Volume One: Eight Coffin Corpse Field Chapter 26: Fierce Battle

In this darkness, any slight change in the surrounding environment was enough to make our nerves taut with tension.

All the more so when, without warning, footsteps sounded ahead of us. Instantly, the memory of that figure—neither dead nor alive—appearing at the elevator doors the last time flashed through my mind. Both of us instinctively swung our flashlights toward the source of the footsteps.

But the result was the same—it was simply too dark. The beams of our flashlights could only weakly illuminate a short distance ahead, appearing feeble and insignificant in the boundless sea of shadow.

Those footsteps, almost as if toying with us, came at an unhurried pace—shuffle, shuffle—suggesting there was more than one person.

I glanced behind us, but it was pitch-black as well. In this enclosed space, there was nowhere to run, no matter how hard we tried. At that moment, a vague intuition stirred in me: perhaps the reason this commercial building was plagued with so many strange incidents lay hidden in this underground parking lot.

What must come will come—I'd already accepted this after what happened in the elevator moments ago. Instead of trembling in fear, it was better to face things calmly. Rather than waiting helplessly for doom, it was better to rise and meet adversity head-on.

Now, in retrospect, that saying rings true: Without weathering the storm, how can one see the rainbow? After a series of shocks, and with my third uncle gone, I found that the latent strength within me had been awakened.

Clutching the peachwood sword in my hand, I shouted toward the footsteps, "Who’s there? Stop playing tricks!"

My sudden outburst drew no response from our unseen adversary; instead, it startled Liang Yue beside me.

She yelped and scolded, "Are you out of your mind?"

The fighting spirit I had worked so hard to summon was doused by her words.

Moreover, our voices echoed in the empty underground space, heightening the already nerve-wracking atmosphere with an added sense of terror.

But in those few moments, shadowy figures began to emerge ahead of us.

I swallowed hard and gripped the peachwood sword even tighter. All I could do now was hope that my third uncle, realizing we’d been separated, would find his way here. Surely, if anyone could, it would be him—after all, he was my third uncle.

But we had to hold out until he arrived, and right now, we faced the trickiest problem of all.

Were these things ahead of us human, ghost, or something in between? The answer would be revealed soon enough.

Suddenly, caught in the twin beams of our flashlights, two people appeared ahead. Or, at least, for now, I would call them people—for they scarcely looked human.

Their hair was wild and unkempt, and the pallor of their faces matched the lifeless gray of their skin.

There are many shades of gray, but the gray of death is unmistakable—linked, of course, with the absence of life.

When my grandfather passed, I had seen the unprocessed color of a corpse’s skin for the first time—it was exactly this hue. Never before had I felt such fear from a mere color.

The two figures, with their ashen complexions, looked eerie and menacing. Their eyes were open, yet as vacant and lifeless as those of a rag doll in a street stall, utterly devoid of spirit or emotion.

Only now did I truly understand why eyes are called the windows to the soul. Eyes may not speak, but they can convey a myriad of emotions. Perhaps, by looking into someone’s eyes, you can tell if they are alive or dead.

The two people before us were, without a doubt, not among the living.

But if they weren’t alive, how could they still walk? In just one night, the events unfolding in this building had already upended everything I once believed about the world. There were, it seemed, many inexplicable and uncanny happenings in this world, for which we had no answer.

At this moment, I had no doubt that Liang Yue was equally shaken—for I noticed her hand, gripping the knife, trembling ever so slightly.

That was a natural response for anyone faced with such a scene.

The two upright, walking things advancing step by step toward us were, I was now certain, not living people, but corpses—two walking corpses.

Just then, Liang Yue blurted something out that cemented my suspicion.

She shouted at one of them, "Chen... Chen Wanli..."

I remembered that name. On the rooftop, a shadow had leapt from the building. Liang Yue said she saw the person’s face—it was a franchise owner in this mall, named Chen Wanli. Yet Chen Wanli had clearly jumped to his death just last month.

Now, with Liang Yue recognizing Chen Wanli again and everything I’d observed, what could he be, if not a corpse?

Despite being mentally prepared, seeing two corpses slowly closing in, both Liang Yue and I instinctively began to back away.

Just then, the flute music that had been lingering in the subterranean space suddenly quickened in tempo. From mournful and winding, it turned shrill and piercing—from a gentle stream to a surging torrent, vast and overwhelming.

