After stepping inside, Ulus closed the door and looked around.
What he saw was indeed a very secluded storage warehouse, approximately over a hundred square meters, with dark gray boxes piled up in the middle.
Stepping forward, Ulus touched one, discovering that the box was made of metal. But it seemed not to be iron, more like lead, with considerable thickness.
Such a fancy box, what’s inside it?
Ulus’s gaze fell on the metal lock sealing the box. Without hesitation, he reached out and decisively twisted it off, opening it up.
Then he saw that inside was filled with gray-brown powder, somewhat resembling stone dust from some kind of rock, faintly emanating a discomforting erosive energy.
The energy was very weak; if he weren’t in close proximity and hadn’t fully opened his perception, he wouldn’t have felt it.
Ulus wondered, frowning slightly, extending his hand to twist off the lock of a nearby metal box, opening it. This box was packed with light yellow powder, in a different color from the first box, yet it too faintly emitted an erosive energy.
Ulus became even more puzzled, doubting that what was hidden here was merely a heap of stone powder; there must be more to it.
Ulus continuously twisted off locks, opening an entire row of over ten boxes, observing the different colored powders, each emitting weak energy, frowning deeply.
Everything before him clearly showed that what was stored in this secretive warehouse was indeed only stone powder, nothing else.
Could it be that the biggest secret of this mine, the most hidden detail it wanted to keep from others, was these mineral powders?
But what are these mineral powders used for? Why are they so highly valued?
A thought flashed in his mind: perhaps if he understood the exact use of the mineral powders, he could uncover the whole truth—this was Wisdom from the will of Angel.
So what should be done next?
Ulus pondered. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the N0velFire.ɴet
Going out to catch a few miners to interrogate might be one way, but doing so might not yield effective information. He suspected that even the mine owner, Miner Waltz, might not know the real situation here.
The only one who might know all the information was probably that young man in black he met earlier.
But now, he had no clue about the other party’s identity, and wasn’t confident he could defeat him, especially since his previous exploration of the mine ended in failure—due to memory loss, he didn’t know exactly how he failed, but he intuitively felt it had something to do with the other.
Thinking of this, Ulus pursed his lips, furrowing his brow in deep thought, trying to come up with the best solution to the problem.
As he was thinking, he suddenly heard a voice from behind, speaking with some alertness and anger, "Hey, what are you doing here? How come you’re here?!"
Ulus’s thoughts were interrupted, and he turned his head to look. Somehow, the warehouse door he had closed was now open, and a burly man in a yellow jacket was walking in, staring straight at him.
The man in the yellow jacket was holding a wooden stick in his hand, more than half a meter long and more than three centimeters thick, one end wrapped in iron, quite formidable.
The man was gripping the stick tightly, shouting at him, "Hey, you, do you know what place this is? Also, which group are you from, and who is your group leader? Tell me right away, then come with me. I think it’s necessary to investigate you."
"Investigate me?" Ulus heard the words and suddenly laughed, looking at the other with an open mouth, revealing a set of fierce white teeth, "I’m investigating you people right now, and you want to investigate me in return? Ridiculous, who do you think you are, what qualifications do you have to investigate me?"
As Ulus spoke, he stepped closer to the man in the yellow jacket.
The man in yellow, seeing Ulus approaching, widened his eyes little by little. His body slightly crouched, lowering his center of gravity, his alertness increasing dramatically. The iron-wrapped wooden stick he was holding was raised high, poised to strike at any moment.
Ulus, however, paid no mind, continuing to approach.
The man’s vigilance reached its peak as Ulus reached a meter in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he swung the wooden stick fiercely at Ulus’s head, disregarding everything else.
A dull thud sounded, and Ulus took the heavy blow solidly.
Originally, his head injury had not fully healed, and taking such a blow inevitably caused the wound to bleed. Blood streamed down his forehead, brows, and eyes, continually dripping down into his neck.
Ulus wiped the blood with his hand, not crying out in pain, merely casting a meaningful glance at the man who struck him, speaking, "Not bad, you actually had the courage to hit me."
"However, your courage stops here." Ulus said, grasping the iron-wrapped wooden stick still suspended on his head, taking it away effortlessly from the man in yellow, who had no time to react.
Then, in the astonished gaze of the man in yellow, Ulus bent the stick with his hands with a "crack," breaking the iron-wrapped wooden stick into two parts as if it were breaking a brittle radish.
"Do you know why your courage only goes so far?" Ulus continued to speak, his voice growing louder, "Because your life also ends here."
With that said, Ulus lunged forward, grabbing the man’s collar and lifting him off the ground, then swinging him hard towards the corner.
A thud sounded as the man crashed heavily onto the ground, his body landing defenselessly. With a "crack," more than a dozen bones broke.
The man spat blood from his mouth, his face turning extremely pale, clearly indicating severe internal injuries, with no hope of survival.
Ulus thought the same, briefly glancing at the dying man, then paid him no further attention. He returned his gaze to the mineral powders stacked in the secretive small warehouse, continuing to think of ways to uncover everything.
At this moment, the dying man in the corner, filled with a hint of fear and hatred, glanced at Ulus, and with great difficulty, took out a copper whistle from his top pocket, placing it at his mouth, and with the last strength of his life, blew it.
The sharp, short sounds echoed, instantly spreading through the small warehouse and then seeping through the door into the outside.
Ulus hadn’t anticipated such a turn of events, and the moment he heard the whistle blow, his body stiffened. Then, looking at the man who made the sound, he quickly stepped forward to try and finish him off.
But he had just moved two meters when the man stopped blowing the whistle, giving Ulus a glance of smug revenge, then his body limply fell to the ground motionless, ceasing to breathe—dead.
Ulus clenched his fist, air rushing rapidly from his nostrils.