Black Lake Four

A group of nine people followed the gravel path into Forest Park.

Even though it was the time of day when the sun was at its strongest, the sky remained overcast. Coupled with the surrounding clusters of towering pines—longleaf, masson, or red pines reaching thirty to forty meters in height—the sunlight was blocked out, leaving the view cold and dim.

Coo—coo—

The calls of unidentified birds echoed through the woods, accompanied by the occasional rustle of bushes, making everyone's nerves tighten involuntarily.

As they progressed, the original gravel path gradually turned into a common dirt trail, becoming increasingly difficult to traverse, and the group maintained their silence.

At this moment, perhaps to break the inexplicably heavy atmosphere, the accompanying Officer Pierre spoke up with a smile:

"Although many travelers have visited Forest Park before, most don't dare to venture deep, preferring to stay on the outer observation boardwalks to look at the wildlife... You all have plenty of courage to risk going in."

"I want to find my parents." Fima, who had changed into a sweatshirt and pants convenient for trekking, adjusted her backpack and looked up at the handsome man in front. "They are archaeology professors at the University of Michigan. Have you seen them, Officer?"

"Looking for someone?" Pierre was slightly taken aback, then gave a wry smile and shook his head. "We haven't heard of any archaeology professors visiting Forest Park... though, it's possible they came in privately. After all, the park management doesn't report everything to the Public Security Bureau."

"I see. Thank you."

Fima thanked the officer, but her expression was indescribably dejected.

Miss Seagull walked by her side, whispering a few words of comfort. Meanwhile, Mr. Stork used his steel-core cane as a hiking staff, propping himself up as he walked through the mud, and took the opportunity to ask:

"By the way, Mr. Pierre, I heard there is a Black Lake deep in Forest Park. Is it true that a so-called demon haunts that place?"

"Haha, of course not." Pierre and the other two officers laughed. "It's just that some tourists and locals don't listen to warnings and trespass into that area. They either drown after going into the water or are killed by wild animal attacks... Sigh, those locals just use 'demon legends' to explain it, blaming it on outsiders."

"What about the 'Lake God Cult'?" Mr. Oystercatcher, whose body was wrapped in some bandages, did not let it affect his movement. He spoke at the right moment: "I also heard that people have been brutally murdered by cultists deep in the forest."

"None of that is true..." Pierre shook his head.

But before he could finish his sentence—

Whoosh—whiz!

A flying axe shot out from the woods, grazing the officer's arm!

Thwack!

The blood-stained axe embedded itself into a pine tree behind him with a dull thud.

"Damn it!" Pierre cried out in pain, quickly drawing the long-barreled revolver from his waist. "We're under attack by suspects! Everyone, be careful!"

The group quickly drew their weapons, looking around vigilantly.

Officer Pierre checked his bleeding left arm; fortunately, the wound was shallow, though it was still bleeding.

He looked up and couldn't help but freeze.

He saw that the "tour group" he was accompanying had almost all produced pistols, bows, or other weapons, forming a circle with practiced coordination to protect Fima in the center.

This was a tour group?

This was clearly a special operations team!

"Protect Miss Fima." Mr. Stork gripped a Luger in his hand, his face calm. "Nothing can happen to her."

He didn't say more, but everyone understood his meaning.

If the movie's heroine died due to an accident, the progress of the film would likely suffer unpredictable complications; this was a conclusion Mr. Stork had reached based on experience.

Rustle, rustle.

At this moment, over a dozen figures slowly emerged from the pine forest surrounding them.

Judging by their builds, there were both men and women, but without exception, they all wore Reindeer Masks and held short-handled axes or firearms.

"Hehehe... Hahahaha..."

Low laughter erupted from their throats, gradually turning frantic and echoing through the woods.

"The Lake God is eternal, the Elixir of Immortality is achieved!"

These men and women chanted the short phrases with pious tones.

"It's the cultists from the 'Lake God Cult'. Stay sharp."

Mr. Stork reminded them.

As he spoke, a masked man holding an axe had already rushed forward, hacking at Mr. Stork, his exposed, bloodshot eyes filled with intense killing intent.

"I'll kill you first! You talkative old man!" he shrieked.

Clang!

Mr. Stork swung his steel-core cane, easily parrying the axe blade and sending sparks flying.

With a cold face, he spun the cane, creating a whistling sound, and immediately struck the opponent's knee joint. With a snap, he forced the man to his knees.

The cultist had just begun to scream when it was cut short—

Squelch!

Mr. Stork reversed the head of the cane, and the twelve-centimeter-long iron stork beak pierced the man's throat, gouging out a spray of scalding blood.

Bang!

He lifted a foot and kicked the cultist several meters away. The latter flew backward, covered in blood, and after twitching a few times in the mud and rotting leaves, he went still.

Gilan saw this scene clearly.

Mr. Stork is incredibly strong! he thought to himself.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!

At that moment, gunfire erupted from all sides as both parties engaged in a fierce skirmish, trading shots.

The whistling wind of bullets whipped past his ears, sending mud and fallen leaves flying. The members of The Assembly scattered with practiced coordination, each finding cover before raising their weapons to return fire.

Miss Sparrow and Miss Seagull performed brilliantly.

The former drew her bow and notched an arrow with fluid, meticulous movements, every detail exuding an air of elegance. Although her physique meant the draw weight of her compound bow likely didn't exceed fifty pounds, the distance between the two sides was short, and nearly every arrow struck a Cultist in a vital spot.

With the blurred streaks of whistling arrows, one Cultist after another collapsed with a scream.

The latter possessed exceptional marksmanship; her Luger never missed, and every few shots, she would seize an opportunity to shift her cover to avoid being pinned down by concentrated enemy fire—clearly the mark of someone who had undergone professional training.

But just then, Mr. Oystercatcher suddenly saw something, his expression shifting drastically as he roared:

"Watch out behind you!!"

The other members of The Assembly turned their heads, their faces draining of color.

They saw the tall, handsome Sheriff Pierre, along with the two officers accompanying him, pull Reindeer Masks from the satchels at their waists!

They slowly placed the masks over their faces, letting out low, manic laughter:

"What a bunch of fools. Stay here and become living sacrifices!"

"So you were all members of the Lake God Cult..."

A chill ran through the hearts of The Assembly members; they had never expected that the reinforcements they had called for were actually Cultists themselves!

The situation had just become far more dangerous!

Bang! Bang! Bang!!

Three gunshots rang out, perfectly synchronized.

Before Sheriff Pierre could launch his attack, three bloody holes appeared in his chest, and he collapsed to the ground with a scream, never to rise again.

The group was startled, only to see a figure charging toward the remaining two officers.

The hem of a coffee-colored trench coat flared, moving like a ghostly phantom.

"It's Mr. Snowy Owl!" Miss Sparrow exclaimed.

"Leave them to me. Watch out for the enemies in front."

Gilan's calm voice drifted over, instantly bringing a strange sense of relief to the members of The Assembly.