Chapter 34: Surrounding the God
"Report, sir, we've reached the bottom of the specimen. Awaiting orders for the next step."
Nathan reported. The entire lair had been dug out, flattened and shriveled, covered in a thick layer of flour, like a giant pancake waiting to be baked.
From the crimson lair beneath the flour layer, tremors and roars could be heard intermittently—the sounds coming from Hastar.
"Good. Now confirm whether this can be moved. Develop a plan for attempting to relocate it."
"Yes, sir."
Marcus nodded. The plan was half successful. If the lair couldn't be moved, another method would have to be used.
He felt like he'd forgotten something after a long day. Thinking back, he took a few steps closer to the lair, took out the monitor, and turned it on.
The screen flickered a few times, then the image gradually became clear.
The right half of the screen was blocked by the red inner wall; only the left half of the lens captured the scene inside the lair. The camera had clearly fallen to the ground.
Through the left side of the screen, on the filthy, crimson ground, there was a flour circle less than three feet in diameter—just big enough for one person to stand in.
A foot-wide opening was missing from the flour circle; there was no one inside.
The flour at the gap was spreading outward in a fan shape, seemingly created by someone crawling out from within the circle.
Marcus noticed the remaining fragments of flesh and bones on the ground, indicating there was clearly more than one person.
"What happened?"
Marcus tentatively asked the monitor.
Hiss~, hoo!
The monitor showed that the inner wall of the lair's edge suddenly began to writhe, and a fleshy, fused figure struggled to lift its rotting head.
Marcus was genuinely worried that if it lifted its head any further, it would detach from its neck; the decay was simply too severe.
"Raghav... for the sake of friendship... please kill me!"
Vinayak's hoarse voice came from the rotting body.
"Didn't I leave enough flour? How did you all die so quickly?"
"Hiss! It's infighting,"
Vinayak roared angrily.
"Those two thought the flour circle for three people was too large, and with limited flour, they didn't know when you'd be back."
"Shahu said he'd been to school for a year, and if the diameter of the circle were halved, half the flour could be saved, which meant doubling survival time."
"He and Habib together pushed me out."
Vinayak laughed mockingly as he said this.
"Hahaha, do you know what happened next?"
"While Shahu was drawing the circle, Habib pushed him out too. Shahu's hand was injured, and he couldn't resist Habib at all, but Habib had snatched the flour sack."
"After Hastar bit me, he tore Shahu apart. Habib had no flour to fight off Hastar, and he was torn apart as well."
Vinayak finished speaking and cried out in pain, trembling.
"Save me, Raghav! Give me some food! I'm so hungry! You have endless wealth, all I need is a little food! I need to eat!"
Vinayak screamed madly, his voice hoarse.
"Yes, you damned coward, thief, villain! You didn't even have the guts to come in! Come on, kill me, please!"
He continued his frantic screams to express his agony.
"Sleep, Hastar is coming for you!"
Marcus murmured these words softly.
In the movie, this phrase was specifically used to deal with the undead bitten by Hastar.
As soon as these words were spoken, the rotting undead would fall asleep.
As soon as the words were spoken, Vinayak fell into a deep sleep, snoring softly.
"Human nature is truly terrifying!"
Marcus silently turned off the monitor.
Although he wouldn't specifically rescue these three, he didn't intend to kill them directly either.
If they could hold on for a couple more days inside, perhaps there would be a glimmer of hope when the subsequent plan unfolded.
If they were lucky enough to survive, Marcus was willing to offer them salvation. Unfortunately, they perished together within hours.
As the saying goes, only the fittest survive; those who can't endure deserve no pity!
He had already died once, barely managing to gain a foothold, and had no right to pity others.
Inside the sinkhole of the temple, a group of soldiers were using shovels to dig a tunnel beneath the specimen.
"What is this?!"
"Is it its tail?"
"No, this looks like some kind of feeding tube. Does this thing even need that?"
