Black Lake

Click.

As the projector began to whir, the room's lights extinguished in tandem.

The reels spun, and a beam of light projected from the lamp housing onto the screen, slowly revealing an aerial view of a small town.

The lens pushed forward, settling on a corner.

A public carriage, large enough to seat sixteen, approached from the distance, rolling slowly along a path flanked by dense woods on both sides...

The five people seated stared intently at the cinematic image on the screen.

In the dark screening room, flickering light played across their faces. Almost simultaneously, they all wore expressions of trance.

Whoosh—

A breeze brushed against their faces, and the sound of rhythmic hoofbeats and rolling wheels filled their ears.

After a moment of disorientation, Gilan found himself sitting on the iron-plated bench of a public carriage.

The sky was gray and gloomy, the seat hard and cold.

Mr. Stork and Mr. Oystercatcher sat beside him, while three ladies sat opposite.

Miss Sparrow, Miss Seagull, and a young woman with a light brown braid; this stranger wore a pale yellow afternoon dress and a cloche hat.

She was the protagonist of "Black Lake," Fema Castro.

The five members of the Record Society exchanged glances, nodding in silent agreement.

"Thank you all so much for being willing to accompany me on this long journey to 'Fayelane' to find my parents."

At this moment, Fema smiled and spoke to the group.

"They just left a note about a business trip and then vanished. Three months have passed, and even the police haven't found a single clue... I'm so worried about them. Heavens, I truly hope they are safe and sound."

Fema's expression clouded with sorrow; she clasped her hands together and prayed softly.

Miss Seagull, noticing she was a believer in the Dawn Era, placed a hand on her shoulder and comforted her in a low voice:

"Omer will watch over your parents, Fema."

"Thank you. You are all my best friends."

Fema smiled gratefully.

The carriage continued along the road, the silhouette of the town already visible in the distance. Fema took several bottles of soda from her backpack and handed them to the group.

"Please, have something to drink. My parents brought these home for me last time."

"Thank you."

The group accepted the palm-sized glass bottles and thanked Fema.

Gilan examined the yellow label on the soda, which read "Sweet Apple Juice Soda," produced by the "Bright Moon Beverage Company, Fayelane Town."

He wasn't thirsty, so he set the soda aside.

Mr. Oystercatcher and Mr. Stork were clearly not interested in fruit soda, reacting much like him, while Miss Seagull chatted with Fema, attempting to glean useful information from her.

"This is delicious!" Miss Sparrow popped the cap, took a sip, and her eyes lit up.

The others couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Soon, the public carriage stopped in front of a wooden building named "Black Lake Inn." Fema paid the old driver, and the group climbed down the stairs behind the iron bench.

The first floor of the inn was a bar. As they entered, they immediately spotted the square-shaped bar counter in the center of the hall. Several young bartenders stood inside, and seven or eight locals sat outside, chatting and drinking.

Perhaps because the group's arrival was quite noticeable, almost everyone in the bar turned to look as they pushed the door open, many of the patrons wearing expressions of annoyance.

"Another bunch of fools, daring to come here after so many accidents... I don't know what there is to see in 'Fayelane.' Aside from mountains and trees, you'll either end up covered in coal dust and go home looking like a mess, or you'll be stubborn enough to break into the restricted zone and go missing!"

A white-haired old man with a handlebar mustache and a bulbous nose sneered.

The middle-aged man beside him quickly nudged the old man with his elbow, lowering his voice:

"Are you crazy, Old Toto? Be careful, or the tourism bureau will give you trouble. Don't ruin their business."

"Hah! My ancestors have lived here for generations; why would I be afraid of that bunch of outsiders from the tourism bureau!"

Old Toto took a swig of rum and scoffed.

The members of the society exchanged glances without speaking, but Fema walked toward the bar to discuss lodging with a bartender.

"Let's proceed according to the plan and gather information here first," Mr. Stork said in a low voice, leaning on his cane.

"Understood." The others nodded in agreement.

Mr. Oystercatcher took the lead, sitting directly at the bar to order a drink, taking the opportunity to chat with the patrons in an attempt to extract useful information... especially from that Old Toto, who seemed to know something.

Of course, he also genuinely wanted a drink.

After all, with the strict "Prohibition" in reality, Mr. Oystercatcher hadn't had a proper drink in a long time.

Gilan stepped across the wooden floor, strolling slowly through the first-floor bar, his gaze quickly drawn to a poster on the wall.

It was an advertisement for the "Forest National Park" in the north of the town, depicting various wild animals with a handsome, blonde man in a sheriff's uniform standing at the front, holding a long-barreled revolver and smiling.

Below is some written information regarding the forest park.

The general gist is that the local tourism bureau defied public opinion to develop the primeval forest north of the town, designating that area as a tourist attraction.

It is inhabited by many wild animals such as reindeer, wolves, and brown bears; they even discovered the remains of a mammoth said to be over fourteen thousand years old, which is now on display in the entrance hall of the forest park.

In addition to this, there is an extra paid service called "Safe Escort."

One can pay a certain fee to the local police department to hire excellent security personnel to enter the forest park together; they serve as both guides and bodyguards, capable of protecting tourists from being attacked by wild animals.

"Fima has already booked the rooms. Let's head upstairs first to discuss our next move."

At this moment, Mr. Stork came to Gilan's side and offered a reminder.

"Alright." Gilan withdrew his gaze from the poster and immediately followed the main group upstairs.

A short while later.

The five members of the gathering converged in Mr. Stork's room.

"The main storyline of 'Black Lake' should be to help Fima find the whereabouts of her parents. In the end, we might be able to obtain the data her parents acquired through their archaeological work. It should contain the secrets of this town, and perhaps even the mysterious knowledge we are looking for."

Mr. Stork analyzed.

He glanced at the wall clock, pondered for a moment, and then added:

"It is nine o'clock in the morning now. According to the plot development, by the afternoon, Fima will propose going to the forest park to search for traces of her parents... We were attacked by 'Lake God Cult' cultists in the forest last time, so we need to take precautions in advance this time."

"According to Mr. Snowy Owl's intelligence, we might be able to hire people from the police department. They are all armed, which could increase our safety."

Miss Sparrow glanced at Gilan and suggested in a low voice.

"Hmm... feasible." Mr. Stork nodded. "However, the currency used here is a 'Dormark' we have never seen before. I will take care of the costs."

Everyone knew very well that Mr. Stork's way of "taking care of it" would likely not be through legal means, but this was just a movie world, and their time was limited, so they would not worry too much about it.

Mr. Stork then looked at the others and began assigning tasks:

"Mr. Oystercatcher and Miss Sparrow, continue looking for new clues. You can start with the legend of the 'Demon of the Lake.' Perhaps Fima's parents really were persecuted by some supernatural power."

"Miss Seagull, I'll have to trouble you to make a trip to the police department. It doesn't matter if you hire more people; I will get enough money."

The three nodded one after another, indicating it was no problem.

"As for Mr. Snowy Owl..."

Mr. Stork looked at the handsome, blonde-haired young man standing to the side, wearing a trench coat and a felt hat.

"Your strength is impressive, and this is our first time working together, so you are free to act on your own... It doesn't matter if you find any clues; it's just to let you get familiar with the environment."

"Alright, I understand." Gilan smiled.