Chapter 030: Got His Eye On

Yes, Wang Bo succeeded.

He had succeeded in disturbing the slumber of the undead, summoning them to the mortal world, and controlling them, turning this horde of spirits into his own warriors.

When the living people of Hamunaptra saw this scene—the vast expanse of spirits filling the sky—their faces, like Evelyn's, turned deathly pale.

Even O'Connell, who considered himself bold as brass, was filled with fear at the sight of these spirits.

Especially when he saw among this group of undead many familiar figures.

There were some people whose names he could even call out.

“André, Mousse, Lucerne, Lac...”

These were all his comrades-in-arms.

Three years ago, they had found Hamunaptra together, but all were buried there. Except for him and Benny, who escaped the disaster, everyone else died.

O'Connell never expected that today he would see the spirits of his comrades who had died three years ago.

But this group of spirits did not notice O'Connell.

After all, they were merely a group of spirits, having lost who knows how many of their memories from life, so of course they could not recognize O'Conner.

"Retreat, retreat!"

The appearance of the undead made the descendants of the Pharaoh's Guard feel uneasy. A man with a tattoo on his face roared with all his might, for he knew well that if this horde of undead charged at them all at once, their group would likely be completely annihilated.

So at this moment, the only option was to retreat.

Although he had never heard the saying 'Where there is life, there is hope,' he harbored a similar thought.

So, the descendants of the guard began to retreat one after another.

Wang Bo did not command the undead to wipe out the guard unit completely; he did not even order the undead to kill anyone.

After all, they were tomb raiders—using the treasures left by the tomb owner to kill the tomb owner's descendants was far too vicious an act for Wang Bo to bring himself to do.

Since the other side was willing to retreat, Wang Bo naturally would not press them to the death.

However, if the other side refused to retreat even at the cost of death, then Wang Bo would have no recourse, for he too did not wish to die. Fortunately, the other party was a sensible fellow who, seeing that the situation was hopeless, immediately withdrew.

Wang Bo, seeing that the descendants of the guard had escaped from Hamunaptra, held the Book of the Dead and lifted the spell.

A gust of eerie wind blew over, and one by one the undead burrowed into the ground and vanished.

The originally terrifying army of the dead seemed as if it had never appeared at all. That chilling aura gradually shifted from thick to thin, and within a few minutes vanished without a trace.

At this moment, a few Americans walked over, each still shaken, their faces full of disbelief. "What just happened? I thought I saw so many troops?"

"Were those the dead?"

"This place is really eerie."

"Who exactly attacked us, O'Connell."

O'Connor, seeing his once-dead companion, felt a bit down and casually said, "They are the descendants of the Pharaoh's Guard." Then he plopped down on a rock and stared blankly into space.

The several Americans looked at each other, at a loss for what to do.

Laura emerged from behind the stone pillar, still holding a gun, and looked around cautiously. After confirming that the enemies had indeed left, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Jonathan limped back, saying loudly, "Guys, what just happened? I think I saw a whole lot of ghosts!"

When he was running away just now, he accidentally fell and his right knee hurt a little.

Evelyn said, "Those were the undead summoned by Wang Bo. It was he who scared off the enemy and saved us."

Jonathan couldn't help but say gratefully, "I'm so grateful to you. You saved my life."

"You're welcome."

Wang Bo held the Book of the Dead in his hand and waved; the heavy tome was no heavier than a rag in his grasp.

Dr. Dennis had just walked over and overheard this conversation, unable to help exclaiming, "My God, the legend is true—the Book of the Dead really does possess the power to bring the dead back to life."

Several Americans heard this and couldn't help but exchange glances.

If it had been before the enemy attack, they would not have believed that magic existed in this world. But now, having seen it with their own eyes, they had no choice but to believe in the truth of this matter.

"That book, can it really bring the dead back to life?" a tall American asked.

Professor Dennis nodded. "So the legend goes."

A trace of greed flickered in the American's eyes. "Easterner, was it you who summoned those spirits just now? Can you bring the dead back to life?"

Wang Bo gave him a cold look, seeing through the little schemes in his heart.

The American continued, "Perfect timing — quite a few of our people have been killed. Why don't you bring them back to life?"

Wang Bo said without hesitation, "Sorry, I refuse!"

If he resurrected these Egyptians, who were killed here by the descendants of the guard, then Imhotep—the undead who had been dead for thousands of years—would also be resurrected as a result.

When that time comes, the ten plagues will descend, turning the world upside down. How could Wang Bo allow such a thing to happen?

"Don't be so cold, Easterner," said the tall American. "These Egyptians all have wives and children. If they die here, their families will be devastated. If you can bring them back to life, you might save countless families."

Upon hearing this, Wang Bo looked at the American with newfound respect.

Because this guy was very good with words. He didn't threaten, bribe, or show contempt; instead, from a humanitarian perspective, he hoped to save some dead Egyptians and rescue some families.

Although it had a feeling of the cat weeping over the dead mouse—false pity—there was no denying that these words occupied the moral high ground.

No one could say a word against it.

What a pity…

"I've said it before, I refuse." Wang Bo could not possibly cause the deaths of more people for the sake of a few. Once Imhotep was resurrected and the ten plagues descended, heaven only knew how many would die on Egyptian soil.

Not everyone can survive the Ten Plagues.

More importantly, Wang Bo still did not want to die.

He was not cold-hearted, but he was unwilling to risk his own life, especially since these people—sold by the Americans for money—had already set half a foot into the gates of hell when they entered Hamunaptra.

The tall American was somewhat helpless, for he found that Wang Bo was simply impervious to reason.

"Alright, say no more." At that moment, another American walked over, stopped his companion, and dragged him away.

The several Americans took their leave one after another, but judging by their expressions, they did not seem to have given up.

O'Connor stood up and said to Wang Bo, "It looks like you've caught their attention."

"It doesn't matter," Wang Bo said nonchalantly.