Let MapleStory experience the Fourth Calamity

Chapter 84: A mine shaft discovered!

"Gentlemen, we've taken the territory! But I, a biochemist, simply can't understand these blueprints!"

The calls of geese echoed in the empty basement.

Lynn did not answer. He took out a brass pocket watch from the inside pocket of his coat, pressed his thumb against the edge of the crown, and the watch cover popped open with a "click".

Lynn glanced at the hands on the dial and put the pocket watch back into his pocket.

"Judging by the time, they should have arrived by now."

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of heavy, dragging footsteps came from the rusty ladder leading to the sewage pipe.

With heavy breathing, a figure carrying a huge engineering canvas bag struggled down the ladder. As soon as his feet touched the stone floor of the basement, he leaned against the damp brick wall and dry-heaved several times.

The young foreigner, Elliott, was covered in sweat. His white T-shirt, which he had been wearing, was now completely stained a muddy brown, and the hem was even torn in several places. He threw his heavy backpack, which was almost half his height, into the puddle, splashing up a cloud of murky water.

Accompanying him were several newbies who wanted to change jobs in the ruined city.

"Shit! The transportation in this crappy place is torture!" Elliott complained loudly, shaking the mud off his boots. "We've been following those natives' beat-up wooden carts for a whole day and night on those bumpy dirt roads! The axle broke three times halfway through, and we had to push! Our legs are about to break! Boss, can't we just spend money on some kind of transport like a teleportation scroll?"

Lynn ignored his complaints, turned to the side, and pointed to the safe in the corner and the several huge machines covered with blackened dust cloths.

The foreigner, who was complaining about leg pain just a moment ago, looked in the direction the finger was pointing.

Elliott's complaints ceased abruptly when his gaze fell upon the stack of parchment covered with drawings of bearings and transmission structures. He strode forward and ripped off the dust cover from the machine.

Dust flew everywhere. He squinted, tilted his head, and brushed the dust off with his hand.

An old machine tool, its surface covered in grease, stood in the firelight. Elliott pounced on it, his hands carelessly smearing a thick layer of black grease. He grabbed a wrench from the side, tapping it against the cast iron base, listening to the dull echo of the metal, and began rattling off a string of technical jargon.

"AMAZING! Differential gearbox! Multi-stage belt drive structure! These indigenous people actually managed to assemble this level of machining machine in the sewers?" He grabbed the blueprints on the table, his fatigue vanishing instantly.

The goose dusted off its hands, walked up to Lynn, and extended its right hand.

"Leave the professional matters to the professionals. I'm just sitting here doing nothing. Boss, approve the procurement funds. I need to rush back to Magic Forest to continue brewing the medicine. Jim's follow-up treatment in Backstreet is still waiting for the supplies."

Lynn untied a money pouch from his waist and tossed it into the goose's arms. The goose weighed it, then turned and retraced its steps along the sewage pipe.

On the other side, Night Cat deftly sheathed the dagger he had been playing with back into the leather sheath on his leg wrappings. Without leaving any explanation, he vanished silently into the shadows of the passageway like a drop of ink merging into the night, preparing to take over the other black market operations Jim had left behind in the abandoned city.

The little snail, carrying a long spear, beckoned to the three newbie players who had come with the foreigner. The three, holding short wooden sticks and rusty iron swords, followed closely behind the little snail.

"Not at the required level yet, huh? Come on, let's get to work. I'll show you what a natural assembly line shooting range looks like." The little snail used the tip of its gun to pry open the rusty iron fence in front of them, and the group walked deeper into the sewers.

The sewage flowed slowly underfoot, reaching above the ankles.

The deeper they went, the stronger the stench in the air became. From the cracks in the brickwork overhead, the sharp cries of mutated bats could be heard intermittently.

The little snail walked at the front of the group. A green succulent just poked its gelatinous body out from around the corner of the sewage outlet, and thrust out its spear like a viper's tongue.

Powerful attack, one-hit kill!

With a muffled thud, the sharp tip of the iron spear pierced straight through the slime's core.

"Gather materials, hurry up." The little snail pulled out its spear, shook off the slime on the tip, and continued to move forward.

Several newbies quickly stepped forward and used peeling knives to cut off some of the slime.

The team advanced along the intricate network of pipes for nearly half an hour, and the speed of the water flow underfoot began to pick up noticeably. Ahead, a huge sewage breakwater appeared, and the man-made brick and stone passage came to an abrupt end.

The little snail walked to the edge of the breakwater and stopped.

There was no moat ahead, nor the sea as expected.

What lay before them was a vast, suffocating natural underground cavern.

Hanging precariously from the cave ceiling are massive stalactites, dozens of meters long. Large swathes of unidentified fungi, emitting a ghostly green glow, cling to the steep rock walls, providing a faint and eerie illumination. From the bottom of the abyss, the faint, chilling sounds of dense insect chirping and deep, animal roars echo.

Vast, oppressive, and unfathomable.

A newbie holding a wooden stick swallowed hard, his legs went weak, and he involuntarily took two steps back.

"Hey Snail, this place's a bit creepy. It's too deep; if you fall in, you'll be gone without a trace. Should we go back up and farm some bats?"

Ignoring the retreating snail behind him, he pulled a pine resin torch from his waist and rubbed it against the wall next to him to ignite it.

A flame lit up.

The little snail held the torch high above its head.

The leaping orange flames did not burn upwards, but were instead pressed down by a strong airflow, tilting straight down into the depths of the cave.

"Retreat for what?" The little snail turned around, held the torch up to the newbie, and slammed the ground heavily with the butt of the torch. "Open your eyes wide and look at where this flame is going!"

The newbies looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Such strong air convection means this isn't a dead end at all!" The little snail's voice echoed across the empty breakwater. "It definitely connects to other areas in the heart of Treasure Island! There are tax checkpoints belonging to the Forest City gang on the surface, and hordes of high-level patrolling monsters everywhere. If we can explore this natural tunnel, it'll be a major underground smuggling artery, avoiding the sight of all NPCs!"

"Wow! We're rich!"

Will the GM give us credits?

"Of course! It's wrapped!"

Ignoring the newbies' exclamations, the little snail walked to the edge of the rock wall with his torch, carefully examining the rock sections that shimmered with a metallic luster in the firelight.