Volume 1 Chapter 9 Provisions

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“Apprentice, our mouths have truly been blessed,” Master Qi chuckled upon seeing the scene. His gaze swept over the stunned crowd before slightly tilting upward toward a corner of the tomb chamber.

“Hey, you’re caught red-handed, no need to hide anymore. Come out now; we’ll give you a ride since we’re headed that way,” he called out.

No sooner had he spoken than two shadowy figures slipped out from behind a coffin in the corner—two furtive characters crouching low as they emerged.

The first was short and thin, with a flat face, a pointed chin, short brows, triangular eyes, and a forehead creased with wrinkles that conveyed a sharp and fierce intelligence. The second was disheveled, with bloodshot eyelids, a round, plump mouth dripping saliva, and a foolish grin, murmuring nonsense incessantly.

Both wore brown-green work uniforms with tightly bound cuffs. Their faces bore the color of yellow clay, and deep dark circles encircled their eyes. Their exposed brass-colored skin was frostbitten to a bluish hue. Their rubber-soled shoes were cracked, leaking mud that left damp footprints on the ground. Upon closer inspection, mud splattered from their collars down to their ankles; they looked like two strings of freshly unearthed, poor-quality peanuts.

No one dared shine a flashlight directly into their eyes, yet they scurried timidly like frightened moles, never daring to meet our gaze.

One does no evil, fears no ghosts knocking at the door.

These were obviously tomb raiders.

Seeing this, my doubts dissolved: the tomb raiding gang had suffered three deaths and one severe injury, totaling four people. Detectives in our task force found this hard to believe. We guessed they must have had accomplices offshore or other partners trapped and killed in the tomb. Tomb raiding crews usually have a fixed number of members, but they are superstitious and rarely form teams of four or ten, numbers considered unlucky.

Now, with these two, a total of six tomb raiders made much more sense.

“Why were you hiding in the tomb? Are there any other accomplices nearby?” I asked bluntly.

The short man opened his mouth to answer, but his companion interrupted with a foolish smile, blurting out, “They’re dead... all dead...”

Hmm? Everyone’s attention snapped to him, ears perked up.

The man continued with a silly grin, “I saw two white-bearded immortals playing chess inside the cave. One gave me a wooden stick that turned into a poisonous snake. Then the snake bit us all to death, hehehe...”

What nonsense. I fixed my gaze on the other raider, demanding an explanation.

The short man glanced at his companion and sighed, “My six brothers... we encountered some sinister thing in the tomb, and everyone got scared silly.”

Enough. I had no time for their ghost stories. Impatiently, I interrupted and ordered them each to pick a wall, slowly raise their hands, face the wall, and turn around.

The short man probably knew police procedures from prior arrests. Upon hearing this, he immediately panicked:

“Why should we? Are you police? Show me your badge!”

Ridiculous. Who dives underwater carrying a badge to show a great white shark?

I tapped my chest irritably—underneath was the standard police uniform borrowed from the water police brothers. I briefly explained that when wearing the official uniform on duty, suspects need not be shown a badge.

At the same time, I gave Master Qi a subtle nod. He understood and quickly pulled out his baton, slowly approaching the other tomb raider still grinning foolishly.

I donned gloves and moved toward the dejected short man, thoroughly searching him.

He wasn’t dangerous. His pocket held half a pack of compressed biscuits; the only suspicious item was a folding knife, which I kicked away. Glancing near his feet, I noticed a water bottle.

It had been over half a week since the entire tomb raiding gang met their misfortune and were discovered. Presumably, these two had been surviving on scant food and water, hiding in the tomb’s open courtyard, barely clinging to life.

I let him relax a little and asked a few simple questions:

“What’s your name?”

“Old Five,” he answered, using an alias.

“Where are you from?”

“Local from the West Sea.”

“How old?”

“Forty-eight.”

“Education, political status, occupation?”

“Elementary school graduate, unemployed.”

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“Why tomb raiding?”

“Short of money. The boss sent us, number two found the place, number three led the way, number four provided the tools. Old Six and I just dig the earth to earn some hard-earned pay.”

“Why didn’t you go out with the others?”

“We had just reached the main burial chamber when we suddenly encountered a giant centipede. Everyone got scared and ran everywhere. The two of us got separated from the group.”

“A giant centipede?”

“Yeah, a hundred-legged centipede, blood-red all over, hissing like a venomous snake. It’s thicker than a coconut tree trunk—when it stands upright, it’s five or six meters long and bites anyone it sees...”

“Okay. You can shut up now. I think you’re crazy,” I said wearily, standing up, feeling this guy was wasting my time.

Even a three-year-old knows centipedes live on land, burrowing like earthworms. Even if there’s a “sea centipede” (commonly called ‘sandworm’), it’s just bait for fishermen, about the length of a pinky finger, like a red worm.

I know the sea holds many strange creatures, but not that strange. To survive for a thousand years in a sealed underwater tomb with no food source, then grow into such a monster? Writing a paper on that would win a Nobel Prize in physiology and medicine.

Master, I turned to call Qi. He was surprisingly chatting with the silly Old Six, laughing and joking as if they were getting along well—both clearly not sane.

Master! I raised my voice again.

Qi finally noticed me, bringing Old Six over and asked, “How’s it going here?”

“Going where? These tomb raiders are lying through their teeth, babbling about giant centipedes biting them and getting separated. Let’s take them out first, then interrogate them properly,” I said irritably.

“Giant centipede? Didn’t you see it?” Qi feigned surprise.

“What, you’re crazy too? In on the joke to scare me?” I retorted sharply. “Unless you produce a certificate of intermittent mental illness, I’ll report you for deliberately delaying police work.”

“You’re such a kid, so childish, always tattling,” Qi smiled, no longer teasing me. He pulled a small object from his pocket.

