Chapter 70: Seventeen Gates

The moment I moved my foot, someone inside sensed it—clearly, their guard was up.
“Who’s there?”
There was no helping it; Black Shades and I had no choice but to enter the side chamber with our submachine guns at the ready. The people inside were stunned, probably unable to comprehend how anyone else could possibly be here.
“Are you with Third Lady Gu?”
Third Lady Gu? Who was that? Before I could answer, Black Shades spoke up. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond directly to the man called Six, but instead asked calmly. The three men inside hesitated again. The one called Six seemed shrewd, but was clearly at a loss at this moment. He replied, “So, you’re with the West Gate. How come you’re here? Weren’t you supposed to have gone in already? And do you know where the flipping switch is? Lord Ghost and the others went in, but we got separated.”
I stayed silent, letting Black Shades do the talking. From their conversation, we gathered the general situation: when Lord Ghost and his crew had just reached the entrance, they found a coffin there. Old Han took a sniff and said it held a blood corpse, so everyone proceeded with extreme caution. But apparently, one of their men couldn’t hold his breath; in a moment of tension, he inhaled. Instantly, the coffin began to tremble.
Sensing something wrong, Old Han shouted a warning and tried to retreat with Lord Ghost. But Lord Ghost was ruthless—he fired at the coffin. Submachine guns, assault rifles, shotguns—gunfire rained down. They figured not even a god could withstand that onslaught. But just as they thought the blood corpse had been blasted to bits, something dreadful happened: that blood-red thing shot out of the coffin, and one man, standing closest, was torn in half on the spot. The scene was so horrific that even now, Six’s face turned pale recalling it.
Their story matched what Black Shades had described: that thing brought instant death to anyone it touched, and several were infected on contact. With their retreat cut off and bullets useless against the blood corpse, Lord Ghost led the survivors fleeing down the tomb passage, stumbling and scrambling until they reached this place. By chance, someone must have triggered a mechanism, and suddenly the wall turned, revealing a gaping black hole.
With nowhere else to go, Lord Ghost and Old Han guessed there had to be a hidden passage, so they led fifteen men inside. When Six’s group tried to follow, the flipping mechanism activated again, separating them. The three of them were left behind, left to puzzle over the situation.
After piecing together the story, Black Shades whispered in my ear, “The Third Lady Gu they mentioned is the current leader of the West Gate—one of the last surviving branches and on par with Lord Ghost.”
I already knew: of the seventeen original tomb-raiding guilds, only four remain—one in each cardinal direction, with a Central Gate making five in total. The old divisions, like East Four Gates or West Four Gates, no longer exist; now it’s simply East, West, North, South, and Center. So, the Third Lady Gu is the head of the West Gate, and judging by the name, likely a woman.
It made sense that they’d mistake us for her people. From what we’d heard, there were supposed to be two groups here, possibly working together. Black Shades and I dared not probe too much; too many questions would arouse suspicion. We weren’t afraid of a confrontation and could handle the three of them, but they might still prove useful, so for now, we let them be.
Five of us now, including Black Shades and me, began searching for a way out. Before long, someone must have found the switch, because the wall pivoted open again. Six, excited, was the first to slip through. I glanced at Black Shades, who nodded at me, and I hurried after him.
Black Shades came in last, and as soon as he did, the wall swung back into place—clearly, it was on a timer. Inside, it was pitch black. We switched on our flashlights and discovered we were in a low, narrow passageway. Oddly, there wasn’t a trace indicating anyone had passed through. Six commented that Lord Ghost’s group, all fifteen of them, should have left some sign. After all, the floor was paved with blue bricks covered in dust; our own footprints were clear enough. How could so many have come through without leaving a single mark?
We’d already told the three that we were on perimeter watch and hadn’t been inside before, so they didn’t suspect much—probably couldn’t imagine outsiders here. Still, none of us dared move forward rashly.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been through here,” Six muttered.
Black Shades knelt to brush the dust and, seeing no prints, replied, “No one’s walked this way. It’s strange—maybe there’s another passage under the flip panel?”
Before long we realized the passage was a dead end, the wall behind now sealed. In short, we were trapped in a corridor barely high enough to walk bent over, and so narrow it allowed only two people to squeeze through side by side.
The passage wasn’t long—about thirty meters. We searched for a way out, but it quickly became clear this was a sealed space. Our greatest challenge would be oxygen. This was an ancient tomb sealed for centuries, with precious little air to begin with, and now five people would consume it even faster.
When one of Lord Ghost’s men, agitated, tried to light a cigarette, Black Shades quickly snatched it away and stamped it out. The man started to protest, but Black Shades said coldly, “If you’re not afraid of suffocating, go ahead and smoke.”
Clearly, the man wasn’t a fool. He quickly realized what Black Shades meant, and his face turned pale. Six, the sharpest among them, immediately shouted, “No smoking! And breathe as little as possible. No wonder I’m feeling short of breath—what are we going to do?”
“Stay calm,” I said quietly. “The more anxious you are, the faster you’ll breathe. Let’s all keep quiet for now.”
At that, everyone fell silent.