The two approaching corpses, as if responding to the music, suddenly picked up their pace, taking several quick steps and launching themselves at us.

I heard Liang Yue cry out as she engaged Chen Wanli in close combat.

As the other corpse lunged at me, I realized—it was a woman.

Her tangled hair veiled half her face, exposing only one dull, grayish-white eye, devoid of any vitality. Mouth half-open, she lunged at me. I was so caught off guard that I could smell the stench of rot wafting from her mouth.

I nearly gagged. With no time to react, I reflexively kicked her.

With a dull thud, she only staggered back slightly, while the impact sent a jolt through my ankle and I fell backward.

Scrambling to my feet, I saw the female corpse coming at me again, arms outstretched, grasping for me.

Gritting my teeth, I drove the peachwood sword hard into her chest.

The force of her attack was great, and I put all my strength into the thrust. Though the sword was made of peachwood, whatever method my third uncle had used to craft it made it surprisingly sharp and resilient. The blade sliced easily through her clothes and pierced her chest.

From that earlier kick, I realized her body was incredibly rigid, which was why both Liang Yue and I felt the shock in our ankles. My thrust was more instinct than strategy, but to my surprise, the peachwood sword sank easily two inches into the corpse’s flesh.

There was no blood; instead, the wound hissed and sizzled.

Whether from pain or some other reaction, the female corpse opened her mouth wide, a wheezing sound rattling from her throat like a bellows with a leak. She retreated quickly, and I hastily gripped the sword handle and pulled it out.

Shining my flashlight on the blade, I saw that the section that had pierced her was now completely blackened.

The female corpse, after retreating, seemed wary of the peachwood sword and stood her ground, not daring to approach.

Just then, I heard a cry from Liang Yue and quickly turned to look.

She was already locked in battle with the other corpse. It was clear that Liang Yue was well-trained—her strength and agility were exceptional.

Yet, even though she wielded a sharper dagger and had managed to stab Chen Wanli several times, the blade could only penetrate about half an inch, and Chen Wanli didn’t seem to care at all, still attacking Liang Yue relentlessly.

His clothes were already shredded by her knife, exposing much of his body. His skin, too, was that deathly gray, and under the flashlight’s beam, it glistened with a greasy, slimy film. With every movement, bits of it flaked off, accumulating in a whitish layer on the ground.

I could only imagine how much of that stuff had smeared onto Liang Yue during their struggle. The fact that she hadn’t thrown up yet filled me with a kind of awe.

Despite her impressive skills, things were looking grim for Liang Yue. Since Chen Wanli never dodged or retreated, he had her cornered.

I rushed over and stabbed at Chen Wanli with my peachwood sword.

He had his back to me, and my blade pierced his shoulder blade, sinking in over two inches, just as it had with the female corpse.

Chen Wanli straightened, emitting a guttural, inhuman sound from his throat, and paused his attack on Liang Yue.

Seizing the opportunity, Liang Yue broke free from the corner and stood by my side, gasping for breath.

I tried to pull the peachwood sword free, but to my dismay, it must have wedged itself into his bones—I tugged twice to no avail.

Suddenly, Chen Wanli turned to face me, and with a powerful twist, the sword flew from my grasp.

At that moment, the flute music, after a brief pause, began again.

Chen Wanli finally uttered a deep, muffled sound, as if his throat were blocked by something. He spun around, flinging the peachwood sword to the ground.

My heart sank. The peachwood sword was the only thing I could depend on, the only thing that seemed to give these corpses pause. Now it was lost, and these bodies felt neither fatigue nor pain. If this kept up, there would be only one outcome for Liang Yue and me.

The two corpses regrouped and charged at us again.

Liang Yue tried to rush forward once more, but I stopped her, urgently saying, "Don’t bother—it’s useless. We can’t beat them. I’ll hold them off; you hurry and find the exit, the car entrance!"

She shot me a complicated look and said, "Don’t try to play the hero—I don’t need saving."

But by then, Chen Wanli was already upon us. I didn’t have time to reply. I swung the flashlight at his head.

His body was hard as stone, but his skull was surprisingly brittle—my blow caved in a part of his head like a deflated ball. White brain matter oozed out, nauseatingly vivid.

(End of this chapter)