Black Lake

Gilan had expended quite a bit of energy after a bout of fighting with the Prisoner Monsters.

He leaned against a pine tree to rest for a moment before standing back up to continue deeper into the forest.

While on the move, Gilan checked the remaining ammunition for his snub-nosed revolver.

His two full speed-loaders were spent, leaving only the three 9mm rounds inside the cylinder.

If I encounter combat again, I'll have to use the weapons stored in my dimensional space.

Gilan thought to himself as he holstered the revolver.

Rustle...

Rustle...

Just then, a faint disturbance came from the woods ahead, accompanied by slow, heavy footsteps.

Gilan stopped, concealed his figure behind a pine tree to one side, and peeked out.

He saw four or five deformed figures in brown prison uniforms wandering among the dense, towering pines and behind clusters of bushes.

Some were tall and muscular with fleshy wings on their backs, while others were thin as rails but possessed long, slender arms with fingers as sharp as blades, their skin shimmering with a gray-black, scale-like luster.

Even worse, some had grown seven or eight legs and walked with bent limbs like spiders, their upper bodies clutching their faces as they lowered their heads and emitted chilling, mournful cries.

What exactly are these monsters... Are they truly demons that crawled out of the lake?

Gilan's expression turned grave.

He was confident he could kill a single Prisoner Monster, and could even barely hold his own against two... but with three, four, or more, he would have to avoid a direct confrontation.

Furthermore, he had no idea what to expect from the other two types of unknown monsters he hadn't encountered yet.

The Apocalypse Dream wouldn't guide me to find the library's historical annals for no reason. I'm inclined to believe they are directly related to that burned-down prisoner-of-war camp.

He muttered to himself.

As his thoughts shifted, Gilan quietly left his spot, intending to bypass the area where the Prisoner Monsters were wandering and continue toward the Black Lake deep in the forest.

However, a piercing shriek, like the wailing of an infant, suddenly erupted from behind him!

"Waa—"

Gilan whipped his head around to see a monster in an oversized prison uniform, but with the stature of a child, having climbed to the midsection of a pine tree. Its massive head, covered in tumors like a honeycomb, had over a dozen exposed eyeballs staring straight at him, while its gaping mouth below continued to scream:

"Waa—waa—"

Pat-pat, pat-pat!

Pat-pat, pat-pat!!

A flurry of dense movement erupted as the wandering Prisoner Monsters were instantly drawn by the cries, each of them charging toward Gilan's position!

"You motherfucker!" Gilan, incensed, drew his snub-nosed revolver and pulled the trigger at the small monster.

Bang, bang, bang!!

The final three bullets fired; one struck the pine tree, and the other two missed.

The small monster was surprisingly agile. It had moved the moment Gilan raised his hand, scurrying up to the very top of the pine tree, all the while keeping its mouth open to scream and draw the other monsters in with its piercing noise.

Hearing the commotion closing in behind him, Gilan knew the Prisoner Monsters had spotted him, so he took off running.

He moved with agility, weaving and leaping through the forest like a wildcat. Neither the muddy ground, the bushes, nor the rocks could hinder him. In just two minutes, he had dashed over a thousand meters, leaving the monsters behind.

The second stage of the White Cross Body-Forging Technique, "Yellow Bile," had focused on enhancing Gilan's agility and stamina, allowing him to easily burst into a sprint at the limits of a normal human and maintain it for longer.

However, Gilan's expression remained grim.

He noticed that the small monster with the deformed head was like a persistent plaster that couldn't be shaken off; it leaped and climbed between the pine trees, tailing him the entire time while continuing to shriek:

"Waa—waa—"

In the silent forest, the cries were jarring and abrupt, echoing for a long time.

That group of monsters can always track my position based on the screaming; they'll chase me endlessly... If this continues, it might even attract more monsters, and that would be a huge problem!

Gilan thought to himself.

Listening to the noisy wailing in his ears, he wore a fierce expression. As he raised his hand, a flash of colorful light bloomed, and an old-fashioned double-barreled shotgun appeared in his grip.

"Have you screamed enough?! Do you really think I have no way to deal with you!"

The shotgun was the weapon Gilan was most familiar with. While he couldn't claim to never miss, he could easily hit a target within thirty meters.

Bang, bang!!

Both shots rang out almost simultaneously.

The screaming at the top of the pine tree stopped abruptly.

Immediately after, a small figure plummeted from the sky, slamming into the ground with a thud amidst a spray of black-yellow blood.

Without a word, Gilan sprinted over and kicked out.

Bang!!

The deformed monster, which had one arm and one leg shattered by the shotgun blast, was struck by his fierce kick while it struggled and writhed. Like a soccer ball blasted by an athlete, it flew straight backward.

With a sharp crack, the already heavily wounded monster slammed into a pine tree, shaking the trunk violently.

Its mangled body slumped to the ground like wet mud. Gilan walked over and extended a finger stained with iridescent light, touching it lightly; the monster immediately began to decay, finally dissolving into dust and vanishing.

The colorful numbers in Gilan's eyes jumped from "23" to "25."

He let out a cold, satisfied sneer, reloading his double-barreled shotgun as he strode away from the scene.

A few moments later.

Gilan had completely shaken off the pursuit of the monster pack.

Judging by the sounds he had heard last, he estimated there were at least a dozen of them. Fortunately, he had run fast; had he been surrounded, he would have been forced to use the power of Iridescence to break away from the film... but that would have exposed his trump card.

Unless absolutely necessary, Gilan did not want to do that.

He continued through the forest for several dozen minutes until his field of vision suddenly opened up.

Gilan felt a surge of joy and immediately pushed through the bushes ahead, a lake instantly coming into view.

Surrounded by mountains in the distance, the gloomy sky reflected on the water, giving the entire lake a dull, ink-green hue, like an ancient and mysterious irregular mirror.

The lake was bordered by a gravel beach over a dozen meters wide, dark gray in its entirety.

Is this the "Black Lake"?

Gilan did not approach rashly; instead, he held his breath and scanned his surroundings.

The environment was deathly quiet, almost stifling. There wasn't a soul in sight, not even a wild animal; the atmosphere was incredibly oppressive and eerie.

Just then, Gilan suddenly noticed that on the far side of the lake, he could faintly make out a narrow wooden pier leading to a small wooden house built over the water.

Could that be the secluded dwelling of the "Alchemist" Rembrandt?

Gilan's heart stirred.

He took a deep breath, raised his shotgun, and stepped forward cautiously, keeping a deliberate distance from the Black Lake as he made his way along the beach toward the other side.