Zhang San bent over and thrust the torch down into the coffin.
Wei stood beside him, squinting against the wavering firelight.
The flame lit the bottom of the coffin.
Wei paused.
It was empty.
The interior was unnaturally clean—not even a single burial coin lay inside.
Zhang San spat a curse.
"Damn it! It's cleaner than my own pockets!"
The words had barely left his mouth—
When a gust of cold air suddenly surged up from the coffin.
The torch lurched sideways.
Flames crackled violently, scattering sparks.
Wei frowned.
How could there be wind inside a coffin?
Zhang San hesitated for a moment, brow furrowing. Then he leaned farther forward, almost draping his entire body over the rim, as if preparing to climb in and look more closely.
His bulky frame shoved Wei and Minnow aside. Wei was about to speak—
When Zhang San's body suddenly went rigid.
The torch was still in his hand.
But his shoulders began to shake violently.
At first it was only a faint tremor.
The next instant—
His entire body convulsed.
His thick back rose and fell in jerks, as if something beneath him were tugging at him.
Wei hadn't yet grasped what was happening.
Li Si had already stepped closer, grinning.
"Big brother, that muscle-shaking trick of yours...I could never learn it."
Minnow suddenly shrieked.
"Is the coffin swallowing him?!"
Wei's heart sank.
Only then did he notice—
Zhang San's upper body was slowly sinking into the coffin.
Not climbing in.
Something below was dragging him down.
Li Si panicked and lunged forward, grabbing Zhang San's legs.
"Hold him!"
Minnow seized the other leg.
Wei grabbed the hem of Zhang San's clothes and pulled backward with all his strength.
But his arms trembled.
His strength hadn't recovered yet.
He could barely exert any force.
Zhang San's movements slowed.
No—not slowed.
It was as if something underneath was supporting him while steadily pulling him inward.
Both his legs were still outside, gripped tightly by Li Si and Minnow. His pant legs stretched taut, the fabric creaking with faint tearing sounds.
"Pull! Pull harder!" Minnow's veins bulged across his forehead.
Wei clenched his teeth, knuckles whitening. He could almost hear his bones grinding.
Yet Zhang San's upper body kept sinking.
Like someone sinking into mud.
Like unseen hands at the bottom of the coffin were wrapping around his waist.
The torch slipped from his grasp.
It hit the floor with a sharp crack, rolling halfway across the stone as the firelight flickered wildly.
And then—
Zhang San suddenly stopped moving.
Wei froze.
Zhang San hung there, suspended.
His head had already disappeared into the darkness inside the coffin.
Only his belly remained caught on the rim.
The stone chamber fell into a suffocating silence.
Li Si panted heavily.
"…Did we stop him?"
Wei didn't answer.
Because at that very moment—
A faint sound came from inside the coffin.
Click.
Like a tongue touching teeth.
In the next instant—
Zhang San dropped.
Wei felt the sudden emptiness in his hands.
Zhang San's fingernails clawed frantically at the stone edge, scraping out a piercing screech.
But his body had already vanished headfirst into the darkness.
Li Si was still holding Zhang San's legs.
A violent tug yanked forward.
Li Si's entire body lurched ahead.
His chest slammed hard against the rim of the coffin.
"Wait—!"
He only managed half the word.
His body was already being dragged in.
His heels scraped wildly against the stone floor, producing a shrill grinding sound.
The next moment—
He was gone too.
Only a patch of devouring darkness remained inside the coffin.
Minnow's face turned instantly pale.
"Let go!" Wei barked.
But it was already too late.
The same force surged upward from where Li Si had vanished.
Minnow was yanked forward toward the coffin.
He grabbed the rim desperately, his knuckles turning white.
Wei seized the back of his collar and hauled backward with all his strength.
Two opposing forces pulled at once.
The cloth shrieked as it tore.
The torch struck the ground again.
Rolled halfway.
The firelight flickered.
And in that wavering glow—
Minnow's body was sucked into the coffin, inch by inch.
Wei stumbled forward as well, dragged toward the opening.
Then—
The fire went out.
The chamber plunged instantly into darkness.
No sound followed.
The stone coffin was clearly narrow and cramped.
Yet the woodcutter, who had already crept to the chamber doorway, watched with wide eyes as the small coffin swallowed four grown men.
Like a stone sinking into a deep pond—
Not even a splash.
The firelight vanished into the darkness.
A strange smile spread slowly across the old woodcutter's face.
His expression relaxed.
He walked back toward the coffin with light, casual steps.
"Bunch of stupid mules," he muttered. "Even pissed themselves. Damn embarrassing."
Still muttering, he lifted the fallen lid and set it back onto the coffin. With a quick flick at a hidden catch, the lid sealed perfectly into place.
He clapped his hands together.
"This time the Commander's got to reward me with a little official post."
But before he could finish the sentence—
He froze.
Because beneath his chin, a sharp dagger was already pressed against his throat.
This time, the old woodcutter really did wet himself.
He couldn't tell whether the shadow beside him was a ghost—
Or a living man.
This cave had always been surrounded by strange rumors. Ever since it had been used to bury stillborn children, eerie things had never stopped happening. Villagers said that late at night, shadows moved inside the cave.
Just then—
A firestone struck with a sharp crack.
The extinguished torch flared back to life.
The firelight flickered.
And revealed a face.
Minnow.
The handsome boy's face was pale, sweat beading across his forehead. But the dagger in his hand was steady against the old woodcutter's throat, his fingers tight around the hilt.
"Speak."
His voice was low.
"Who exactly are you?"
The old man trembled violently, barely able to speak.
"D-don't misunderstand… I just hate those bandits! Besides, I trapped them for you, didn't I? That saved your life too!"
Minnow stared at him coldly, clearly unconvinced.
Seeing this, the old man hurriedly burst into pitiful sobs.
"I'm just a useless old man from a small mountain village. Those horse bandits harass us every few days—we have to pay protection money every month…"
His voice grew hoarse as he spoke.
"They even took my son. Now he's one of them. I'm all alone at home… I just wanted to steal some food and stay alive…"
The old man sniffled miserably, tears and snot streaming down his face as his story grew more tragic by the moment.
While wiping his nose, he reached out to grab Minnow's hand.
Minnow watched, horrified, as a shining smear of snot on the back of the old man's hand moved steadily closer to his own.
For a split second, his expression looked as if he were facing something more terrifying than a blade.
He staggered back several steps.
He nearly dropped the dagger.
And just then—
The dagger was suddenly snatched from his hand.