I recognized it immediately—a treasure he had picked from the ruins of the first stone door.

He pointed mysteriously at the stone and said, “Apprentice, look, what’s this?”

I glanced casually. “What? It’s just a pretty ordinary reef stone.”

But upon closer inspection, I noticed something—the stone was shaped like a coin, thin in the middle, with two flat, smooth sides. Surprisingly, it was covered with intertwined gray-white and dark brown striped markings.

“Gross... what is this?” I touched it through my diving gloves. The markings felt soft, elastic, and sticky—nothing like natural stone patterns, more like secretions dragged by some insect.

I’m mildly germophobic.

A chill ran through me instantly.

Qi explained it was likely the activity trace of a giant sea creature. At the first stone door, there were many similar traces, but he hadn’t examined them closely before seawater flooded in. Luckily, his eyes were like HD cameras; once he saw something, he wouldn’t forget. He replayed it in his mind and judged, based on the continuity of the secretions, that the creature was thick and long, about the size of a Southeast Asian reticulated python.

It’s well known that deep-sea environments are harsh—low oxygen, low temperature, scarce food. Under such conditions, large size helps retain heat, reduce loss, increase hunting efficiency, and allow creatures to travel farther for food. The deep-sea niche is broad, letting large creatures occupy different roles and reduce competition. Documentaries show giant squids and fish tens of meters long—common sights.

But a worm living in seawater year-round, as big as a python? That thought gave me goosebumps.

“Could there really be a sea centipede?” I frowned.

“Not quite, but this sea creature must look very much like a centipede,” Qi said thoughtfully, glancing at the two raiders crouched, heads in hands. “These tomb raiders aren’t biologists; seeing an unknown creature, they can only roughly describe it, not give it a scientific name.”

A sea creature resembling a centipede?

I quickly made a mental list of suspects: sea snakes, rock sandworms, Pompeii worms.

I’m no biologist, but in West Sea City’s cultural relic investigation police, we’re well-versed in biology. Handling relic cases, we often see strange creatures on ancient tombs or antiques—some pure imagination, some ancient creatures with evidence. We must document these properly for superiors, not just rely on myths.

“Most sea snakes have flattened tails, making land movement difficult. They likely wouldn’t chase tomb raiders around biting,” Qi analyzed. “As for Pompeii worms and giant tube worms, they can’t move freely in such caves and prefer hot environments near hydrothermal vents. Living in such a cold underwater tomb would freeze their ancestors solid.”

“After all the analysis, none of our native sea creatures fit the raiders’ description,” I mused.

“Five meters long, amphibious, attacking humans? Sea creature? Might as well be Godzilla,” Qi laughed.

Five meters? Nearby archaeologists overheard and stopped their work, looking at us in shock.

I reminded Qi to keep his voice down or we’d scare the team.

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Qi chuckled, “What’s there to be scared of? When I worked a cross-border case in Australia, I tried their local delicacy—sea sandworm. Honestly, if you don’t think of it as a worm, it’s quite tasty, like eating abalone.”

I frowned, feeling that comparison was odd.

While we were engrossed in insect talk, an archaeologist made a new discovery.

He pointed at a wooden coffin, shouting wildly like a dancing native, “I just tried lifting one coffin; it’s very light. I tapped it and hey, it’s empty inside!”

“Empty? Everyone, gather ’round, I want to hear this,” Qi said, knocking on a coffin and listening closely.

“Hmm, definitely empty. But the nails outside are solid. We’ll probably need pincers to pry it open later.” Qi glanced at the curious archaeologists, who eagerly awaited our announcement.

Qi patted the coffin with a smile, then stood and left, saying, “Sorry, this trip’s too rushed. I’ll print more leader business cards later; you can slip them inside before opening.”

I had no patience for their antics and turned to Old Five, “Did you two hide inside the coffins before? Did you check them all? Are they all empty inside?”

“Yes, all empty,” Old Five nodded hastily.

My expression changed instantly. Old Five glanced nervously and quickly corrected himself, “No, no, we didn’t pry them all open. We only pried one coffin, and it happened to be empty. Really, just that one! Officer...”

His voice lowered, trying to cover something up.

I snapped irritably, “Are you scared of light? With such a spacious place, why hide in coffins?”

Old Five hesitated, then said, “Not long ago, I saw water leaking from the wall, scared me thinking the tomb was flooding. It’s an underwater tomb—if seawater floods in, we’re done for. So we quickly found a coffin and hid inside.”

Qi and I exchanged a glance.

“Did you see seawater flooding in?”

“Yes, right there,” Old Five said, then moved a one-meter-high Buddha statue niche carved into the wall, which was detachable.

“At that moment, I heard a loud crash, rushed over, and saw the cave leaking!”

Old Five explained that turning left after entering, there was a narrow opening like a crack, barely passable by turning sideways. Seawater flowed out from there.

“I found the place strange. After the water drained, I quickly put the niche back and didn’t dare venture deeper,” he said. He planned to wait a few more days until supplies ran out and then take a chance.

Unexpectedly, the police arrived first.

So the exit was here. The archaeologists and we were all relieved, looking at the opening.

“Finally, we can get out and dry our clothes,” Qi stretched comfortably, his tall legs relieved after being cramped in the narrow cave too long.

Then, he escorted the two tomb raiders, turning left into the cave behind the niche.

I exhaled in relief.

Standing aside, I watched everyone enter one by one.

But just as I bent down to follow, the radio crackled—the long-silent informant’s voice shattered my reverie like a persistent nightmare:

“Dear Officer Shi, don’t rush to leave. Remember our agreement?”

His tone was urgent, barely containing excitement. He even addressed me formally:

“Please proceed forward and open the fourth stone door.”

“The ‘souvenir’ I want is right behind that stone door!”