Behind the bronze doors stood Rafael and his crew–the same people who had vanished without a trace since the treasure hunt began, as if they had disappeared off the face of the earth. All dozen or so guns were foreign-made weapons, and at least half the faces belonged to foreigners with prominent noses, deep-set eyes, and night vision goggles.

“Don’t you dare move, Andrew, or these men will shoot!” Mosby stepped forward with a sinister grin, eyeing the Desert Eagle in Andrew’s hand.

Andrew casually tossed his Desert Eagle to the ground and chuckled. “Dr. Lake, Mr. Driscoll–what a coincidence running into you here.”

Mosby laughed coldly. “Coincidence? You’re overthinking this, Andrew! Mr. Driscoll and I have been waiting here with our men for quite some time. The tomb treasure lies just below, but unfortunately, you’ll never get to see it.”

Andrew shrugged nonchalantly. “There’s plenty of treasure to go around; I’ll just take a small share. I’m not greedy, so you can have the rest. How about it?”

Mosby was so angry he burst out laughing. “Still trying to negotiate when death is staring you in the face? Andrew, don’t you realize we’re not giving you a single cent of the treasure, and we’re taking your life too?”

Andrew’s expression remained unchanged. “People shouldn’t be too greedy, you know. I was the one who pieced together the treasure map in the first place. Kicking someone when they’re down? That’s not very fair, is it?”

Mosby exploded with rage. “Andrew, you’ve got some nerve lecturing me about fairness! If it weren’t for you, would I have failed so miserably in Blumedale and lost all my reputation? And what about killing my apprentice? How do you plan to settle that blood debt?”

Andrew smiled calmly. “How else can we settle it? When we divvy up the tomb treasure later, I’ll just give you a bigger share of my portion.”

Mosby scoffed. “Are you deaf? I already told you–you won’t get a single penny of the treasure in there.”

Rafael frowned impatiently. “Dr. Lake, why waste time talking? Just shoot him and be done with it.”

Kevin quickly called out, “Wait, Mr. Driscoll, and Dr. Lake - if you’re going to kill someone, don’t drag me into it.”

Rafael looked displeased but still allowed Kevin to move closer to their group. After all, he was the head of the Wright family, and killing him outright might cause problems when they returned to Blumedale.

Chantelle spread her arms wide and said coldly, “I’d like to see which one of you dares to pull that trigger!”

Rafael shouted, “Ms. Garcia, step aside immediately!”

Mosby gritted his teeth. “Ms. Garcia, this is between us and Andrew. Please don’t interfere.”

Chantelle’s face was ice-cold. “I said I absolutely will not stand by and watch you commit murder. Mr. Driscoll and Dr. Lake, don’t forget that finding this place was Andrew’s achievement alone. Don’t you think what you’re doing is heartless and ungrateful?”

Ignoring Chantelle's words, Rafael burst into maniacal laughter. “Heartless and ungrateful? Ms. Garcia, you’re really naive! Money moves people, especially when it’s the tomb of a prince from the Fallen Crimson Dynasty. Forget about Andrew. When faced with treasure like this, I’d kill my own father without hesitation!”

Chantelle was furious but helpless against more than a dozen gun barrels pointed at them.

Andrew suddenly spoke up, “Mr. Driscoll, have you confirmed the tomb owner’s identity? Which prince from the Fallen Crimson Dynasty is it?”

Rafael snorted coldly. “A dead man doesn’t need to know such details. Ms. Garcia, I’m telling you one last time–step aside, or die alongside Andrew!”

Chantelle’s face grew pale. “You bastards! Are you really going to kill us all?”

Mosby’s face was full of hatred. “If I don’t kill him, should I keep him around for Christmas?”