"Father, look, there seems to be a light over there!" Maru pointed toward the front left. We switched off our flashlights, and sure enough, there was a faint glimmer ahead.
The kid really did have sharp eyes.
We turned our flashlights back on and headed toward the front left.
When we got closer, we saw that the light came from an oil lamp.
The oil lamp was in someone's hand—an old man's hand.
The old man looked to be seventy or eighty years old. His back was hunched, and his face and hands were covered in wrinkles. His gray-white hair hung over his shoulders. It had clearly been unwashed and uncombed for a long time, tangled and messy, with bits of debris caught in it. Yet his eyes were completely white, with no black pupils visible. He was blind!
A foul, fishy stench wafted from him. It was hard to describe exactly what it smelled like, but it was enough to make one want to vomit.
"You finally came. Good, good. Since you've come, follow me." He sounded as though he were talking to himself, yet also as though he were speaking to us.
But after saying that, he ignored us entirely and turned to leave.
He walked very slowly, as though he were afraid of accidentally stepping on an ant.
Of course, he could not see at all. Even if he walked slowly, he would still step on an ant if one was beneath his feet.
"Old man, please wait!" I called out. We did not follow him. Instead, we tried to stop him.
He did not stop. He merely muttered, "Just follow me."
"Father, why is this person so strange?"
I gave a wry smile. I also felt there was something wrong with the old man. Not just