A Journey of American Comics Starting from the Zombie Universe

Chapter 675 Underground Dark Room
Just as the soldiers were immersed in intense and fierce combat training, with their sweat and breathing interweaving into unyielding pictures, Smith quietly walked out of his office with a solemn and resolute step. His eyes passed through the hustle and bustle of the camp, as if penetrating the barrier of time and returning to the moment that made him feel uneasy - the diary he found by accident, and those vague but thought-provoking clues.

Smith knew that it was not just a book that recorded past secrets, but also a key to open the door to an unknown world. Although the last exploration did not bring more substantial discoveries, his intuition told him that there were more unsolved mysteries hidden in that place, and perhaps this time he could gain something, even if it was just a tiny fragment, which would be enough to piece together a more complete truth.

Without alerting anyone, Smith set out on the road to the mysterious area alone. The scenery along the way seemed to lose its color in his eyes, and his mind was completely immersed in the unknown that he might face. The area was an abandoned woodland on the edge of the military camp, with weeds and sparse trees. It was rarely visited on weekdays, but it unexpectedly became a great place to hide secrets.

As he walked deeper, Smith gradually felt the oppression of the surrounding environment. There was an indescribable dullness in the air, as if even the wind had stopped at this moment. He held the flashlight tightly in his hand, and the beam of light drew a faint but firm track in the darkness, leading him forward.

Finally, he came to the place where he found the diary last time. It was still the same, but the passage of time made the surrounding scenery more desolate. Smith squatted down and searched carefully around, not missing any corner that might hide clues. He used his hands to push away weeds, turned over stones, and even used a small shovel he carried with him to dig the seemingly ordinary soil, hoping to find something.

However, as time went by, Smith couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. There seemed to be no new traces left here except weeds and soil. His forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, blending into the darkness around him and making it difficult to distinguish. But he did not give up and continued to persist, as if he was struggling with himself and also fighting against fate.

At this moment, a sudden gust of wind passed through the woods, bringing a hint of coolness and blowing away some of the irritability in his heart. Smith involuntarily stopped what he was doing and looked up at the sky. The moonlight shone through the sparse clouds, casting mottled light and shadows, adding a bit of mystery and depth to this silent woodland.

In this moment of silence, Smith seemed to sense something unusual. He turned his head sharply, his eyes fixed on a corner he had not noticed before. There was a stone slab half-covered by weeds, and the edge of the stone slab seemed to have been turned over. Smith's heartbeat accelerated, and he quickly walked forward and carefully moved the stone slab away.

Under the stone slab was a small space with a rusty iron box inside. The iron box was covered with a thick layer of dust, and it had obviously not been touched for a long time. Smith's heartbeat almost jumped out of his chest, and he opened the lid of the iron box with trembling hands.

Inside the iron box was a worn-out diary, which was almost identical to the one he found last time. But the difference was that the cover of this diary was more tattered and the handwriting was more blurred and difficult to read. Smith couldn't wait to open the diary, only to see some more obscure contents and some seemingly unrelated symbols and patterns.

As he read deeper, Smith's face gradually became solemn. He realized that the contents of this diary were far more complicated and dangerous than he had imagined. Those symbols and patterns seemed to hide some ancient secrets, a power that could subvert existing cognition.

Smith felt a chill running down his spine, realizing that he might have touched upon an area that he shouldn't have touched. But at this moment, he had no way out and could only bite the bullet and continue to explore. He knew that this was not only to satisfy his curiosity, but also to uncover the mystery that had troubled him for so long, to find the answer that could save the city and even the world.

However, as the truth gradually approached, Smith also felt unprecedented pressure and danger. He didn't know whether he could withstand all the shocks and tests, and he didn't know whether his choice was right. But what he knew was that no matter whether there was light or darkness ahead, he had to persevere until he found the final answer.

Just as Smith was about to close the iron box with mixed feelings and leave this unknown and dangerous forest with the newly discovered diary, a slight noise broke the silence around him. He raised his head suddenly, his eyes were sharp, and he scanned the surroundings, trying to catch the source of the fleeting sound. However, except for the rustling sound of the night wind blowing through the leaves and the occasional night bird calls in the distance, everything seemed to be calm.

Just as Smith was about to set off again, his eyes inadvertently fell on an old and twisted tree root on the right. The tree root was unusually thick and intertwined, like a work of art carefully carved by nature. Under the weak moonlight, the moss and soil covering the surface of the tree root seemed to hide an unusual luster.

Smith's heart moved, and he slowly approached the ancient tree. As the distance shortened, he felt that the luster was unusual, as if it was a trace of artificial carving. He squatted down and gently brushed away the dirt and moss on the roots of the tree, and a hidden secret door gradually appeared.

The secret door was so cleverly designed that it blended in with the tree roots and was almost imperceptible unless carefully observed. The intricate patterns carved on the secret door were strikingly similar to the symbols on the diary in the iron box, which further aroused Smith's curiosity and desire to explore.

He took a deep breath to calm his excitement, then carefully reached out and gently pushed open the secret door. With a slight "creak", the secret door slowly opened, and a cold and damp breath rushed in, making people shiver involuntarily.

Smith did not hesitate. He held the flashlight tightly and took the first step into the unknown world. Behind the secret door was a narrow and winding stone staircase. On both sides of the stone staircase were rough stone walls, which were also carved with those mysterious symbols and patterns. The beam of the flashlight jumped on the stone staircase, bringing a faint light to the dark space.