The soldiers were digging horizontally in the middle of the tunnel, intending to create a cross-shaped tunnel at the bottom of the specimen.
After digging only a few times, they unearthed a ten-foot-thick, sausage-like strip of flesh, connected to the specimen at one end, with the other end buried at an unknown depth.
Marcus stepped forward to examine the situation closely. The connection between the tube and Hastar's lair was solid, meaning Hastar couldn't emerge from this area.
He tried placing his hand on it, activating his absorption ability, but there was no reaction; he couldn't absorb it.
"Keep digging and see how deep it goes,"
Marcus said coldly.
He only planned to waste another hour; if the result was still uncertain, he would implement the backup plan.
Hearing the order, the soldiers continued digging in shifts.
A staff officer hurried over.
"Sir, the 255th Armored Battalion you dispatched will arrive in 10 minutes."
"Excellent!"
"Once the armored battalion arrives, surround the entire temple. All gun barrels should be aimed at the sinkhole. If any unexpected situation arises, open fire immediately,"
Marcus stepped out of the tunnel and gave the order.
Meanwhile,
in the government building of Pune, inside the office of the Colonial Governor,
Governor Arthur Freeman, his face flushed red, was roaring, veins bulging in his neck.
A group of silent government officials surrounded him.
"That damned Mitchell! That warmonger should be court-martialed! What is he trying to do? Where's the intelligence? Where's the justification?"
"Good God, look at what that madman's done! 152 Sherman M4A4 tanks, all fully loaded and armed!"
"Has he lost his mind? What enemies could possibly be in the area?"
"Is he going to attack the French colonies? Does he want to start another war?"
Governor Freeman was furious. This was the final year of his five-year term.
He was currently running for reappointment, and if something happened at this crucial moment, his chances would be severely damaged.
This Mitchell had never supported his "peaceful development" policy, and they had irreconcilable differences on political views.
Now, without submitting an application to London, he had directly mobilized armored forces, their destination unknown.
"What are you all standing around for? Call Mitchell right now and find out exactly what this lunatic is up to. Get those tanks back immediately!"
Governor Freeman roared at the crowd. Several officials, spurred on by the outburst, rushed to the phone, frantically dialing.
"Sir, an urgent telegram from the Governor's office. They're asking what we're doing, saying..."
A staff officer approached Marcus, stammering halfway through his sentence.
"Says what? Speak freely!"
Marcus asked calmly, seemingly unconcerned.
"They say if you don't immediately withdraw the armored battalion, they'll protest to London and send you to a military court."
The staff officer said somewhat helplessly. Being caught in the middle relaying messages between the two higher-ups was far too uncomfortable.
"Alright, tell him it's just training exercises. We'll just maneuver around Tumbbad village. I'll go find him later."
Marcus waved his hand, signaling the staff officer to go and relay the message.
He didn't consider himself a violent person; resolving matters peacefully through negotiation was the best approach, avoiding conflict.
Unfortunately, some people are always blind to reason, mistaking gentle methods for weakness and forcing him to resort to violence.
Take Hastar, for example. If it were willing to communicate with him, willingly die so he could complete the mission, it would be so much easier.
But it insisted on guarding its lair, biting anyone it could get its hands on, showing no intention of negotiation whatsoever.
That young soldier, Cooper Harker—he told the truth about Tumbbad's treasure, even enthusiastically showing it off, yet the man wanted to shoot him.
And then there's Colonel Mitchell, who he offered a chest of gold to in exchange for military support, promising generous rewards to the soldiers afterward.
But the old man not only refused but also wanted to confiscate his gold and planned to have him shot.
He's absolutely a reasonable person; it's all these people who are forcing him to use violence!
Yes, that's it!
Marcus nodded to himself, completely convinced by his own logic.
After all, he'd been to Hell. Compared to Pinhead and the Cenobites, these people were amateurs at cruelty.
(End of Chapter)
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