Enraged

It was late at night.

Bright moonlight shone through the window into the warehouse, like a spotlight on a pitch-black stage.

Gilan reclined against a corner, his head resting on books of assorted heresies. Four or five plaster statues of female "angels" stood on either side of him, wings spread behind their backs, naked and smiling, as though guarding the blond youth in the middle.

One of his legs rested casually atop a gramophone as his indifferent eyes stared at the ceiling.

His mind remained occupied with what had happened during the day.

Momir had told him every secret he had overheard, and Gilan could not help but resent it bitterly.

Although he had long sensed that the gang had brought him back for less than honest reasons, he had not expected Lucas, the Oak Gang's boss, to sell him out so quickly. Nor had he expected the police station to move so fast, even alarming the higher authorities.

Still, Gilan had mentally prepared himself for all that. What frustrated him was that he was running out of time.

Before he could gather more information and intelligence, his enemies had already come knocking.

Unless something unexpected happens, Lucas will send someone to test me tomorrow, perhaps even torture me into handing over that film reel... Heh. We'll see about that.

A cold smile curled across Gilan's lips.

His gaze shifted toward the projector sitting in the center of the warehouse.

The best way to break this deadlock is to find more armed strength in the world of the film... Too bad I still have no clues about the village clerk's residence.

Suddenly, Gilan thought of something.

When he had been driven into a corner in the police station cell, it was the "testing procedure" of the epidemic prevention personnel that had allowed him to come into contact with a strip of the film negative. That had granted him Dream Revelation, allowing him to avoid the first wave of danger in the film and obtain the Double-Barreled Shotgun.

Could I use Dream Revelation again to gain guidance about the Scribe's residence?

After considering it briefly, Gilan felt the idea was worth trying.

He immediately took out the Black Film Reel, held it against his chest, and closed his eyes.

Iridescence, let me dream.

He silently recited the words in his heart, regardless of whether they would actually work.

In the quiet night, moonlight draped over Gilan like a thin blanket.

Who knew how much time passed before his breathing gradually became long and steady. Invisible iridescent colors flickered behind his head, radiating outward and undulating slowly with each breath—like a rainbow halo.

Gilan had a dream.

In the dream, he boarded that old-fashioned train doomed to derail once more. The events that followed were much like what he had experienced during the day, and he met the folklorist Maive and the surgeon Brennan in turn.

Under Gilan's guidance, the two crossed the animal-trap field, avoided the attack of the Tribute Wolf pack, and finally reached the village in the woods.

Yet from that point onward, events took a completely different turn.

Following his instincts, Gilan suggested they split up. That way, the three of them could search the village for clues more efficiently. So they parted ways in the stone-paved square, agreeing to regroup there afterward.

But when Gilan returned after making a circuit of the village, he saw only the young Maive. Doctor Brennan had vanished without explanation.

However, the doctor had left behind a written message in the square, as though he had discovered something.

But the words were blurry in the dream. No matter how hard Gilan tried to make them out, he could not read them clearly.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A burst of pounding suddenly sounded against the iron door.

Gilan's eyes snapped open.

He quickly glanced out the window. The darkness of night had long faded, and it was now the following morning.

Dreaming really works! It seems I need to obtain the message Doctor Brennan left behind if I want to find the Scribe's residence!

Gilan took a deep breath and stood up.

At the same moment, the Black Film Reel in his arms was enveloped in color and vanished without a trace.

He stepped forward and opened the warehouse door a crack.

Randolph's smiling face immediately appeared outside. He held two roasted potatoes and a cup of water, saying as soon as he saw him, "Good morning, Brother Gilan. Here's your simple meal for today."

"Thanks." Gilan accepted the food and casually asked, "Why isn't Momir delivering the food today? Why did you have to come personally, Randolph?"

"Momir..." Randolph's smile gradually faded at the question, and his expression turned ugly. With a sigh, he said, "Sigh... He... he's dead."

Gilan froze.

Momir was dead?!

He had not had much affection for the childish seventeen-year-old, but he had to admit that the boy had regarded him as a true friend. He was also the only person who had cared about him since he came to this world, even daring to secretly inform on the gang at the risk of his own life.

And now, he was dead.

"How did he die?" Gilan asked expressionlessly. "Do you know, Randolph?"

"Little Momi was selling liquor on Black Barrel Street last night when he was spotted by patrolling Prohibition Agents. He tried to run, but he didn't make it. Those damned Bobbies accidentally shot him dead, then took his body away and burned it."

Randolph spoke indignantly.

Shot dead by police in the street... Heh.

Gilan sneered inwardly.

Momir had informed on them yesterday, then died in the street today. If anyone claimed that was a coincidence, Gilan would never believe it.

"What time did he go there?" Gilan asked casually.

"Past ten, I think. I don't remember clearly, but it was already very late by then. Who would've thought those Bobbies would still be patrolling?" Randolph answered offhandedly, not knowing why Gilan was asking.

He shook his head with a mournful expression and offered a few words of consolation.

Soon, he seemed to remember something and asked, "Oh, right. The boss told me to ask you this morning whether you saw a black movie reel at the police station."

Randolph had already questioned the two brothers guarding Fortune Well. When they checked Gilan's handbag yesterday, they had not found any film reel inside.

So he was certain that Gilan had hidden it somewhere else.

"A film reel?" Gilan put on an absent-minded look and shook his head blankly. "Didn't notice one."

"Is that so... Well, all right." Randolph's eyes remained fixed on Gilan's face. Hearing that answer, he smiled as though it did not matter. "If you remember anything, make sure you tell me right away."

He leaned closer and whispered, "The boss said those Bobbies seem to care a lot about that thing. But now it's missing. Heh, if we can find it, we can squeeze Chief Hashem for a fortune. That'll count as avenging Little Momi too!"

Gilan nodded.

Randolph patted his shoulder before finally turning and leaving.

As he watched the long-haired, burly man's retreating back, Gilan's eyes turned icy.

He could now confirm that Momir's death had been arranged by Lucas, the Oak Gang's boss.

According to the information Momir had revealed, Gilan knew that Lucas had used him as a bargaining chip to strike a dirty deal with Chief Hashem. There would be no patrol officers from seven to nine each night that week.

Yet Lucas had deliberately sent Momir out to sell illegal liquor at ten, intending to get him killed.

Gilan could even imagine it: weak and immature Momir knew full well that he faced an enormous risk of being caught, yet he could only force himself to obey his boss's orders. Uneasily, he stepped into the black night along a road of no return, only to die in pain, terror, and helplessness.

It would have been far too easy for Lucas to kill Momir. He only needed to send someone to deliberately leak the information, and the kid would have had nowhere to run... Perhaps Lucas had noticed something and wanted to silence him, or perhaps he simply wanted to use Momir's death to provoke Gilan into revealing the film reel's whereabouts.

Either way, it was ruthless beyond measure.

Bang!

The warehouse door slammed shut, and Gilan locked it from the inside.

Without a word, he walked to the projector, took out the Silver Cube and the Black Film Reel, made a few adjustments, then sat cross-legged on the floor and flicked the switch.

Click.

The shuttle began to turn, and a beam of light fell upon the wall.

You deceived me, framed me, and killed Momir to provoke me... Fine. Fine!

Gilan's face twisted viciously as his eyes locked onto the film.

All of you—deserve to die!