Smith walked down the stone steps slowly, taking each step with extreme caution. He didn't know where the stone steps would lead to, and he didn't know what was waiting for him. But his desire for the unknown and his courage to explore made him unable to stop.

As he went deeper, the stone steps became steeper and the air became more damp and colder. Smith could clearly hear his heartbeat and breathing echoing in the narrow space. The flashlight in his hand began to tremble slightly, but this was not because of fear, but because of excitement and anticipation.

Finally, the stone steps came to an end, and a heavy stone door appeared in front of him. This stone door was completely different from the previous secret door. It was much larger and stronger, as if it could withstand all the forces in the world. The stone door was also engraved with those mysterious symbols and patterns, which flickered strangely in the weak light. Smith stood in front of the stone door, staring at those symbols and patterns, and an inexplicable sense of familiarity surged in his heart. He seemed to be able to feel the power and wisdom behind these symbols, which was an existence beyond his cognition.

He took a deep breath, reached out his hand, and gently touched a certain symbol on the stone door. At that moment, the entire space seemed to tremble. Then, a low and long mechanical sound came from the stone door, as if a giant beast that had been sleeping for a thousand years was slowly waking up.

Smith's heartbeat accelerated to the extreme, he stared at the stone door that was slowly opening, his heart full of anticipation and anxiety. He didn't know what secrets and dangers were hidden behind the door, but he knew that this moment had come and he could no longer escape.

As the stone door was fully opened, a stronger breath came to his face, a mixture of ancient, mysterious and dangerous. Smith took a deep breath and took the last step into the unknown. He didn't know what he would face, but he knew that this would be the most important and unforgettable adventure in his life.

The creaking sound of the door hinges reverberated in the empty underground space, and with a stale and damp air blowing in his face, Commissioner Smith stepped into the unknown area hidden behind the heavy stone door. The beam of the flashlight flickered in the dimness, barely illuminating the scene within a few meters in front of him. This space seemed even colder than the outside world, and the air was filled with a long-lost silence and desolation.

Smith walked forward cautiously, each step making a dull sound on the hard and cold ground. As he went deeper, the surrounding scene began to become clear. This was a small room that looked abandoned for many years. The walls were made of rough stones, and the surface was covered with thick moss and mold, revealing the traces of time. The ceiling was low and almost within reach, giving people a depressing feeling.

There were all kinds of debris scattered around the room, the most eye-catching of which was a pile of empty cans and used plastic bags. These items were thrown on the ground at random, some of them had rotted and deformed, emitting a foul smell. Smith frowned, his heart full of doubts. He didn't understand why there were traces of human life in this isolated underground space, and he didn't understand why these traces were abandoned so carelessly.

He squatted down and carefully examined the cans and plastic bags. The labels on the cans had long been blurred, and it was impossible to identify the original brand and contents, but from the traces left, it could be inferred that they must have been there for a long time. The plastic bags were mostly transparent and empty, with only a few still having some dried stains, making it impossible to imagine what they had been loaded with.

Smith stood up and looked around, trying to find more clues from other parts of the room. However, apart from these messy items, the room was almost empty. There was no furniture, no tools, not even a bed for people to rest. It seemed like a temporary shelter, or a base abandoned in a hurry.

He walked to a corner of the room, where some worn-out clothes and shoes were piled. These clothes were also in tatters, and some were even rotten to pieces. Smith gently flipped through them, hoping to find some useful information or clues. But apart from his hands full of dust and musty smell, he found nothing.

Just as he was about to give up the search, his eyes suddenly fell on an inconspicuous corner. There was a rusty iron box, the surface of which was covered with thick dust and moss, almost blending in with the surrounding environment. Smith's heart moved, and he realized that this iron box might hide some important secrets or clues.

He approached the iron box carefully and shone the flashlight beam on it carefully. There was no keyhole or handle on the iron box, and it looked like it was welded shut. But Smith did not give up. He began to look around the box for possible ways to open it. After some effort, he finally found a tiny mechanism in a hidden corner.

He gently pressed the mechanism, and with a "click" sound, the lid of the iron box slowly popped open. A stronger musty smell came with the opening of the box, which made Smith frown. But he did not retreat, but stared at the inside of the box, hoping to find something valuable.

However, when he saw the inside of the box, his face turned gloomy. There was no gold, silver, treasure or important documents in the box as he had imagined, only a pile of even more worn-out clothes and some seemingly insignificant sundries. What shocked him even more was that among these sundries, there were actually a few yellowed old photos and a few letters with blurred handwriting.

Smith picked up the photos and letters and examined them carefully. The people in the photos were blurry, but from their clothes and background, it could be inferred that they were from a long time ago. The letters were private correspondence, mostly about family matters and emotional entanglements, which seemed to have no direct connection with the purpose of Smith's trip.

However, just as he was about to put the photos and letters back into the box, his eyes were suddenly attracted by a certain word on one of the letters. Although the word was blurry and difficult to distinguish, it gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity. He had a strong urge to find out the story behind the letter and the secret it concealed.

So Smith began to read the captions on the back of the letters and photos more carefully. As he got deeper into them, a complex story of betrayal, escape, and hiding began to emerge in his mind. He realized that behind these seemingly insignificant items, there might be an unknown history and a shocking secret.

However, what exactly is this secret? How is it related to the purpose of Smith's trip? How can he solve this mystery? These questions are like huge rocks pressing on his heart, making him feel unprecedentedly heavy and depressed. He knows that he must keep moving forward and continue to explore this underground space full of unknowns and dangers until he finds the truth that can answer all the questions.

(End of this chapter)