"Retreat!"
"Move, now!"
The instant the alarm sounded, the elderly professor from Shen Le's alma mater immediately raised his voice and shouted. As he yelled, he grabbed the record book beside him and waved it at the students.
"Leave everything! Put it down here! Get out immediately!"
With a rush of movement, the students crowded around him, supporting their instructor as they ran down the slope.
The junior disciple who was on his first archaeological field assignment had been slow to react at first. But after a startled jolt, he turned out to be the fastest runner of them all.
Run!
Run, quickly!
His senior martial brothers and senior sisters had told him again and again: if you ran too slowly in situations like this, ghosts would latch onto you!
The local archaeological team reacted more slowly instead, forcing the Special Affairs Bureau agents to rush over and wave and herd them away. It couldn't be helped—resources were limited. Unlike the faculty and students at top universities, they had never received sufficient training.
Nor did they have connections broad enough to hear countless stories of archaeological accidents before heading out for their first assignment.
Of course, they had heard even less about the Special Affairs Bureau hovering over them, constantly saving the day—sometimes failing to do so, sending professors and students alike to the hospital. Fortunately, the inspection equipment deployed by the Special Affairs Bureau was sensitive enough, and the "thing" unearthed from this porcelain kiln was not particularly fierce.
The group looked around nervously and whispered among themselves, still trying to grab a few record books or excavated artifacts.
Yet when the alarm sounded for the third time, everyone had retreated beyond the cordoned-off area.
Then they turned back.
"Huh? Professor Zhang, why is that student of yours still