Dreaming

After leaving the attic with Mr. Oystercatcher, Gilan returned to his room.

He shed his clothes, changed into a pair of thin, striped cotton pajamas, and lay silently on the soft, comfortable bed. With his head propped against two pillows, he gazed out the window on his right at the moon.

The serene, silvery moonlight spilled over the table and floor like water, rendering the room in shades of cold, grayish-white.

Faint sounds drifted in from the street outside the apartment: the rhythmic clatter of leather soles against cobblestones, the occasional rumble of carriage wheels, and the hushed chatter of passersby.

As the wind blew, the tung tree outside the window swayed, rustling softly.

It's hard to believe that nearly a week has passed since I transmigrated here.

Gilan sighed inwardly and slowly closed his eyes.

...Iridescence, dream.

A moment later.

Amidst the hazy darkness, he saw a beam of iridescent light descend from the sky. The colorful glow twisted and writhed, coalescing into the crooked characters of an "Apocalypse Dream." Within his blurred vision, the phantom image of a black film reel flickered into existence.

The reel bore a label: Black Lake.

After dinner, Gilan had used the excuse of studying the film to ask Mr. Stork for permission to touch the Black Lake reel, all for this very moment.

He needed to dream to obtain guidance regarding that movie.

Gilan's breathing grew steady as he drifted into slumber.

In the dream, he boarded the spacious, hulking public carriage alone and arrived in Fayelane Town with Fima.

But this time, he did not check into the Black Lake Inn with Fima. Instead, following the pull of his intuition, he walked along the desolate street where the inn stood and headed toward the south side of town.

Along the way, he once again felt the sensation of being watched from the shadows.

The surveillance came from dim alleys, behind residential windows, and even from the pedestrians he brushed past.

Gilan knew that the Lake God Cult had already infiltrated the entire town; their eyes were everywhere.

But since this was merely a dream, he ignored the scrutiny. Unhindered, he passed through the streetscapes and low-lying buildings until he found a three-story square building painted in gray-black near the "Bright Moon Beverage Factory."

That was the "Fayelane Library."

From the indistinct librarian at the entrance, he learned that the library was over a hundred years old, having been built almost as soon as Fayelane Town was founded.

Gilan entered the library. On the top floor, in the corner of the second-to-last bookcase on the right, he found a large, dark-brown leather-bound book. This was the ultimate goal of the dream's guidance.

It seems this book will be the key to unraveling the mystery.

He felt a sudden realization.

Gilan tried to open the book, but it felt as solid as an iron brick; it wouldn't budge.

Just then, he noticed more than a dozen indifferent figures slowly emerging from behind the tall bookcases surrounding him. They walked toward him, brandishing wood-chopping axes. Their faces were hidden behind identical reindeer masks, the hollowed-out eye sockets glowing with a scarlet hue.

The third floor of the library had been surrounded by Cultists of the Lake God Cult without him even realizing it!

Gilan took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

His consciousness felt like a dense fog, collapsing deep within himself amidst a burst of iridescent light until it became a tiny black dot—

Immediately, he snapped his eyes open.

Gray, hazy daylight filtered through the window into his sleepy eyes.

Chirp...

Chirp, chirp, chirp...

A few Alpine Accentors perched on the tree branches and the outer windowsill, chirping crisply.

"It's already the second morning," Gilan murmured in a daze.

He didn't rush to get up, instead staring blankly at the ceiling.

Do I need to find that book on the third floor of the library? I'll have to be careful of those cultists, though. This is the warning the Apocalypse Dream has given me.

Gilan thought to himself.

Well, we shall see. Let me see if you can stop me...

*

*

*

Time passed quietly, and soon it was the second "Movie Day."

The members of the Record Society gathered once again in the storage room on the first floor of the apartment.

After two days of rest, everyone had mostly recovered, save for Miss Seagull, who still suffered from a slight headache. They were prepared for the second viewing.

"Please check your weapons and belongings, everyone. The viewing is about to begin."

Mr. Stork leaned on his Steel-core Cane, his tone grave.

The group voiced their assent, and after verifying their items, they nodded to Mr. Stork one by one.

"Following our previously discussed plan, we will split up after entering the Black Lake movie. Mr. Oystercatcher and Miss Sparrow will form a group to investigate the local Tourism Bureau. Miss Seagull and I will investigate the Public Security Bureau, while Mr. Snowy Owl will act alone to scout for clues at the library."

This was the plan Gilan had devised after consulting with Mr. Stork.

Mr. Stork spoke as he walked over to the projector and raised his hand.

"We shall meet again at the Black Lake Inn at high noon, just like in the movie."

He flipped the switch, and with a sharp click, the reel began to spin.

Hiss...

The light from the lamp box hit the screen, and everyone looked up, watching with rapt attention.

After a moment of disorientation, they found themselves sitting on a moving carriage once again.

"Thank you all so much for being willing to travel so far with me to 'Fayelane' to find my parents."

Fima, the female lead, delivered her line just as she always did.

Afterward, she once again took the sparkling water from her bag and offered it to the group.

But this time, Miss Sparrow did not open hers; instead, she offered her companions an apologetic smile and quietly set the small glass bottle aside.

The carriage pulled up to the Black Lake Inn. After disembarking, the group told Fima they wanted to look around, so they did not follow her inside. Instead, they parted ways on the spot, splitting into three groups and heading in different directions.

After bidding his companions farewell, Gilan walked down the street alone.

That feeling of being watched had followed him like a shadow ever since he stepped off the carriage.

Yet, he showed no signs of anything unusual on the surface, merely quickening his pace.

Drawing on his experience from the apocalyptic dream, Gilan took no detours. After about ten minutes of walking, he navigated straight through the streets and alleys, eventually arriving at his destination: the Fayelane Library.

He stepped onto the concrete stairs and walked through the library's main entrance.

To the right of the lobby entrance, an old man with white hair and cloudy eyes sat behind the front desk. He shifted his gaze from the adult magazine in his hands and stared up at Gilan.

He appeared to be the librarian.

"An out-of-towner? If you wish to read any books, you must apply for a temporary library card. The fee is 2 Dormark."

Naturally, Gilan had no local currency on him.

He flashed the old man a smile.

"Hmph! If you don't have the money, then get lost! Every book in here is a precious artifact. You rude, ill-mannered outsiders have no idea how many good books you've ruined by getting them dirty or damaging them!"

The white-haired old man sneered, revealing a mouth full of jagged, yellow teeth.

BANG!!

The old man suddenly shuddered, his expression freezing stiff like a photograph.

A bloody hole erupted in the center of his forehead. The force of the impact shoved his head backward, and his entire body toppled to the floor.

The chair and his body hit the ground with a loud crash, and blood mixed with brain matter began to pool across the smooth floor.

Gilan blew on the muzzle of his short-barreled revolver with a cold face, the blue smoke dissipating into the air.

"You old piece of trash, trying to sabotage me?"

He stepped around the front desk, leaned down to touch the corpse, and then headed toward the stairs without looking back.

The old man's body began to decay rapidly, soon dissolving into drifting dust.

Gilan had long suspected that the old man was a member of the Lake God Cult. If he had gone upstairs, this man would have immediately tipped off the others, and the Cultists would have come swarming.

"Well, it only buys a little time, but it's enough."

Gilan murmured to himself as he headed upstairs, revolver in hand.

"Once I finish reading that book, I'll deal with you lot at my leisure."