Black Lake Seven

There were not many people in the library; one could even say there were very few.

The third floor was even emptier.

Given the excellent soundproofing between the floors, the gunshots from the lobby below sounded extremely faint by the time they reached this level, and the few locals reading here remained completely oblivious.

And so, without any incident, Gilan found the book on a bookshelf in the corner of the third floor.

The book that the apocalyptic dream had guided him to find.

He pulled it from the shelf, patted the thin layer of dust from its surface, and flipped open the dark brown, leather-bound cover.

The title was clearly printed in large letters on the frontispiece—

Chronicles of Fayelane Town History

Below it was a line of smaller text: A Chronicle of the Town, 1812-1911.

So, it is the history of this town.

Gilan thought to himself and continued to flip through the pages.

He read quickly, merely scanning the text, but through the content in the first half of the tome, he gained a rough understanding of the town's development and its secrets.

"Fayelane" was actually situated on the mountainside of an extinct volcano, which provided the area with abundant coal resources. Furthermore, the volcanic ash from the volcano's ancient eruptions had, over long ages, fostered vast forest environments, allowing the town's "coal industry" and "logging industry" to develop rapidly.

As for the crater of the extinct volcano itself, it had gradually transformed into a lake.

This was the present-day "Black Lake."

The volcano had no name until 1885, during the war twenty years ago, when an army known as the "Expeditionary Exploration Team" arrived. The leader of the force, which consisted of only a few hundred men, was a lieutenant colonel named "Dolomite," who named the volcano after himself.

Following this, the lieutenant colonel ordered his men to build a prisoner-of-war camp on the shores of "Black Lake." However, the army was stationed there for less than two years before everyone died in strange and bizarre ways, and a massive fire razed the site to the ground.

It was only later, when locals ventured into the ruins of the prisoner-of-war camp, that they discovered the secret: the "Expeditionary Exploration Team" had been conducting inhumane human experiments on the prisoners.

Yet, this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

Since then, wandering figures had frequently appeared by the lake, and any local who approached would disappear without a trace, causing the legend of the "Demon of the Lake" to grow increasingly intense.

Swish...

Gilan flipped rapidly through the yellowing pages, suddenly stopping at one.

His gaze sharpened.

"At the end of 1883, a man calling himself a 'Wandering Hermit' arrived in the town of 'Fayelane' and lived in seclusion by Black Lake... It is said that he was a native of the town and was acquainted with many of the older generation of residents. People were amazed by his youthful appearance and believed the facts he presented."

"After this hermit, named 'Rembrandt Eddie,' returned to his hometown, he used his profound knowledge and alchemical methods to cure many of the locals' difficult illnesses, earning their love and devotion."

"However, in the spring of the following year, Rembrandt disappeared without a reason. People believed that this scholar and master, who cared so deeply for his hometown, had merely gone on a short trip and would return soon... It was a pity that he never appeared again."

Gilan continued to read the subsequent content but found no more valuable information.

He took a deep breath and closed the tome.

Does the disappearance of this "hermit" Rembrandt have any connection to the "Expeditionary Exploration Team" that arrived in town a year later?

Gilan frowned slightly.

Could the Prisoner Monster I encountered before leaving the movie have been one of the prisoners from that camp back then... Did they undergo some mutation due to an accident and eventually become the "demon" in the mouths of the locals? That is not an impossible scenario.

Just as he was pondering, a subtle sound reached his ears.

It was the rustling of clothing and the shifting of footsteps.

"Heh, so you've come..." Gilan was not surprised. Instead, a fierce glint appeared in his eyes. He drew the short-barreled revolver from his holster, turned, and pulled the trigger on the two figures attempting to close in on him.

Bang! Bang!!

The gunshots were particularly piercing in the silent environment.

Two cultists wearing Reindeer Masks were struck in the chest and fell to the ground instantly.

Gilan looked over and saw that behind these two, eight or nine other cultists of varying heights and builds were brandishing logging axes, surrounding him.

"Sacrifice! Scum! You shall become a part of us!"

"The 'Elixir of Immortality' is about to be refined! Kill him!"

"Drain his blood! Gouge out his heart! We shall all live forever!"

"Hahahaha!!"

The cultists, both men and women, let out twisted, manic shrieks.

With bloodshot eyes, they raised their axes and lunged at Gilan.

The distance between them was already short, so Gilan did not fire again. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward. He leaped, planted his foot against a bookshelf on his right, and with a thud, vaulted gracefully over the heads of several cultists, landing behind them.

"Die!" After landing, Gilan twisted his waist and threw a heavy punch.

His fist cut through the air, striking one of the cultists square in the cheek.

Splat!!

The man's mask and his entire face twisted and deformed before shattering, sending tiny fragments flying in all directions. The force of the punch sent his entire body spinning and lunging forward, where he tumbled and skidded several meters away.

Gilan could clearly feel the surging power within his body. He grinned, and amidst the pool of blood scattered with a few broken teeth, he seized the logging axe that had fallen to the floor.

"Hah!!" He roared wantonly, raising the meter-long axe with both hands and bringing it down squarely upon the other man.

Squelch!!

Gilan's movements were far too swift; the short, stout Cultist he attacked didn't even have time to react before his entire head was split open by the axe, sending blood spraying everywhere.

With a thud, Gilan kicked the fat body aside, taking advantage of the momentum to yank his stuck axe free, and with a streak of crimson, he slashed diagonally toward the next person.

"Die!!"

Squelch!!

"Die for me!!"

Crack!!

Clang-thud!!

Gilan swung the wood-chopping axe with a ferocious expression, treating the Cultists before him like moving pine trees. The four or five closest Cultists died under his brutal hacking within mere seconds, leaving his feet surrounded by severed limbs and headless corpses.

Yet, the remaining Cultists showed no fear; instead, their eyes turned bloodshot as they screamed and lunged at him.

Taking advantage of the moment Gilan killed a companion with his axe, another Cultist swung his own axe down.

"Sacrifice!!" he shrieked fanatically.

"Get lost!!" Gilan released his grip on the axe, swung his fist horizontally, and struck the opponent's arm like a steel rod.

With a sharp snap, the man's forearm broke at a ninety-degree angle, and the axe in his hand clattered to the ground.

Gilan narrowed his eyes and delivered a kick, shattering the attacker's chest and caving it in. Blood seeped from beneath the man's Reindeer Mask as he let out a horrific wheeze, flew backward, twitched a few times, and died on the spot!

With a hiss, Gilan pulled his wood-chopping axe back out of the corpse.

Turning his head, he saw the very last Cultist rushing toward him, shaking his head wildly; both men swung their axes at nearly the same time!

Clang!!

Whoosh—whirrr!

A notch the size of a fingernail was chipped out of the axe blade; it flew out of the man's hand, spinning through the air until it sliced through a bookcase and vanished.

Gilan remained in a half-crouched, bent-over position, his felt hat, messy blonde hair, and fair cheeks covered in bloodstains... Behind him, the Cultist's head spun through the air as several lines of blood sprayed from his neck.

Thump!

The headless corpse hit the floor.

Drenched in blood, Gilan straightened his body once more.

He lifted his head, his eyes already bloodshot from the slaughter.

"Anyone who wants to harm me... deserves to die..."