After a few seconds of sitting in utter darkness, a flicker of panic stirred in my chest.

They must be in trouble too—otherwise, they’d have called out and come to pull me up by now.

My grasp of the situation was hazy. How would a high schooler like me know what lay beneath the broken bridge of an ancient lake-bottom ruin?

The longer I waited, the sharper my unease grew—until fear crested. I crept forward cautiously, straining to recall which way they might have fled. Not a whisper reached my ears. If they were nearby, I should’ve heard footsteps or ragged breaths. But now? Only tomb-like silence.

What did that mean?

Either they were dead… or very, very far away.

If those huge, crimson doll-eyes could truly kill, there should’ve been screams of agony.

Yet since I fell… not a single sound.

So they must have run.

Despair tightened my throat as I pinched the bridge of my nose—but I kept listening.

I’ve always been hypersensitive to sound. In even slight quiet, the tiniest noise reveals itself if I focus. One rustle, one shift—and I’d hear it.

After what felt like ages crawling through blackness, exhaustion hit. Tension drained me. I sank cross-legged onto the ground, back pressed to stone, eyes scanning the void.

Darkness fuels imagination—but rarely kindly.

Monsters lunging to devour me. Unseen things watching from the shadows.

A cold shiver raced down my spine.

The more anxious I grew, the wilder my thoughts spiraled. Maybe that’s just my inner masochist acting up.

Time slipped unnoticed. A press of my waterproof watch glowed for two seconds—nearly evening. I’d never felt minutes vanish so fast.

This can’t go on. Tears pricked my eyes. If I could rewind, I’d scram straight back to school for vocational classes.

Even fate’s cruelest joke shouldn’t dump an innocent city girl into a place like this.

But sobbing here won’t teleport me to my warm bed. The dull throb in my leg whispered: *This is real.*

A single reckless cry could end me.

I pushed up, found a rough wall to lean on, and fumbled through my backpack.

Cylindrical shapes. My gut said: cold flares.

I pulled one out. I’d seen Second Brother and the others strike them against stone—like childhood friction firecrackers.

I found the gritty tip, scraped it hard against the floor—

*Whoosh!*

Blinding light seared my vision.

Squinting, I hurled it upward. The flare’s glow revealed the space:

Cramped ceiling. The flare bounced off rock and clattered at my feet.

In that flash, I saw it—I stood trapped among meter-tall conical spikes, points aimed skyward.

All around, the same deadly forest. On a nearby spike: a torso impaled, half a body, dried and ancient.

I swallowed hard.

No exit.

This was a trap—like ancient battlefield pits from dramas. Fall in, get skewered.

I’d once visited a hidden military cave in Gansu with such a display, sealed under tempered glass for tourists to stand over safely.

Back then, I smugly imagined the fall.

Well. Wish granted.

The flare dimmed. I scanned desperately for escape—

...

—the exact moment darkness swallowed the last light, I saw it.

Not far behind my left shoulder: a tangled-haired figure, corpse-pale body stark against the black, prone and motionless, facing me.

My blood ran cold.

In the dying glow, its face was snow-white, features blurred—except for a grotesquely wide horizontal slit across the lower half.

Then… the slit twitched.

Yellow, jagged fangs glinted within.

*Holy crap—it’s a mouth!*

My mind blanked.

Then—darkness.

True, suffocating black. This time, terror clawed my throat. Tears burned.

I stumbled back, hands shaking as I rummaged blindly in my bag.

A lion? A wolf? I might’ve held my nerve.

But *this*? Rule out human. No person wears a mouth like that.

Monster. Definitely a monster from this cursed place.

It even flashed a toothy grin—*it knew I was here.*

Trembling, I drew the short knife Mom gave me. The solid grip sent a surge of resolve through me.

Fanged creatures eat meat. I was meat.

Waiting meant death.

Time to fight. Let’s see who wins: the ancient beast lurking in this underwater tomb… or me—a highly intelligent human at the top of the food chain.

I snatched another cold flare. A rustle echoed—*it was moving.*

Like the Little Match Girl clinging to hope, I struck the flare. Light bloomed.

Clutched tight in my other hand.

The thing had closed the distance.

Kill intent ignited.

I gripped my dagger, roared, and charged.

It didn’t flinch. Jaws gaped wide. Limbs coiled to pounce.

Today—only one of us walks away!

...