Puzzle Madness

Chapter 148 Howling (Part 1)

The pedestrian street at Truong Son Beach isn't exactly prime real estate, but compared to other areas of Mong Cai, it's still considered quite bustling.

On both sides of the walkway, there are rows of colorful bungalows; the ground floor is full of shops selling souvenirs and jewelry, hot dogs and kebabs, most of which are closed down, and many windows are boarded up.

The second floor and above are filled with guesthouses and seaside bars; the windowsills with iron railings extend outwards.

Some of the wooden roofs are dilapidated and full of holes; the newspapers said that the city would carry out unified renovations in a while; but now these roofs are like horse pits, full of large holes of varying heights and exposed steel bars; as if they have been hit by a meteor shower.

Although there was a playground on the other side of the beach, there was also a children's playground here. The ground was a soft mat that had long been worn and faded from being walked on; the swings and slides were covered with rust from the sea breeze and creaked when they swayed.

It's hard to say this is a good place to fight—especially during a typhoon.

The fog was more annoying than the rain, blowing right past the rain hat and sticking to my cheeks.

Whether it's ultrasound or infrasound, DouDou's ears can't detect it; only his vision tells him that the forty-nine mouths the cataloger is holding are roaring with all their might—
In the silence, the bungalows, restaurants, and bars at both ends of the pedestrian walkway burst open like bursting, translucent bouquets, gushing into the air like fountains; they are like glass windows that turn into shards at the sound of shouts.

The howling continued. Suddenly:
The already soft and moldy wooden planks underfoot began to swell and bulge; it was as if water was boiling and bubbling up. Then it suddenly burst open.

[The peeling and crackling sound continued.]

DouDou provided the voiceover in her imagination: because she couldn't hear anything in her ears right now--
Centered on Doudou, the wooden walkway within a radius of about ten meters shattered and exploded, scattering wood chips everywhere. Waves of rotten wood dust surged upwards and to the left and right, while water-soaked wooden spikes embedded themselves in the bungalows on both sides; the glass had long since shattered, its fragments sinking into the sand.

DouDou lightly tiptoed and leaped backward, swaying gently. The raincoat was vibrating and crackling; each time a piece of wood splinter hit the hem, it was immediately shaken off.

[Huh?! Are sonic weapons that powerful?]
DouDou exclaimed in surprise, but the words she uttered were inaudible even to herself.

I don't watch many military programs, but I have heard of weapons that are closer to those in science fiction.

【Hey, I'm perfectly fine.】

Upon landing, DouDou patted his head. He didn't feel dizzy, his balance was still intact, and he didn't experience tinnitus. There was no internal bleeding, and his internal organs were all in their proper places. He remembered a TV program mentioning that sonic weapons could significantly interfere with bodily functions.

Even wooden planks can be damaged like this by vibration. Could it be that the sound waves stirred up air bubbles from the water trapped in the cavity below? After all, this wooden walkway has been built for many years and has been subjected to the ravages of the sea breeze.

At least there was no impactful kinetic energy: DouDou was hoping to be blasted away by a highly expressive wave.

The howling or roaring had no effect on him; he still couldn't hear a sound.

Aside from that, DouDou's biggest feeling was only --
Shaking: Although the wooden floor rippled and a shallow pit appeared, the remaining planks continued to undulate like waves, brewing for the next eruption.

The cataloger didn't stay put. His expression was hidden by the mask, but the thoughts he conveyed were all the more vivid:

[Quickly--walk walk walk walk walk walk walk/Get moving, get moving, get moving].

The two [spheres] on their feet started moving first: their hands and feet moved rapidly, spinning like propellers around their joints, leaving afterimages in their wake.

Like a pair of excessively large and bizarre roller skates—
呼：
They rushed out diagonally, and the cataloger was pulled backward by the [spheres] beneath his feet, nearly falling; but the [spheres] behind him moved even faster: six or seven pairs of arms suddenly pushed and shoved, pulling him back to an upright position; then they ran even faster, catching up to the cataloger. [Don't go near him/Don't go near him/Follow me/Follow me/Go up/Go up/Quick!]

DouDou had some difficulty discerning whether he first "spread the message" or first started moving.

Thoughts flow like lightning: thoughts pass through the mind much faster than words.

The spheres beneath his feet formed a high-speed wave, propelling the cataloger in another direction—towards the wall of the bungalow.

In the silhouette cast by the engineering lights, he and those [spheres] coalesced into a rapidly crawling scorpion. Although there were no claws, the cataloger was a scorpion tail held high with a venomous stinger.

The foremost [sphere] subspecies stands up comically, spins around, kneels with its legs together, grasps its forearms with both hands, and then pushes itself upwards: the following one does not hesitate, kicking its arm and rising even higher.

It is using itself as a stepping stone and springboard, sending its "companions" behind it into the air.

Wow, their movements are so lifelike! They were just like little dogs a moment ago.

The spheres, leaping into the air, used their hands and feet, their fingertips digging into the slippery cracks of the brick walls; their biceps bulged high, almost bursting through their skin. They were more powerful than they looked, climbing without even making a mistake.

This is really strange: Does the [sphere] subspecies even have back muscles? Considering its small body weight, it is truly unimaginable that it can "climb" like this using only the strength of its arms to grab and its feet to push off.

They hooked their fingertips around the edge of the roof, then spread their bodies out, extending their other hand downwards; their forearms clasped together with the two [spheres] at the cataloger's feet—
With a forceful tug, a lift, and a push, the cataloger and his "shoes" were sent to the roof: the remaining [spheres] also jumped up, supporting each other, to keep up with the pioneers.

Those who fell to the back even grabbed the leg of the [sphere] in front of them as it bent, and swung it back into the line like Tarzan.

In the blink of an eye, more than ten [sphere] subspecies carried the upright catalogers to the top of a four-story, ten-meter-high flat building, as if walking on flat ground.

The spheres then cleared a path ahead; they pushed aside the overturned planks with exposed nails, and filled the gaps and depressions in the roof with their hands, feet, and bodies:

Later arrivals stepped over the bodies of these pioneers, their pace quickening: even accelerating, stirring up howling winds, seemingly becoming more and more accustomed to running; carrying the catalogers like waves surging over the rooftops.

DouDou's gaze followed the cataloger and the [spheres] as they moved like army ants, her eyes glued to them.

It was such a short distance, a mere thought could have bridged it, allowing him to grab the cataloger by the index finger and yank him off his face; but he couldn't bear to disrupt this circus-like performance—
DouDou has never seen acrobatics or acrobatics in person, but there have been quite a few overseas circuses shown on "Zhengda Variety Show"; none of the aerial acrobats in those shows have such elegant and swift coordination.

As time went on, the [spheres] moved faster—now, their every movement was dazzling.

If they participated in my school's class dance program, their group dances would definitely be very synchronized. Luckily, I don't have to participate.

[Well done! Well done! / Speed ​​up! / Let's rush through together!]

From these mental broadcasts, DouDou could no longer "hear" the cataloger's fear; and the blood-red biochemical protective suit lost all its trembling and swaying, instead forcefully straightening its chest, with the hand on its face pointing diagonally to the sky.

Just like when athletes actually step onto the field, hesitation and doubt retreat into the depths—only the competition itself is worth paying attention to.

(End of this chapter)