Just as he always carried a weapon when going out, Old John also had the good habit of keeping a Swiss Army knife on him at all tis.
The restroom ceiling was about 2.5 ters high. Even Old John, the tallest of the three, could only reach about 2.3 ters on tiptoe. He handed the knife to Everly, then crouched down to let his lighter granddaughter climb onto his shoulders. Bracing one hand against the wooden partition of a stall and supporting Everly’s back with the other, he straightened up so she could use the screwdriver attachnt from the knife to remove the vent cover.
However, just as she had unscrewed two screws, a chaotic rush of footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. Imdiately afterward, the handle of the n’s restroom door began twisting frantically, producing a rapid series of click-clack noises.
“Open the door—please open it! Soone’s killing people in the theater! Let in—!”
Through the thin wooden door, the tearful plea for help outside ca through loud and clear to the three of them.
Everly and Old John didn’t respond at all.
There was no way to know whether the person outside was truly a victim or one of the masked attackers. If they opened the door and were t with a burst of gunfire, all three of them would die on the spot. Besides, there was a won’s restroom right next door—whoever it was didn’t necessarily have to enter the n’s restroom to take shelter.
In a situation like this, survival ca first. If they were going to save anyone, it would have to be after they were out of danger.
Without saying a word, Everly simply sped up her movents, focusing on removing the screws. But Xinkalan was an old theater with quite a history, and who knew how long it had been since the vent cover was last replaced. Two of the screws were heavily rusted; the screwdriver barely caught in their grooves, making them extrely difficult to turn.
Old John had locked the door and wedged a mop behind it. The person outside twisted the handle a few tis and then slamd against the door with several loud thuds, but the thin wooden panel refused to give way. Eventually, they ran off elsewhere.
But that was only the beginning.
The slaughter in the auditorium next door had clearly begun. Waves of spectators who had been seated near the small eastern side door of the auditorium now poured out in succession. The n’s restroom door faced that side entrance directly, so almost everyone who rushed out tried the restroom door handle, rattling the lock and ramming the wooden panel. After repeated impacts, the already flimsy door began to show signs of strain.
“Misha, you form the ladder. I’ll hold the door.”
Seeing the situation worsening, Old John decisively switched places with Misha. Of the three, he was the strongest and most physically powerful—only he could keep the restroom from being breached.
Having survived the cockroach disaster in Lemot Town, Misha was no fragile, helpless girl. In fact, after the disaster ended, worried that they might not be able to escape if sothing similar happened again, the entire town of Lemot had sparked a fitness craze. Misha might look slender and delicate, but when she rolled up her sleeves, there was solid muscle in her arms.
Misha braced both hands against the wooden partition of the stall and let Everly step onto her shoulders. Clenching her teeth, she planted her feet firmly against the ground, straightened her waist with force, and steadily lifted Everly upward.
“Thanks,” Everly whispered. With one hand gripping the top of the stall for balance and the other working the screwdriver, she pried at the screws with even greater effort.
Finally, the third screw ca loose. With support gone on three sides, the vent cover tilted downward, opening a narrow gap.
At that very mont, the dense gunfire from the waiting hall abruptly ceased.
In its place ca the sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor—slow, deliberate, drawing closer like the murmur of death itself.
Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang!
In the suffocating silence, the n’s restroom door was struck again—this ti with far greater force than before. Soone outside was clearly kicking it. Veins bulged along Old John’s arms as he threw his full weight against the door, barely managing to hold it shut.
“Damn it, won’t kick open.”
“We’ll grab an axe later. ‘Tiger’ and the others are still outside. They can’t escape.”
“Let’s go kill the ones next door first.”
Low voices murmured outside the door. Then the heavy footsteps shifted away, moving toward the nearby won’s restroom.
Everly knew the people next door wouldn’t last long.
In monts like this, the more urgent the danger, the more crucial it was to stay calm. Seeing that the final rusted screw simply wouldn’t budge, Everly curled her fingers into a claw and gripped the corroded vent cover. Using that last screw as a pivot point, she poured every ounce of strength into it. With a harsh twist and scrape, the stiff connection finally gave way. The cover swung aside, revealing a ventilation opening large enough for a person to crawl through.
“I’ll go first. Give a boost!”
After warning Misha, she clenched the Swiss Army knife between her teeth and grasped both inner edges of the ventilation duct. The muscles hidden beneath her sleeves tightened sharply. Bringing her legs together and drawing her center of gravity upward, she pushed off the top of the stall with her toes and lifted herself smoothly and swiftly up to the level of the duct.
Below, Misha lifted Everly’s legs at just the right mont. Using the strength of her arms and waist, she helped Everly brace herself against the duct and pull both legs fully inside.
Everly’s small fra made it easier. Once inside, she quickly turned around in the narrow space, flattened herself against the tal surface, and reached both hands down.
“Misha—jump! Grab my hands!”
Old John had just finished reinforcing the restroom door again, this ti using mops and brooms from the innermost stall to strengthen the barricade. Seeing the situation, he hurried over and helped Everly pull Misha up and into the duct as well.
Now, only Old John remained on the ground.
