Chapter134 She Was Buried
Clifton's scrolling finger froze abruptly.
If he remembered correctly, Miranda had left two days ago for this very city to inspect a mining site.
His heart clenched violently.
Clifton quickly clicked on the news article.
The accompanying photo showed a distant shot of the scene—dust clouds everywhere, total devastation.
"Crack."
A sharp sound rang out.
The phone in Clifton's hand nearly shattered from his grip.
The team members around him, who had been enthusiastically discussing where to eat, instantly sensed the sudden drop in atmospheric pressure.
Everyone fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.
"B-Boss?"
A team member called out cautiously. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Clifton slowly lifted his head.
"Cancel dinner."
"Everyone assemble. Bring rescue equipment. We're moving out!"
The roar of engines shattered the deadly silence over the mining area as several modified off-road vehicles screeched to a halt at the edge of the ruins.
The moment the door opened, Clifton jumped out.
He wore a black tactical combat suit that whipped in the wind, his boots crunching against the gravel with a heart-stopping sound.
"Who goes there! This is a restricted zone!"
The local rescue team leader rushed over with his flashlight, but before he could see who it was, several fully armed team members blocked his path.
Clifton ignored the commotion around him, strode directly to the leader, pulled out his credentials, and spoke.
"Status report."
Just two words, but they carried immense authority.
The leader was momentarily stunned by the commanding presence, stammering, "The collapse... it happened six hours ago, approximately thirty meters deep. But our equipment can barely detect what's below, and we're worried about a secondary collapse..."
"Six hours." Clifton repeated the timeframe, red veins instantly flooding his eyes.
Six hours was enough for someone to suffocate to death in an oxygen-deprived underground space.
Clifton immediately turned to his team members, speaking rapidly: "All personnel, listen up. Switch to rescue gear."
He grabbed protective clothing from a nearby team member and put it on with practiced efficiency. "Team One, follow me down. Team Two, monitor the perimeter. Move!"
"Yes, sir!"
In the mining site's makeshift office, the lights were dim and yellow.
Harrison slumped in his chair, his expensive custom shirt so dirty its original color was unrecognizable, covered in dust.
His eyes stared vacantly at the pitch-black darkness outside the window.
Allen pushed the door open, carrying a cup of warm water.
"Drink something, Harrison."
Allen walked over and pressed the cup into Harrison's cold hands. "Don't worry. The rescue team is doing everything they can."
Harrison mechanically accepted the cup and drained it in one gulp.
The warm liquid slid down his parched throat, but it didn't make him feel any better. Instead, the emotion called regret churned violently in his stomach.
If he hadn't tried to use this partnership to win Miranda back, if he hadn't had Allen delay things, if he hadn't...
"I killed her..."
Harrison muttered, suddenly trying to stand. "No, I have to go back to the site. I can't just sit here."
"Are you insane?"
Allen grabbed his shoulder with surprising strength. "What good would you do there? Can you operate life detection equipment? Can you dig? All you'd do is get in the rescue team's way!"
Harrison's body swayed, unable to argue.
Allen sighed, his tone softening. "Listen to me. You need to rest now. Think about it—when Miranda is rescued, she'll be injured, maybe even need intensive care for a long time. All those procedures, all those expenses, you'll need to handle them."
"If you collapse from exhaustion over this so-called 'guilt,' who's going to take care of her when she's rescued?"
That struck Harrison's weak spot.
He stared at Allen blankly for a long moment before slumping back into his chair in defeat.
Seeing this, Allen offered comfort: "You rest now. I'll go check on things. If there's any progress, I'll come tell you."
Thirty meters underground, in deathly silence.
In the cramped triangular space, the air was so thin that each breath felt like swallowing razor blades.
Miranda curled into a tiny ball, trying to minimize contact between her body and the surrounding rock walls.
She didn't feel hungry—that small package of compressed crackers had given her some energy—but the increasingly intense suffocation was slowly consuming her consciousness.
"Crack..."
Another faint sound came from above.
Several pieces of debris tumbled down, striking her shoulder painfully.
The space where she could barely turn over had now been compressed to half its size. That massive boulder hung overhead like a sword of Damocles, ready to fall at any moment and crush her to pulp.
Miranda felt her mind growing increasingly foggy, as if someone had stuffed it with paste.
She laboriously raised her hand and fumbled for her phone, pressing the screen to life.
The weak glow became the only light source in this absolutely dark space.
Still no signal.
The red battery indicator showed only 5% remaining.
Miranda's fingers felt stiff. On impulse, she opened WeChat, scrolling past her brother, past her mother, finally stopping on a profile with a black avatar.
Clifton.
Their chat history stopped at a message from the day before.
It was a screenshot of food.
[I found a restaurant with really unique dishes on this business trip. When you have time, I'll take you there.]
His reply had been brief: [Okay.]
Miranda stared at that simple "okay," her nose suddenly stinging.
Only now, with death truly approaching, did she realize that the person she couldn't let go of most was that man who always wore a cold expression but would shield her at the first sign of danger.
Without realizing it, he had come to occupy such an important place in her heart.
"Plop."
A scalding tear fell without warning onto the phone screen, spreading into a small wet spot.
Miranda sniffled, fighting the dizziness before her eyes as her trembling fingers typed in the text box.
Each word came with such difficulty.
[Clifton, I'm sorry. I might have to break our dinner date.]
The message remained stuck in a sending loop.
Miranda's fingers paused, then continued tapping on the screen.
[Actually, I kind of like...]
Before she could finish typing "you," the phone screen flickered twice and went completely black.
Dead battery.
The last bit of light vanished.
Endless darkness instantly swallowed her whole.
Miranda's hand fell limply, the phone sliding from her palm and landing in the dust-covered ground.
So tired.
Really so tired.
She slowly closed her eyes, her consciousness gradually sinking into the abyss.