"What's wrong?"
Herman and Eugene looked at Kirk in astonishment as he looked sad.
Kirk told the two heads of the family about the sarcasm he had just heard and suggested,
"How about we fire those racist guys?"
Herman frowned after hearing this.
"If you do that, they'll have something to hold against us and we'll become racists."
Eugene nodded in confirmation.
"You are right. Doing this is only a temporary solution. If it falls into the hands of someone with ulterior motives, it will not only be a handle, but it will also be used to make a big fuss.
The brand image we worked so hard to build collapsed.”
Kirk put his hands on his hips, pointed at Herman and said,
"I don't care, I don't want to have such people in our family business anyway.
Ideas spread. Now most employees remember our good points, but that doesn’t mean it will be the same in the future.”
Herman couldn't help but hold his forehead after hearing this. Kirk's words certainly made sense, and Herman also understood why she said that.
"How about this, Kirk, you go back today, I'll discuss with my brother how to deal with this, okay?"
Kirk was not the kind of person who would stick to his guns and argue, so he just gave Herman a cold look and went back.
Hermann puffed on his pipe anxiously, glanced at Eugene,
"What do you think we should do?"
Eugene spread his hands helplessly.
"How can we solve a problem that has not been solved for so many years?"
"How about we hold a staff meeting first? We won't criticize them by name, but we can condemn them."
Hermann suggested, having a sudden inspiration.
"That's a good idea. Come on, let's draft out what to say."
——
Climbing up from the ice field, the two extreme temperatures created a strange disparity.
At the foot of Katla volcano, the glacier is covered with cold fog due to the perennial snow, but people start to sweat when they reach the mountainside.
There were only two people going up the mountain at this time, Jobtran and Mouse. The fat director had no equipment, so he stayed at the foot of the mountain as a support in case of any accidents.
"Lord Jobtran, you need to wear protective gear if you go any further."
The mouse wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief and stopped leading the way.
"How long until we reach the black ice cave we are heading to?"
asked Joe Butran.
He glanced at the dark sky. The volcano was emitting thick black smoke, and it seemed that even the air was filled with the smell of sulfur.
“Go up another 300 meters and you’ll reach the black ice cave.
Before exploring the black ice cave, you have to put on another set of equipment. "
The mouse explained patiently, then casually shook the bag in his hand.
"And at the critical moment, these treasures may be needed."
"...Won't the black powder explode if you shake it like this?"
Jobtran rolled his eyes at the mouse and said unhappily.
"Hey, I removed all the fuses before I came here, so it doesn't matter how you shake it now."
The mouse smiled smugly.
"Please connect it, just in case of any accidents."
Jobtran looked up with a serious expression. The black ice cave, which the Icelandic people called the 'Devil's Throat', was on the slope not far from the ridge.
The lower ground is covered with a thin layer of ice, and snow boots alone are not enough to climb up. One must rely on crampons and ropes left by predecessors to climb up steadily.
Looking down from halfway up the mountain, you will find that you seem to be far away from the world where humans live. There is no other scenery except the white snow.
Jobtran began to doubt whether the legendary village actually existed.
The sun was hanging lower and lower in the sky, and the daylight hours were limited. The two had to complete this adventure before the sun set, otherwise it would be a very unwise choice to camp in the temperature of nearly minus 20 degrees Celsius at night.
The mountains of Katla volcano are winding, and on the mysterious island of Iceland, Katla volcano is even more mysterious.
The peak spewing black smoke stood gloomily in the shadows. The sunlight filtered through the black smoke and cast a pale red glow on the white ice surface, like blood, but not blood.
The strong wind blowing from the north swept across the desolate and uninhabited ridges intermittently. There seemed to be the screams of the witch Katla in the biting wind, which made the mouse feel anxious, but Jobtran's presence reassured him.
The two walked and stopped, and the higher they went, the more the wind posed an obstacle to their progress.
The mouse found a rock wall that was sheltered from the wind, and the two of them built a fire there and rested for a while.
