Chapter 148: The Pharaoh's Tomb Chamber

I had never heard of archaeology conducted in such a manner. This was truly playing with one’s life, an expedition resembling Super Mario, where every single level teemed with deadly perils. Yet, despite the danger, one had to press forward and keep taking risks because there was no way back.

"Screeech—!"

With no one quite sure who had touched what, the Pharaoh's golden sarcophagus sprang open by itself. Since the entire party was standing three or four meters away, nobody had the slightest clue what lay inside!

"Modu, go and see what is in the golden sarcophagus," Ismael said, pointing at one of the guides beside him. Upon hearing old Ismael order him to go, guide Modu was extremely reluctant at first. But ultimately, he had no choice; one cannot fight fate. Slowly and gingerly, he poked his head into the golden sarcophagus.

"Ah—! Ah—!"
"I'm fine! I'm not dead!"

The moment Modu thrust his head in—keeping his eyes tightly shut the entire time—his lack of mental preparation caused him to let out a blood-curdling shriek that lasted for quite a while. He only stopped his pig-slaughter-like wailing when he realized he was still breathing, at which point he slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey, everyone, come look! It's empty down here, and it leads underground!" Modu gestured wildly, dancing with excitement as he motioned to Ismael.

Sure enough, it was empty. That meant there had to be a hidden realm beneath, but this was getting ridiculous. Ever since entering this place, I had already crawled through several holes. Did the master of this underground palace have a compulsive obsession with digging tunnels?

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

A gust of eerie wind accompanied by a hollow sound blew out from the coffin, making everyone’s spine tingle. A dozen pairs of eyes stared unblinkingly into the pitch-black interior of the golden sarcophagus.

"That's impossible. How can there be wind here? A place with airflow should be relatively close to an exit, but it shouldn't be underground!"

Liu Fuquan, the geologist, stepped forward once again to address the group. With an expression of sheer disbelief, he swept the interior of the golden sarcophagus with a flashlight beam, inhaling deeply through his nose to sample the dank breeze rising from the depths of the tomb.

"We can go down. There's a burial chamber below because I can smell the scent of decaying wood!" With that, Liu Fuquan took the lead, securing a nylon rope and climbing down.

This was the first time I had ever witnessed a civilized man as courageous as Liu Fuquan. Seeing him descend, I gave him a thumbs-up. If it had been anyone else, there would have been endless hesitation and foot-dragging; I truly admired such a stouthearted man.

Liu Fuquan went first, I was second, and Uncle Ma was third. The party descended one after another, and it took about half an hour of climbing before everyone touched solid ground.

Holy crap, good grief, this was simply magnificent! Gold, silver, and bronze artifacts were scattered everywhere, dazzling my eyes.

Judging by the layout, this should have been the Pharaoh’s grand hall, save for the fact that instead of a living Pharaoh upon the throne, there rested a golden sarcophagus that had held the monarch's remains for millennia.

"Oh, mother of mine, we are going to be rich!"

I had no idea who uttered those words, but at the time, I found it hilarious. The way he spoke reminded me of a character named Badou from a television series I had watched, and even their appearances were strikingly similar.

"Ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha! We could grab any random item here and never spend all the money in our lifetimes!"

Before the middle-aged men finished speaking, they shoved aside those in their way and plunged headfirst into the piles of gold, silver, and bronze treasures, clutching the antiques and kissing them frantically.

"Rumble!"

"What is happening?!"

The earth quaked for a few moments, throwing everyone into a panic. Meanwhile, the middle-aged men who had been rolling among the treasures turned ashen-faced, foaming at the mouth with their eyes rolling back. They had likely been poisoned and died instantly.

Fortunately, the ceiling did not collapse as it often did in the movies. If it had truly caved in, we would have had no idea what to do other than being buried more than a hundred meters underground, leaving us with no other options whatsoever.

"Remember, none of you are to touch anything here, or you won't even know how you died!"

The bald leader drew the pistol from his waist and lectured the surviving expedition members, which of course included myself and Uncle Ma. After all, Uncle Ma and I were also part of the team—except that they all carried guns, while Uncle Ma and I were empty-handed.

Perhaps because Uncle Ma and I were not part of the core expedition headquarters, we lacked their special privileges. Yet the fact that they were armed made me somewhat wary of them.

Ismael took the lead, walking toward the golden sarcophagus with a few remaining Egyptian guides closely trailing behind him, every step taken with extreme caution.

The golden sarcophagus was sealed tight; it was impossible to open it with sheer brute force alone, and there were no keys to be found. For a moment, everyone was stumped.

I raised my wrist to check the time on my gold-plated knockoff Rolex and realized our group had been down here for over twenty hours.

"Look over there! There's a reflective mirror!"

"There's one here, too!"
......

In all four directions, there stood a person-height bronze reflecting mirror. When the flashlight beams struck the copper mirrors, four shafts of reflected light illuminated the entire burial chamber brilliantly, laying bare all the gold, silver, and bronze treasures while casting an eerie, spectral glow.

"Clack, clack, clack, clack!"

"What is that sound?!"

A series of inexplicable noises erupted from an unknown source, tightening the expedition members' nerves to a snapping point as they gripped their submachine guns even harder.

"Come look! There's an unusual mural over here!"

An expedition member at the very rear of the procession pointed at a mural on the wall, shouting to Uncle Ma and me. Perhaps because Uncle Ma and I were both bringing up the rear, I assumed he was calling out to us.

Uncle Ma’s immediate reaction was to rush over and inspect the mural. But my first reaction upon seeing it was that it looked identical to the mural in Ismael’s antique shop!

In other words, this painting depicted the Pharaoh's curse. Yet, in my view, the Pharaoh's curse had already arrived long ago, having claimed the lives of nearly ten members of our team.

I remembered Ismael telling me that the hieroglyphs translated to: "Whoever disturbs the Pharaoh's rest, the wings of Death shall descend upon his head," and "Whosoever enters this tomb with an impure heart, I shall wring his neck like a bird."