The Informal Tomb Raiding Diary: She is the occupant of the tomb! Chapter 442 - 329: Bear Bile Eye Drops (Part 3)

"Oh, yes, I heard her call ." I admitted frankly.

"Following this sequence, the next person to be marked should be you." Mike said in a heavy tone.

"What should I do then?" I moved my arm awkwardly, pulling the muscles in my back along with it, not knowing if they can stop the ’black hand’ from the shadows. They’ve blocked bullets, so as long as they don’t fail this ti.

"Don’t leave our sight." Mike said.

"Alright." I walked to Qinghan, sat in front of him, and entrusted my back to him. If a black handprint appears, it must be his doing.

The two people who already had handprints gathered to discuss. This thing hasn’t shown any effect yet, and there are hardly any clues for analysis, so we could only guess randomly.

Once I sat down, my mind quieted, and I suddenly rembered sothing. Wuyong had a black hand strangling her neck—wasn’t there nobody in front of her?

If the black hand stretched out from her own body, we truly wouldn’t be able to see who was strangling her.

If I said this aloud, Wang Le and Doctor Du might have trouble sleeping, affecting their rest.

Moreover, this was just my speculation, without proof, so I held back, but occasionally glanced at Wang Le and Doctor Du’s necks, hoping we wouldn’t overlook them and let them strangle themselves.

Mike kept staring at , and I felt that besides his concern, he also wanted to confirm his speculation. He was so sure earlier that I would be the next target for the black hand, so now he was naturally watching closely to see if it would happen.

Qinghan said he felt a bit tired, then rested his head on my shoulder and fell asleep.

His weight wasn’t an issue for at all. I took out my phone and spare battery, planning to watch so TV dramas.

As soon as I turned on the phone, I felt sothing scratching my back. Behind was only Qinghan; he seed to be writing on my back...

Unaffected, I put on headphones and played a stored TV show on my phone, my eyes glued to the screen while my mind tried to discern what was being written on my back.

Each stroke he wrote transford into an image in my mind. Perhaps worried I’d decipher slowly, he’d repeat each sentence twice.

Soone... in the room... watching us.

Don’t... tell anyone else... don’t look... into the room.

My eyes remained fixed on the phone screen, thinking no wonder Qinghan claid the eye drops didn’t help; he had actually seen sothing but couldn’t say it.

If there were unseen presences in this room, then everything we said or did was under their surveillance. If spoken aloud, they’d know, and we’d have no idea what actions they’d take.

This small room wasn’t large, with no places to hide people, so the figures Qinghan referred to surely didn’t exist in conventional forms.

I suddenly recalled Mike ntioning seeing soone crouching within the wall when we were in the tunnel.

Within the wall...

Sothing might be affecting our vision, making it so we can’t see the person hidden within the wall. But maybe at specific monts, like from the corner of our eyes or unintentionally, we could catch a glimpse.

Yet when looking directly, nothing’s visible. I couldn’t communicate with Qinghan except him relaying information to unilaterally.

He said there were figures at the wall corners and ceiling. Thus, he rested on my shoulder, using his body to shield my back, preventing the ceiling’s watchers from seeing what he was writing.

With mories returning, my skills for controlling Karmic Fire also resurfaced. In terms of technique alone, not considering the limitations on usage, I could instantly reduce this small room to ashes.

But we don’t know whether these ’people’ hidden within the walls and ceiling fear fire?

"Ah—"

Suddenly, I received a scream in my mind, failing to hold back and instinctively turned around to find the sound’s source.

"Did you hear sothing again?" Mike, watching closely, asked imdiately when he saw my movent.

"Ah? It seems..."

Right then, Qinghan wrote on my back: "Soone slapped ."

Thinking it’s odd—if you were hit by the black hand, shouldn’t the scream be yours? Why did the black hand scream instead? What did you do?

But these doubts couldn’t be voiced as Mike ca over, sat beside and Qinghan, looking as if he intended to provide close protection.

"What did you hear?" Doctor Du asked with concern.

"N-nothing, just my na being called. I thought it was Qinghan calling."

"What’s going on?" Qinghan pretended to be woken, asked groggily.