The figures swayed and flickered, sometimes appearing and sometimes disappearing behind the curtain of rain. It was clear they meant no good, seemingly observing us closely, waiting for the right moment to strike. The sight of these ghostly shadows lurking behind the rain curtain sent chills down my spine.

What’s going on? Why are there suddenly so many people here?

The first thought that crossed my mind was what I had speculated earlier: someone in the village was secretly obstructing us, and now they had finally taken action. These people might be here to ambush us.

This is a mess. Damn it, on one side there’s the crazy horse, and on the other, a whole squad ready to ambush us. We’re definitely screwed this time.

I glanced around roughly and counted about seven people. Damn it, I had no idea what they were planning, but it seemed like they had set up an ambush here.

I wiped my face to clear the rainwater, but it was pouring too heavily, and soon my eyes were filled with rain again. Those figures remained indistinct, and I couldn’t tell what weapons they were carrying.

I also couldn’t see the expression on Pan Ma’s face as I kept my distance from him. He hesitated for a moment and suddenly charged toward one of the shadows.

At first, I was startled, but then I understood his intention: he thought those figures were the people we were looking for.

In such an environment, no one could calmly set an ambush or launch an attack, so rather than waiting for the opponent to figure things out, it was better to charge in. In this chaotic situation, if things got messy, they might mistake me for one of their own, giving him a chance.

I didn’t know whether this was good or bad for me, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I immediately followed Pan Ma as he ran toward them. They surrounded me, and as Pan Ma clashed with them, there would surely be an opening for me to escape.

I couldn’t go back to the awning either. If those people had been here all along, I had no idea what had happened to A Gui and the others. After all, even if Men You Ping and Fatty were skilled, one shot each could take them down, not to mention A Gui and the others would be a burden.

Running on the slippery and uneven stone beach felt like juggling. After a few meters, my knees were all scraped up. I followed Pan Ma closely as he charged toward one of the shadows. As the distance changed, the surrounding shadows became indistinguishable, and I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Pan Ma rushed straight at that shadow, his knife slicing through the rain curtain, showing no sign that it was an eighty-year-old man.

Strangely, that shadow remained motionless, seemingly unfazed by Pan Ma’s fierce charge. In less than ten seconds, we reached the shadow, and just as Pan Ma turned his knife to strike, he suddenly stopped, letting out a horrific scream as his knife fell to the ground. He began to retreat wildly, only to trip over a stone and fall.

I circled around to take a look and discovered the true identity of the shadow: it was a standing skeleton. To my horror, the skeleton was dressed in a military uniform that had rotted into black threads and was wearing a rusted bandolier, carrying a rusty submachine gun on its back.

My scalp tingled, and I instinctively took a step back, thinking, “What the hell is this? Are the dead really crawling out of the water?”

However, my mental fortitude was much stronger than Pan Ma’s. Just then, a downpour hit, and I saw the skull of the skeleton swaying in the wind, like a lantern, as if it were hanging above.

As I focused my gaze, I realized that the skeleton was propped up by branches, with a framework of branches behind it. My God, how could there be dead people here? Did they find the bodies at the bottom of the lake? I took a deep breath and examined the bones closely; sure enough, the water-damaged clothes and gear indicated that this was definitely a soldier. It seemed my suspicions were correct.

However, looking at the way the skeleton stood there, I felt an eerie sense of unease. I cursed under my breath, wondering what this was supposed to be—some kind of scare tactic? Old Man Panma was already scared enough; when I turned to look back, I could no longer see him anywhere. I thought to myself, could this be a prank by the Fatty?

I immediately rushed back to the mule, but Old Man Panma was still nowhere to be found. I had a splitting headache as I walked towards the other shadows, only to discover they were the same type of dead bodies. I found a total of seven skeletons, but I couldn’t be sure if there were more elsewhere. That madman had vanished, seemingly hiding away.

With such heavy rain, I couldn’t go looking for Panma, so I decided to meet up with A Gui first to inform them that there were other people here. The mule seemed frightened by the dead bodies and wouldn’t budge no matter how much I tried to drive it away. I tied it to a rock and then made my way around the corpses straight to the previous rain shelter. The shelter had clearly been reinforced and stood firm against the heavy rain. I dashed inside, only to find it eerily quiet, and upon looking around, I realized they were not inside.

I cursed again, thinking, with this heavy rain, were they still in the water? Or had something gone wrong? Inside the shelter, there was a large pile of items, all salvaged from underwater. In the two weeks I had been away, Fatty and the Silent Oil Bottle had made significant progress.

All the metal items were rusted to pieces. I saw water bottles, rifles, pistols, binoculars, some daggers, and machetes—all part of the military equipment from that time, which made it easy to imagine the atmosphere of war that had once existed here. There were also many everyday items, even a box of biscuits, meticulously preserved; it seemed they had been retrieved from larger salvage operations.

Thinking I had nothing for self-defense, I picked up a Type 56 bayonet, which is quite famous. Back then, bayonets were not often used, especially since it was the late 1980s, when individual weaponry had powerful firepower. Bayonets were typically only used for special operations; in jungle warfare, the Vietnamese would not engage in bayonet fights with their opponents.

Due to the material it was made from, the bayonet hadn’t decayed too badly. I had heard that these types of bayonets were often poisoned, so I was particularly cautious, gripping it with the blade facing backward. I pondered what to do next; damn it, the main issue was the heavy rain—no one could hear calls or see clearly.

Thinking I was too much of a target in the shelter, I worried that Panma might charge in, so I dashed back into the rain and ran to the lakeshore to see if A Gui and the others were around. After circling back and forth a few times, I suddenly saw a figure dragging a wooden raft up the beach.

I rushed over and discovered it was A Gui, his thin frame pulling the raft towards the shore. When I appeared before him, he froze, his face pale with fright. “Why are you the only one here? Where are the others?” I asked.

Agu stood dazed in the lake, his expression somewhat vacant as he stared at me. I asked him a second time, but he still didn’t respond. I looked at the wooden rafts and thought Agu must have just come back from the lake. I thought to myself, damn, these people are really crazy, still trying to salvage things in such heavy rain. At that moment, I suddenly realized something was wrong. Why was Agu dragging the raft back? He should have been waiting for them on the lake; swimming in such heavy rain is extremely dangerous, especially since the water level has risen so much. Moreover, Agu’s expression was very strange.

I walked closer to Agu, wanting to clarify what was going on, but the closer I got, the more I sensed something was off. Agu’s expression was incredibly vacant, as if he had experienced something that had deeply traumatized him; he seemed to be in a state of dissociation. I slapped him hard and shouted, “What happened?” He suddenly snapped back to reality, tears streaming down his face as he cried, “They… they are all dead!”