Chapter 142: The Snake That Could Speak

At the same time, I was not the only one who heard the sound; several others among us had also noticed it. We came to a halt and listened intently, but the sound seemed to have vanished, leaving us unable to determine its direction.

"Did you catch what that voice said just now?"

After I asked, the rest remained silent. A moment later, Lei Jun spoke up, "It sounded like just two words. The voice was too soft, so I couldn't make it out."

I pondered for a moment, but nothing came to mind, so we continued walking. Yet, after taking only a few steps, the sound returned. This time, having prepared myself in advance, I heard it clearly. The voice seemed to be saying: "Ghosts."

Indeed, it was precisely those two words. Not only me, but this time, everyone except San Piangua heard it. The voice was extremely distinct. At first, I had guessed that we might have run into the South Gate team, and that we had heard them vaguely because of the proximity. However, this time the sound clearly did not resemble an encounter with the others. Both the intonation, tone, and content of the voice seemed identical to what we had heard before, only slightly sharper. Upon recalling it carefully, the sound we had heard earlier really did seem to be those two words: "Ghosts." The more I retraced it in my mind, the clearer the voice became.

Why would these two words be uttered? Under such clear conditions, whoever was making the sound should have been very close to us. Yet, when we looked around and swept our flashlights in every direction, we spotted no one at all. It was truly bizarre.

In this subterranean cavern, the sudden and inexplicable utterance of the word "Ghosts" certainly left an unsettling feeling. Still, we were all people of considerable courage and felt no panic, merely perplexity.

Having searched around once more without finding anything, we had no choice but to press on. This tunnel appeared to be quite long, and the further we went, the more apparent it became that it was not formed by nature; there were unmistakable traces of manual excavation. I felt a pang of curiosity. Given the capabilities of the minor states back then—though "states" was perhaps too grand a term for what were essentially mere villages—how could their manpower and resources have ever sufficed to construct such a tunnel? One had to realize that building a passage of this scale demanded immense physical labor and material wealth.

Just then, the voice surfaced yet again. This time it was startlingly clear, and the sound appeared to originate from right beside us. At this realization, a sudden jolt of shock ran through me. Simultaneously, everyone drew their weapons and assumed defensive postures. The people I had brought along could each be considered seasoned, desperate veterans with exceptionally strong psychological resilience. Even San Piangua was a hardened figure, so there was no widespread panic.

Six high-intensity flashlights illuminated our surroundings, turning the area as bright as day, yet still nothing was found. At that moment, Zhang Feng suddenly shouted: "Above!"

I raised my head and was astonished to see a dark shadow darting downward. Upon hitting the ground, I realized it was actually a snake. Next came a spectacle that left us utterly dumbfounded: the snake actually spoke.

"Ghosts."

These two words had emerged from the mouth of this small serpent. In all my experience, I had never heard of a snake capable of human speech. I knew that mynahs and parrots could mimic human words, but a snake doing so was entirely unheard of.

"What kind of damned snake is this?"

The others stared intently at the little snake before them, but no one answered, all silently shaking their heads to indicate they had never heard of such a thing. When the flashlight beam swept over it, we noticed that this small snake had a red, fleshy protuberance atop its head. Its appearance was exceedingly bizarre; aside from the fleshy lump on its crown, its body was unusually short. At that moment, it stood upright on its tail, staring at us unblinkingly, creating an intensely eerie atmosphere.

I watched its posture, hesitant to make a sudden move. Although none of us present were afraid of snakes, this creature was simply too anomalous—not only strange in appearance, but shockingly capable of human speech.

San Piangua whispered, "Boss, this is genuinely my first time encountering this kind of snake. However, I’ve heard old folks talk about it in the past: Dragon Head Mountain is steeped in history, and immortals supposedly dwell within it. Could this be a pet raised by an immortal? Have we angered the deities here, and they’ve sent this little snake to warn us?"

Before I could respond to San Piangua's words, Guo Fan chimed in, "If you're afraid of ghosts, don't rob tombs; if you're robbing tombs, don't be afraid of ghosts. I've seen plenty of bizarre things in my day. Who gives a damn!"

With that, Guo Fan raised his Type-82 assault rifle and fired a controlled burst directly at the snake. The little snake was startled by the sudden gunfire, but how could it possibly outpace a bullet? Before it could react, its head was blown to pieces. Even after losing its head, the snake's body continued to thrash, but Guo Fan's reflexes were even faster. He immediately followed up with two more precise bursts, his marksmanship dead-on, striking the small snake repeatedly until it collapsed lifelessly onto the ground.

We stepped forward to inspect it and saw that the fleshy tumor on the snake's head had ruptured, oozing a green liquid. A peculiar fragrance began to drift through the air, deeply strange. Unsure whether the scent was toxic, everyone covered their noses as a precaution and prepared to leave. After all, this little snake was far too uncanny, and it was best to avoid further complications.

Before we had walked many steps, we noticed the ground beneath our feet growing extremely damp. Suddenly, Zhang Feng spoke up, "Here... this place looks a bit like the nest of something."

The moment Zhang Feng mentioned a nest, combined with the earlier encounter with the strange snake, a wave of dread washed over us. Immediately following that, an even more nerve-wracking event occurred: from the pitch darkness ahead came a sudden, rustling sound—the noise of serpents slithering, and not in small numbers. San Piangua and Zhang Feng were most familiar with this sound. The moment they heard it, both of them shouted almost in unison: "Fall back!"

Under these circumstances, even a fool would know what action to take. A snake swarm of such density was terrifying, especially in our current environment. The space was far too confined; if attacked by a mass of serpents, our group wouldn't even serve as a decent snack for them.

We retreated all the way back, only to discover, for reasons unknown, that the path behind us had turned into a dead end. Yet none of us remembered this being a dead end—we had clearly excavated our way through here earlier. How had it transformed into a dead end now?