Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 248. Seafloor

As Charles and Feuerbach descended further into the depths, the water pressure increased, and once again, they felt the familiar tightness of the leather suits.

Charles cautiously scanned their surroundings for several seconds before his anxiety slightly eased. The giant skeleton from before was nowhere to be seen; they seemed to have avoided it this time.

Time gradually ticked past. When they arrived at the seafloor once again, the scene that greeted them was different from before. Right beneath them, a creature with a towering height of dozens of meters stood upright in the midst of the underwater city.

It resembled a mass of black roots with three spider-like slender legs as it slowly moved through the water.

Charles didn't dare to let his guard down. Instead of retreating and ascending immediately, he led the sharks to hide behind an old car that had now been completely covered in coral.

Fortunately, whether due to Charles and his party successfully hiding themselves or it simply being uninterested, the creature moved away from where they were with slow, gradual steps.

Charles heaved a sigh of relief. Pushing off against a coral rock with his feet, he swam toward a nearby building. According to Tobba's description, the facility containing 319 was close by.

Soon enough, Charles located the inconspicuous little red-roofed house amidst the numerous structures.

It was so unremarkable that if not for Tobba being so certain that this was the place where relics were stored, Charles would probably have mistaken the building to be a public restroom in the midst of a bustling underwater metropolis.

Charles stopped before the building's door and reached out for the handle. He had only gently tugged at the door's handle but inadvertently pulled the entire thing off due to its many years of decay. Even the entire door collapsed as a result of his gentle tug.

The space behind the door was rather small with a narrow, sloping corridor leading downward to seemingly an entrance to something more.

After communicating silently with Feuerbach through hand gestures, Charles brandished his Dark Blade and cautiously advanced into the corridor.

The moment their figures disappeared from the entrance, a shadowy figure flitted around the corner.

The downward passageway was tight and narrow. Charles couldn't shake off the eerie feeling that the surrounding water was slowly solidifying around them.

A door lay at the end of the corridor. With its distinctive twin steel doors, it wasn't hard for Charles to discern that this unique construction was typical to that of an elevator.

The elevator seemed to be made of some unknown metal. Despite all these years underwater, it showed not a single speck of rust, and only a thin layer of black substance covered its surface.

Swoosh!

Charles thrust his Dark Blade into the gaps between the two doors and exerted force in a twisting motion in an attempt to cut an opening.

However, the door's resilience far exceeded his expectations; his efforts only managed to scratch a long line on its surface.

Just then, Feuerbach tapped Charles on the shoulders and flashed him his pearly white teeth.

His mouth parted into what seemed like a silent shout, and the sharks swarmed the door. Opening their maws filled with sharp, jagged teeth, they ferociously tore at the elevator doors.

The doors were extremely tough, but the sharks remained undeterred even as their teeth were pulled out of their mouths and scattered in the water. Unable to tear the doors down, the sharks changed their strategy and eventually managed to wrench the entire door off its hinges.

Nodding in acknowledgment to Feuerbach, Charles swam toward the now-exposed elevator shaft.

Shrouded in pitch-black darkness, the shaft was oppressively claustrophobic. Charles placed his hands on the walls on either side and cautiously felt his way downward.

If his guess were right, the relics would be stored right below. Of course, it was a given considering that the relics were hazardous items and the Foundation would never store them in easily accessible places.

In the stifling darkness of the elevator shaft, Charles' muscles were tensed up and his mental state was at high alert for any signs of danger.

Despite learning from Tobba that this facility, like Laboratory 3, contained mostly non-living relics, Charles remained wary. Relics were unpredictable and defied conventional scientific understanding, so who would be a hundred percent certain?

With extreme caution, they finally approached the first opening of the elevator shaft.

Peering within, they saw what appeared to be the ruins of a conference room's corridor. Unfortunately, the interiors had decayed beyond recognition.

With no plans to venture alone, Charles gestured to Feuerbach above him.

A trace of reluctance surfaced on Feuerbach's countenance but he eventually returned that he understood in flag semaphore.

He affectionately patted a shark on its sleek body and planted a gentle kiss on its snout before sending the red shark on its mission.

The red shark swayed its tail fin and darted deeper into the facility.

It moved swiftly and returned in a couple of minutes. It circled Feuerbach and gently brushed against him with its fins.

Understanding the message, Feuerbach turned to Charles and shook his head. The latter immediately understood that there was nothing of note inside.

They continued their descent down the shaft and explored floor after floor. After some time, Charles realized that there seemed to be a vast underground structure beneath the elevator shaft with basement after basement.

The structure housed various facilities and appeared capable of sustaining thousands of people. Yet now, it lay as a ghost town, void of any human presence.

Navigating through this sunken ghost town sent chills down one's spine.

Fortunately, there did not seem to be any immediate threat.

They explored one level after another, and finally, they reached Basement 8.

This time, Charles chose not to send a shark ahead for reconnaissance. Standing at the opening of the shaft, he spotted a door with the number 241 emblazoned on it. The adjacent wall even had a fingerprint recognition lock.

The sight of the familiar Arabic numbers in enlarged print had Charles' heart racing. He had found it; this was the place Tobba had mentioned where the static relics were stored.

However, Charles was in no rush to dive in.

The number 241 was a far cry from 7.

Pushing himself against the decaying mud-rock walls, Charles continued downward.

With each descending level he passed by, the numbers decreased. 165, 127, 65, 32. Finally, on the very last floor, he halted. He was greeted by a door boldly marked with the number 1.

Charles slowly swam deeper into the opening. Relic 319 behind Door 7 was certainly one of the doors in this silent, dark corridor.

Suddenly, he tensed up, and his slow and steady breathing hastened.

Right in front of him was a very plain-looking door with the number 3 on it—the very one Tubba had warned him about. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, but he felt an ominous vibe from it, as though it would swing open at any moment.

Didn't Tobba say that the things in here don't move? Charles thought to himself as he scanned the surrounding darkness warily, afraid that something would spring forth from behind one of the doors.

However, the pitch-black darkness remained undisturbed despite a lengthy wait.

From the side, Feuerbach continuously gestured with flag semaphore, inquiring anxiously about the situation and the reason for Charles' reaction.

Charles dismissed the unease in his heart and hurriedly readjusted his breathing; he couldn't afford to waste oxygen in this place.

With a forceful push from his webbed feet against the wall, he propelled himself swiftly deeper in search of Door 7.

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