National Guardian's Gone and We're Done

He tossed out one shovelful of dirt after another, each one landing on the edge of the pit with a dull thud.

However, as he dug deeper, something even more bizarre and terrifying happened.

Blood began to seep from the excavated soil in a steady stream.

At first, it was just a trickle.

Slowly, the volume increased,

until it began to bubble up, GURGLE GURGLE, like boiling blood.

The blood gave off a pungent, metallic stench that was nauseating.

And the color of the soil grew ever more vibrant red,

turning completely the color of fresh blood.

It was as if they weren’t digging up ordinary soil, but human flesh and tissue, which gave off a nauseating, coppery reek.

This terrifying and bizarre scene made many of the workers’ legs go weak.

They screamed in terror and stumbled backward.

Some even collapsed right onto the ground, their eyes vacant as they stared at the horrific sight,

mumbling incoherently, clearly having been frightened out of their wits.

Just then, as the area was continuously dug up,

a faint weeping sound drifted up from beneath the ground.

The sound was mournful and desolate,

like the lament of a wronged soul from the depths of Hell.

Mixed in with the weeping were suppressed, agonized moans.

It felt as if the Samurai’s digging was inflicting a terrible wound upon the land,

and it was now struggling and wailing in pain.

Even the battle-hardened Samurai, known for his dauntless courage,

flinched at the sudden cry, nearly dropping his shovel.

He couldn’t help but stop and look up, his eyes filled with a trace of terror and confusion,

as he gazed at Goto Taiji, who stood above the pit.

Goto Taiji’s expression grew darker. A look of grim determination flashed in his eyes.

He waved his hand again, sharply.

Immediately, several more Samurai and Ninja leaped down into the pit without hesitation.

The dim, yellow lights trembled in the night wind,

stretching the shadows on the construction site into bizarre shapes, as if countless hidden evils were spying from the darkness.

The digging Samurai tensed.

He keenly caught the order in Goto Taiji’s eyes—to keep digging deeper.

His comrades, meanwhile, would stand guard around him, ready to provide support at a moment’s notice.

The Samurai took a deep breath, his chest swelling like a tiger about to pounce.

His muscles tightened like steel, every fiber brimming with explosive power.

He once again raised the heavy shovel high,

and swung it fiercely into the blood-red soil that emanated a bizarre aura.

For a moment, an invisible pressure enveloped the entire site.

The only sounds were the dull thud of the shovel slicing into the earth, interwoven with the Samurai’s heavy breathing,

like a countdown to death.

Suddenly, without any warning,

the blood-red soil on the ground, as if enraged by some malevolent force,

violently erupted with a deafening roar.

In an instant, a mixture of dirt and blood, carrying a pungent odor,

sprayed wildly in all directions like a bomb detonating in their midst.

The other Samurai and Ninja lived up to their reputation as rigorously trained elites.

Their reactions were incredibly fast.

The instant the soil exploded, they relied on their sharp instincts and superb skills,

leaping back with the speed of black lightning,

instantly putting a safe distance between themselves and the center of the blast.

Their figures flickered rapidly in the night,

as nimble and agile as phantoms melting into the darkness.

However,

the Samurai who had been completely focused on digging had just raised his shovel high at that critical moment.

His body was fully extended,

leaving him no time to dodge.

The instant the blood-red soil rained down on him,

he was completely engulfed, as if sucked into a nightmarish crimson vortex.

The moment the blood-red soil touched his body,

it immediately triggered a violent chemical reaction, like sulfuric acid splashed on metal.

Thick clouds of acrid white smoke billowed from his body, instantly shrouding him,

as if his body was being seared and melted by a malevolent flame from Hell.

The Samurai could no longer hold his shovel; it fell to the ground with a loud CLANG.

In the silent, terrifying atmosphere, the sound was exceptionally jarring.

The Samurai’s eyes widened in terror, filled with despair and agony.

He instinctively began to claw desperately at the blood-red soil splattered on him.

But the bizarre soil seemed to have a malevolent life and stickiness of its own.

Once it touched human skin, it clung on tight, as if taking root, impossible to scrape off in the slightest.

Every attempt was like tearing at his own flesh and blood,

inflicting an excruciating, bone-deep pain that made him let out a series of piercing screams.

The Samurai’s screams shattered the silence of the night,

echoing over the construction site, chilling all who heard them to the bone.

He thrashed and rolled wildly on the ground, his body twitching and contorting nonstop,

trying to alleviate the pain that washed over him like a tide.

As the blood-red soil continued to corrode and invade his body,

his clothes were the first to be swiftly eaten away, turning into wisps of black ash that scattered in the air,

as if they had never existed at all.