At that exact mont, the door to the won’s restroom next door was kicked open with a thunderous bang. The rapid rat-tat-tat of a submachine gun followed imdiately. The screams of n and won rang out—but only briefly before they were abruptly cut off.
Thud. Thud.
After dealing with the won’s restroom, heavy footsteps once again echoed down the corridor, heading toward the n’s restroom. This ti the steps were denser than before, as if more attackers were joining in.
Inside the n’s restroom, Old John quickly wiped away the footprints Everly had left on the wooden partition. He took off his boots and tossed them up to Everly. Then, barefoot, he backed up, took a short running start, and used the montum to kick hard against the wooden stall wall.
Bang! Bang-bang!
At the sa ti, heavy chopping sounds struck the restroom door. The force was so great that dust and plaster shook loose from the wall behind it, scattering across the floor. The sound of the axe hacking into wood overlapped perfectly with Old John’s forceful push upward.
Just one second before the door split open with a gaping crack, Old John firmly grasped Everly’s outstretched arm. Pulling himself up, drawing in his legs, and stepping on the top of the stall partition, he awkwardly but successfully hoisted himself into the ventilation duct.
Crack!
The sound of wood breaking rang out. The person outside yanked the axe free and kicked hard at the fractured spot, widening it into a fist-sized hole. A rat mask appeared in the opening, peering into the restroom.
At that very instant, Old John’s toes slipped fully into the duct. Because of the limited angle, the rat-masked attacker failed to notice.
“There’s no one in here. Maybe they’re hiding in the stalls.”
The rat-masked man reported to his teammates, then withdrew his head and reached an arm through the hole, removing the mops and brooms wedged behind the door.
The mont Old John successfully entered the duct, Everly imdiately crawled forward to make space for him. At the sa ti, Misha, positioned at the rear, quietly reached back to the vent cover. She slowly rotated it back toward the opening, then hooked her fingers into the gap and lifted the sagging corner upward, pressing it snugly against the duct entrance.
All three were drenched in sweat. Holding their breath, they lay motionless inside the narrow ventilation shaft, listening to the sounds below.
Soone unlocked the door through the hole. The next second, masked n poured into the restroom one after another, guns raised, kicking open each stall in turn.
Empty. Empty. Empty… empty!
“Where did they go? The door was locked—there had to be soone in here!”
“Did they climb out the window?”
One of them walked to the upward-tilted window and hooked a finger around a handkerchief Everly had deliberately left behind, holding it up for the others to see.
The group gathered at the window and bent down to peer outside. Sure enough, scattered across the open ground beyond lay several bodies—people who had fled the building earlier and been shot down by the masked gunn in the parking lot.
“Damn it, ‘Tiger’ and the others beat us to it again! That’s fewer offerings for the ‘Master’ from …”
“Don’t worry. There are still plenty of people left. Our Lord will see our sincerity.”
The masked n searched the restroom a while longer before leaving, grumbling among themselves. Not one of them thought to glance up at the ceiling. Naturally, no one noticed the small section of finger hooked tightly against the rusted vent cover’s edge.
Everly, Misha, and Old John remained frozen in the duct, not daring to move until they were certain everyone had gone.
“What now?” Old John whispered.
“We find sowhere safer to hide. The screws on this cover have been removed—if soone looks closely, they’ll notice,” Everly replied softly.
After a brief, hushed discussion, she and Old John decided to crawl along the ventilation system and move into another room.
If the ventilation ducts had been external, there was no way they could have supported the weight of three people crawling through them. Fortunately, almost all of the ducts in the Xinkalan Theater were built inside the walls, except for a few sections. Crawling through them was ssy—plus of dust, occasional click-clack noises—but structurally, they held up fine.
Everly led at the front of the line, with Old John behind her and Misha at the rear. Everly and Old John were okay since they were crawling through the more central, reinforced sections of the duct. Misha, however, faced a trickier spot: a partition secured by only a single screw separated her from the two ahead. She had to carefully lift herself, bracing against the duct walls on either side as she moved forward, making absolutely sure not to touch the panel below—or she would fall.
It took a full five minutes, but drenched in sweat, Misha finally passed the precarious section safely.
With the possibility of soone entering the n’s restroom at any mont, the three couldn’t stop to rest. Leading the way, Everly guided them along the single ventilation shaft. Soon, they reached a T-shaped fork.
Everly suspected this led to the eastern corridor. She noticed a vent a short distance to the left. Making a “wait” gesture to the two behind her, she crawled ahead to the vent. Peering carefully through the grille, she looked down.
Beneath the cover lay a corridor lined with a red velvet carpet. Several bodies were sprawled face-down along its length, apparently shot while trying to escape. Aside from the corpses, the corridor was empty.
From the layout, it was clear this was the eastern corridor they had passed through earlier while fleeing. Continuing down the left path would lead back toward the front waiting hall. The right path of the T likely led to the backstage area they hadn’t reached before.
Having seen so many masked attackers in the hall, Everly didn’t want to risk going back that way. Any loud noise during crawling could reveal their location, making it far too dangerous.
So she reversed direction, returned to the T-junction, and began crawling down the right-hand corridor instead.
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