Jobtran was roasting by the fire in silence. The mouse looked at Jobtran's face and found that he seemed to be worried about something.
"My Lord, what are you thinking about?"
the mouse asked with concern.
"coincide."
Jobtran recalled the paintings that had been burned in the captain's cabin on the Cyclopes.
The same gloom, the same depression, except that the vague but magnificent city has not been found yet, Katla volcano seems to meet all the key points.
The place where white, red and black are intertwined in the eternal silence is as real as a dream, but it has a terrifying and depressing atmosphere.
“Is this what you wished me to explore, Nyarlathotep?”
Jobtran whispered to himself.
When the mouse inadvertently heard the name Nyarlathotep, he felt a chill in his heart and tightened his warm clothes made of thick fur with his hands.
The two fell into an awkward silence. Mouse stretched out his gloved hand and gently brushed away the snow on the ground, revealing the rock layer underneath.
"Huh?"
"What's wrong?"
"Master Joe Butran, come and take a look."
The mouse first stood up, took out a brush from its backpack, then carefully lay on the ground, and gently swept it with the brush, as if repairing a precious archaeological item.
Seeing the mouse's solemn expression, Jobtran walked up to the mouse, squatted down and observed it carefully.
"We are at Katla, right?"
The mouse muttered to himself.
Joe Butron rolled his eyes.
“Are you the tour guide or am I the tour guide?”
"Lord Jot Brown, do you know anything about the surface structure of volcanoes?"
The mouse said seriously with a straight face.
“I know a little bit.
The surface structure should be basalt, tuff, agglomerate and breccia. Since a volcanic eruption will cause a large amount of pyroclastic outflow, the type of rock will be determined by the activity of the volcano.
What's wrong? Did you find anything?"
Joet-Brown recalled the material he had memorized in order to disguise himself as an exchange student in archaeology, and told everything he knew.
The mouse nodded excitedly after hearing this.
"You are right, but the rock under our feet is not any of the types of rocks you mentioned. It is not andesite or rhyolite that is contained in magma.
See those stripes
I have reason to believe that the land beneath our feet is the most historically valuable discovery in human geology!
This should be a complete piece of graphite.”
Jobtran frowned, took out the knife he carried with him and scratched the ground.
Sizzle!
After one cut, the rock on the ground did not move at all, but the knife in Joet Brown's hand broke into a chip.
“Graphite doesn’t have such hardness, right
Only minerals like corundum or diamond can break synthetic corundum with a hardness of six."
The mouse's eyes became hot, and he gently touched the ground, feeling a little excited and a little confused.
“Ordinary graphite certainly doesn’t have this kind of strength, but this is different.
Look at the opaque, greasy texture, the dark color, and the dust stuck to my gloves.
Such treasures have been hidden in plain sight until now, obscured by heavy snow and fear of volcanoes.
I believe this material can disrupt the existing manufacturing market and become popular in people’s lives.”
①
After hearing this, Joe Butran's heart trembled.
"Do you think this is a naturally formed material?"
The mouse looked up, speechless for a moment.
"Maybe..."
Joe Butran shook his head, walked to the rock wall and waved his hand.
The snow on the rock wall fell to the ground, revealing the true appearance behind it.
"Even this entire piece is made of the same material. Do you still naively think that this is naturally formed?"
Jobtran couldn't bear to dampen the mouse's excitement, but the truth at this moment was so cruel that he couldn't bear to ignore it.
"With the magic of nature, what is impossible?"
The mouse walked stupidly to the rock wall and reached out to touch it gently.
Even through the gloves, he could still feel the coldness coming from the graphite layer.
Jobtran sighed.
"Then can you explain how this came about?"
On the rock wall there is a five-pointed star pattern surrounded by eight tentacles, and the eight tentacles are connected to form a circle.
The ends of the tentacles extend in different directions, just like the Bagua that oriental alchemists hold in their hands all year round.
The inner circle of the tentacles has two pairs of ferocious bat wings, and in the center of the pentagram is an open eye.
The strange patterns on the rock wall are so natural that they can be easily overlooked if you don't look closely.
