916
The members of MI9 could never have imagined that, in less than a minute, a tunnel originally spacious enough to walk through without hitting their heads would collapse until they could barely advance on their hands and knees.
More terrifying still, the water kept rising faster. They had to exert every ounce of strength to keep their faces and noses above it. The water forced them to bend down, and muddy water thick with the rank smell of earth and coarse grit kept slapping their faces. Advancing in single file, they had nowhere to dodge. They could not open their eyes at all, and would soon drown in this narrow tunnel.
Once water filled the entire tunnel, the current swept them helplessly down. Just as despair seized them all, they suddenly found themselves airborne, then tumbled like dumplings into the pitch-black underground water.
The Demon of Knowledge held 0-08 with his wrist suspended above the page, preparing to write more, when he suddenly saw several words he had written twist slightly before their outlines darkened, as though the ink had spread.
He glanced at the darkened words, then simply turned the blank thread-bound notebook to a new page. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Communicating with these fellows who symbolize rulers is such a nuisance."
The Demon of Knowledge grumbled to himself:
"The Tyrant, the Emperor, they're all the same. Even after I spell out the terms, these fellows often refuse to believe me. The Tyrant is better, at least. He relies on his strength and thinks everything can be easily resolved. The one still inside the Imperial Mausoleum is terribly suspicious."
"It's the same over there, too. The Imperial Court has never stopped trying to make us obey their orders. After all, obeying even one could be