Sitting in the monkey bag, Nie Jiuluo descended steadily, keeping herself curled up and still. Only when she estimated she’d gone quite deep did she carefully raise her head and turn on her flashlight.

She hadn’t reached the bottom yet.

The light swept across the shaft walls: they were uneven, perfect for rock climbing. If she hadn’t been injured, with proper protection, she might have been able to climb down bare-handed.

Just as she was thinking this, something seemed to move in her peripheral vision.

Nie Jiuluo was startled, quickly turning her flashlight toward it.

Just a protrusion on the wall, nothing unusual.

However, this incident made her vigilant. She kept checking the walls with her flashlight—earth owls were skilled at climbing vertical surfaces. She had once teased Yan Tuo, saying, “Maybe there’s someone crawling on your ceiling right now.”

She hoped Yu Rong’s ill-omened words wouldn’t prove true, that this was an owl’s nest.

After descending further, the bottom became faintly visible. Nie Jiuluo’s flashlight beam darted from spot to spot.

Nothing—nobody, just some old mining equipment common to such places, nothing else.

Nie Jiuluo couldn’t tell if her heart felt lighter or heavier: Had they gotten it wrong? Was this just an abandoned mine?

Just then, she sensed movement again on the diagonal wall in front of her.

Her scalp tingled as she swung the flashlight back—people don’t get these feelings for no reason. This was the second time; there had to be something on that wall.

This time, she didn’t sweep the light around. Instead, she kept it focused on the suspicious spot. As she watched, a chill crept up from her heart.

It was another wall protrusion, almost the same color as the surrounding rock, but looking carefully, the texture was different. When the flashlight hit it, there was a slight gleam.

It looked like an iron-black spine.

Perhaps sensing the persistent light, the thing stopped hiding. Like a turtle stretching, its head emerged, followed by limbs from its sides.

Nie Jiuluo’s first instinct was to give three tugs on the rope, signaling Yu Rong to pull her up.

But she thought better of it—with this old-style pulley and manual operation, the descent was already slow; ascent would be even slower. No matter how hard Yu Rong pulled from above, she couldn’t outpace this creature. Besides, she was already near the bottom. On the ground, she could at least fight back. Hanging from the rope, she’d be nothing but suspended meat, taken down in seconds.

Nie Jiuluo held her breath, her heart racing faster than an engine. Very carefully, she transferred the flashlight to her left hand and drew her dagger with her right.

She clung to a desperate hope: maybe if she stayed quiet and calm, the thing wouldn’t attack.

But it was not to be. The creature turned its head toward her—its head like a large olive pit, with long, narrow eyes that leaked a greenish glow.

Then, like a massive lizard, it clung to the wall and used all four limbs to climb toward the rope where she hung.

Nie Jiuluo glanced down at the bottom—the rope was still descending, as per their agreement: without a signal from her, Yu Rong would keep lowering.

Currently, she was still three or four meters from the ground.

Every meter gained was precious—it was still too high; a fall would kill her.

The creature drew closer, ever closer until they were just one lunge apart.

With less than three meters to go, seeing the creature arch its back and bare its teeth, Nie Jiuluo struck first. She bared her teeth with a fierce expression, letting out a low growl from her throat, as if ready to devour it whole.

She’d seen plenty of cats and dogs showing aggression. While it might not deter tigers or wolves, it could at least startle an opponent.

Sure enough, the creature wasn’t expecting this move. In its moment of confusion, it didn’t attack immediately.

Thanks to this bluff, she gained another meter or so.

But the challenge was now formally issued—the battle was joined. The creature, from its higher position, kicked off with its hind legs and lunged straight for her.

Without hesitation, Nie Jiuluo swung her knife, cutting the suspension rope just as the creature reached it, and dropped to the ground.

She sprinted forward, trying to reach the tunnel ahead, but after a few steps, she heard a strange sound above. As she stopped abruptly, the creature’s massive, awkward body sailed over her, landing two or three meters ahead, blocking her path.

Nie Jiuluo instinctively stepped back, gripping her knife handle, highly alert, breathing low and fast.

Not knowing how many of these creatures might be down here, she dared not make loud noises that might attract more.

This one was huge—standing upright, it must have been over 1.9 meters tall, weighing well over 200 jin. Direct confrontation was impossible; she’d have to rely on evasion…

Before she could finalize her strategy, the creature lunged again.

The force was tremendous—even in the stagnant air at the bottom of the shaft, it created a whoosh. Nie Jiuluo dared not meet it head-on, quickly sidestepping. They almost brushed against each other as they passed; she caught a whiff of its rank odor, her skin stinging from the near contact.

Barely regaining her stance, the second lunge came.

Being caught would mean death. Gritting her teeth, Nie Jiuluo desperately sprinted toward the nearest wall. Approaching it, she kicked off, using the momentum to vault and spin through the air. That kick was heaven-sent—in the instant she became airborne, the creature’s claws had already dug into the wall, sending chunks of earth raining down. A second later, and it would have been her flesh torn apart.

Airborne, she had aimed to plunge her knife into the back of its head, but such moves relied on luck. The target was a living being, not a practice dummy. Finding its lunge had missed, it suddenly reared up, using its momentum to climb the wall. This caused Nie Jiuluo’s knife to strike its meaty shoulder instead.

Though not fatal, it was a vicious wound. The creature howled in pain, its body jerking violently, sending Nie Jiuluo flying, knife and all.

A thought flashed through her mind: don’t let it be the left arm.

Better the right than to injure the left again.

She twisted with the thought, trying to land on her right side. The protective gear must have helped—the impact was mostly absorbed by her back and right arm, sparing the left. Even so, the fall left her seeing stars, feeling as if her internal organs had been rearranged.

Just as she tried to get up, darkness suddenly loomed—the creature diving down like a falling mountain.

Nie Jiuluo’s heart went cold, but years of special training had honed her stress response. When adrenaline surged, her reactions became extraordinarily quick—keeping her eyes fixed on those two narrow, fluorescent green lines on the creature’s face, she used her left hand to crank the flashlight to maximum brightness and aimed it directly at the creature.

She was certain that something that had lived in darkness for so long would hate light, especially intense light.

Sure enough, the sudden bright light irritated its eyes, making it recoil momentarily. This flinch exposed its face clearly, and Nie Jiuluo, drawing on strength from who knows where, quickly rolled up and swept her knife in an arc from its right eye, across its nose, and down.

These underground creatures tracked prey using their eyes, sense of smell, and hearing—she didn’t know which was most important, but why not damage as many as possible?

The slash was so fierce it nearly split the creature’s face in two. The pain must have been excruciating. While it writhed and howled, clutching its face, Nie Jiuluo quickly pushed herself up and dashed into the nearest mine tunnel.