"What's this?!"
The mouse stepped back in surprise, its eyes full of disbelief.
“What does it matter
The key issue is that this pattern could not have appeared out of thin air on the rock wall.
unless..."
"This material is really not naturally occurring, it's artificially made."
The mouse muttered to himself.
“Well, not necessarily people.
So far, human civilization does not have technology advanced enough to develop such materials.
Maybe it will take decades to achieve this?"
Jobtran smiled bitterly, and at this moment Umr's long-lost voice sounded in his mind.
“Seal of the Old God.
A seal to ward off evil presences.
Once used by the Ancient Ones to fight against the Cthulhu invasion."
Joe Butran's smile froze, and then he immediately memorized the mark in front of him deeply in his mind.
The mark that can be used to fight against the Old Ones of Cthulhu's level obviously has a certain effect in warding off evil spirits. Perhaps this mark can be used in the future.
"Come here, mouse."
Jobtran took out a pen from his backpack and drew a mark on the mouse's hand that was exactly the same as the one on the rock wall.
"Maybe at a critical moment, this thing will be more useful than black powder."
Joe Butran said with self-mockery.
"What on earth is this?"
The mouse said doubtfully.
"Just think of it as a protective spell left behind by a prehistoric civilization.
If you are scared, you can stay.
As we agreed at the beginning, you don't have to follow me up and take risks."
After Jobtran drew a mark on his hand, he tidied himself up and prepared to continue climbing.
The mouse did not answer, but put out the campfire, picked up his bag and walked silently ahead.
Jobtran raised his lips, stepped forward and patted Mouse on the shoulder.
"Well done, I'll double your salary."
The mouse turned around and said to Jobtran seriously,
“It doesn’t matter whether you get a salary or not.
When this adventure is over, can you teach me about the mysterious side
I want to know what killed my family."
"It will be even more dangerous if you get involved. Are you sure?"
asked Joe Butran seriously.
"I've been dragged into this by you, do you think I have any way out?"
The mouse put on a rogue look and spread his hands.
"You want to be my disciple? I didn't expect that I'd reach this age."
Jobtran sneered, remembering the days when he trained day and night under Arnold, and the crybaby Tristana who seemed to never grow up.
"You'll see when you live, young man."
The two continued to walk forward in the biting cold wind. At this time, the sun was beginning to set, just like hope was about to sink.
The higher you go up the mountain, the more you can see the depressing black, the black that comes from graphite.
The short distance of 300 meters on flat ground took the two of them more than two hours on this mountain to reach the legendary black ice cave.
Just standing at the entrance of the black ice cave, one can feel the creeping frost, and the sound of the mountain wind blowing through the black ice cave can be heard in one's ears.
Jobtran walked in resolutely.
He stood at the entrance of the cave, holding high the only kerosene lamp that could illuminate the dark ice cave, and carefully examined the ice around him.
The regular outline of the cave entrance made Jobtran a little confused. Ordinary ice caves are usually semi-circular, but the one here is a neat square, as if a natural cave was forcibly shaped into a more regular and symmetrical shape by a magical hand.
There are no stalactites or stalagmites growing in the black ice cave, it is more like a smooth and flat passage that has been polished by humans;
Looking into the cave from the entrance, it's like seeing the extremely complex cave structure inside.
These complex structures seem to form a three-dimensional building similar to a honeycomb.
Just as Mouse had said before, the surface of the ice here was covered with thick volcanic ash, which caused the color reflected by the ice to be a deep black.
I don’t know if it was the yellow light of the kerosene lamp that caused the reflection on the ice, but there were some light green spots in the ice under my feet, which looked like some talc.
The cracks and holes formed by weathering in the surrounding ice seemed to form some unusual regular shapes.
The gentle breeze will be spread by the malice in the black ice cave, evoking human fear of the ancient myths in the forbidden books, causing people to have disgust and terrifying associations in their hearts.
Everything here is full of abnormality, like the devil's open mouth, waiting for the two to be swallowed by endless darkness.
This is a soul-devouring maze.