sea surface.

The machine guns were loaded with Sword of God rounds, enough to knock down countless red demons. The toxins in the room should be able to kill tens of thousands. If he survived even that, there would be no hope left for us.

Suddenly, Vasilisa collapsed and lost consciousness.

I said, “Why not leave her behind? Maybe the prisoner only has a personal vendetta with her. What does it have to do with us? If he sees we’re so sensible, he’ll forgive us.”

Mircea shouted angrily, “What did you say?”

I said, “I say, we leave the culprit for the prisoner! Whoever made the mistake should be responsible. What’s wrong with that?”

Mircea said, “I swore to protect her with my life. Even if it’s you, I won’t allow you to harm the Duchess!”

I said, “You have your stance, but don’t I have my own reasons? Vasilisa is important to you, but isn’t Chief Lamia important to me?”

Mircea hugged Vasilisa and said, “She’s weak now. How can you take advantage of that? What did our foster father teach us?”

I raised my voice, “Orchid? It was Orchid, that madman, who killed everyone in the village! He’s just like Vasilisa. Vasilisa is just like Orchid! They led those who loved them to destruction for their own desires! Innocent people shouldn’t suffer such misfortune! Lamia shouldn’t, Dali shouldn’t! I will not allow tragedy to repeat itself!”

Mircea began to tremble. He asked, “You never tell me what happened in the village! What really happened back then?”

At that moment, we were passing through the final underwater gate, and the entire prison exploded. Flames boiled the sea, creating a whirlpool, the violent current battering the shaft. I was flung upward, bones rattling as if shattered.

I thought the nuclear warhead had been detonated, but fortunately, it wasn’t. The transparent elevator tube was incomparably sturdy, not a drop of water leaked in, but the power was out and we were stranded halfway up.

The seawater outside the tube was saturated with deadly toxins, capable of suffocating us instantly. We couldn’t leave. Hundreds of meters still separated us from the surface; if we went outside, even if not poisoned, we’d be crushed by the pressure. The elevator had air conditioning, but now, with the power out, the cabin was stifling, and the oxygen would soon run out.

Lamia sat up, blood streaming down her face. I supported her, and she leaned in, pressing her lips to mine.

I thought she’d been knocked senseless, but she smiled softly and whispered in my ear, “To spend my last moments with you is a kind of luck, isn’t it?”

I shouted, “What nonsense are you saying? We’re not dead yet!”

She said, “Yes, yes.” Hugging me, she said, “I wish I could bring you to the Tower and help you fulfill your dream. I promised you, but… I can’t do it now.”

I laid her head on my shoulder. She was so agitated, and for the first time, I saw her cry. This reckless woman—why was she crying? Her tears made me restless.

She said, “When I found out you were the one who saved me as a child, I was truly happy. I felt our meeting was destined.”

I wanted to save her, to use her, to have her promote me, to climb to the pinnacle of power atop the Tower with her.

I wanted to stay with her for a long time.

This wasn’t love. I was certain, for I am ambitious, detached from emotion, extraordinary. She was useful to me, I couldn’t do without her… for now, I couldn’t bear her dying.

Thinking carefully, how could she die? If I were as outstanding as I claimed, she would always be safe under my protection.

The elevator was truly dark—dark as the deep sea, mysterious, as if endless unknown creatures swam, lived, bred, hunted in the ocean. Even if humanity perished, even if all life was destroyed, the fish—the fish of the deep sea—would still live on as they always had, for centuries unchanging.

I looked at my left hand. My fingers were gone, black blood oozing from my palm. My cheek was cool and itchy—blood, perhaps, streaming from my eye sockets.

Lamia spoke to me. I watched her lips move, as if she said, “I love you.” But I heard no sound, and couldn’t tell if it was true.

Enough.

I had a brilliant idea, a truly great idea that would let me leap straight to the top. Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier? Fishbone, you clever brain, how could you almost miss such a golden opportunity?

I would go to the prisoner, Abel, and kill him.

The plan was flawless, all benefit and no harm.

First, the prisoner was hunting us. If he died, we would all survive.

Second, the prisoner defeated Vasilisa, who might be the strongest of the Nine Hermits of the Sword and Shield Society. Big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp. If I killed the prisoner, everyone in the Sword and Shield Society would be in awe of my feat.

Third, the Sword and Shield Society seemed to be forming an alliance with the Black Coffin. My reputation in the Society would certainly affect my prospects in the Black Coffin. The Society would owe me a favor, which would let me thrive in the Black Coffin, soar upward, and become a figure of renown.

Most importantly, I was sure I could kill the prisoner. Why such confidence? During our escape, the fish spine in my hand nearly killed him. This demon, immune to electric grids, gas, and gunfire, was almost slain by me. Why did the fish spine fall into my hands?

It was a gift from heaven.

Of course, there were many details to consider, but in an emergency, one could improvise and refine the details later. For now, let me act.

I swam out of the elevator, diving like a fish into the fiery depths. I saw the prisoner—he had somehow acquired a suit of Sword and Shield Society armor, protecting him from suffocation by the sea.

He saw me.

He seemed a little surprised.

He asked, “Who are you?”

I told him I had come to kill him. I regretted being so blunt—perhaps I should have used smooth words, deceived him, lulled him into carelessness, then stabbed him in the back, something I was quite good at.

I glanced at the fish spine in my hand—it couldn’t escape his notice.

Abel said, “You’re not human. No human could survive in this poisonous sea.”

Perhaps so, but such trivialities are unimportant. Just as your strength defies logic, why can’t I exploit a loophole?

Abel said, “You speak ancient Sumerian. Since I left my era, no one has understood it.”

For that little bit of kinship, would you let me stab your heart?

He laughed and said, “Your name?”

Longinus.

Abel: “Sounds familiar.”

You can also call me Fishbone.

Abel: “Fishbone? In the earliest times, my brother Cain slew me with his fishbone dagger. Jealous of God’s favor, he committed murder.”

I thought, “So fishbone can kill you—what wonderful news.”

Abel floated, surveying the surroundings. The sea grew even darker, black as impenetrable ink.

Only in such darkness can fish survive. Fish love darkness, fish love death.

Could this darkness kill the ancient man before me?

Abel’s gaze returned to me. “Interesting… was this your doing?”

Yes. All this time, I’ve fled from the fish, from the dark sea. I never understood why the fish followed me, watched me so closely, as if I owed them a debt.

But it’s true—I do owe them. Every time I faced mortal peril, it was the fish—the fish came for me. They, the shoals, seemed to possess infinite hunger, devouring all threats, leaving me with a lonely life. I feared their darkness would corrupt my heart, feared that because of them I’d lose my conscience, feared I’d bear all the sins of killing, feared I’d become one of those fish driven by appetite.

I tried to be a vile person, but quailed before true evil.

I didn’t even have the courage to become a real villain.

Abel floated in the darkness, a holy light radiating from his body. Those deities worshipped by humanity since ages past, those mysterious and distant saints, might never match his majesty at this moment.

Yet this god faced me, bowed his head slightly, showing respect, as if a deity recognized an equal.

Abel asked, “What is a fish?”

Fish are mysterious; they left me a riddle I could not solve. But if I tell you the riddle, perhaps you could enlighten me.

He told me he was curious.

The riddle is thus—

A fish is the dawn of light.

A fish is the origin of sin.

A fish is the morning star at dusk.

A fish is master of the darkness.