Black Lake Thirteen

The group walked through the Pine Forest.

Miss Sparrow suddenly thought of something, turning her head with a look of curiosity on her pretty face.

"Mr. Snowy Owl, if the 'Demon of the Lake' really was transformed from prisoners... then why haven't the cultists of the 'Lake God Cult' undergone mutations?"

"I don't know." Gilan finished his last puff of smoke and shook his head.

He slid the empty revolver back into his holster and flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with his toe.

In truth, he had his own suspicions.

The reason why everyone in the 'Expeditionary Exploration Team' prisoner camp, soldier and prisoner alike, suffered such deformities most likely stems from the fact that they lived on the shores of the Black Lake for so long...

Gilan mused to himself.

After all, the "Expeditionary Exploration Team" not only used the lake water for their daily needs but also lived in such close proximity to the Black Lake that they were constantly exposed to the miasma, corruption, and mysterious influence radiating from it.

Only with these two factors combined could a total mutation of the entire group occur.

And this was the biggest difference between them and the members of the "Lake God Cult."

The cultists mostly lived in the town and only consumed the lake water indirectly, so the corruption they suffered never reached the level of physical mutation; their external symptoms were limited to mental confusion and erratic behavior.

"Stop." At this moment, Mr. Stork held his steel-core cane in one hand and drew his pistol with the other, signaling the group with a grave expression. "Be careful, the cultists of the 'Lake God Cult' are here."

The other members of the society immediately grew alert, drawing their respective weapons in defense.

Tall pine trees stood all around, their needles swaying gently.

Caw—

Accompanied by the cry of an unknown wild bird, a group of diverse figures wearing Reindeer Masks emerged from behind the pine trees in every direction, brandishing wood axes or firearms as they surrounded the group.

The scene felt familiar—no, it was identical to the encounter from the last viewing.

"Damned sacrifices! How dare you defy the will of the 'Lake God'!"

"Hand over the 'Ritual Saber' at once!"

"Kill! Kill these sacrifices! We need more blood, more hearts!"

The cultists shrieked, their tone manic.

Mr. Stork seemed prepared; he kept a cold face and gestured to the group.

The next second.

The society members struck almost in unison, bullets and arrows pouring toward the enemy.

Whoosh!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In the first exchange, four or five cultists collapsed with screams.

But soon, the remaining cultists reacted, charging at the society without fear of death. Flying axes and bullets streaked through the woods, filling the forest with a deafening roar.

However, Mr. Stork and the others had already scattered, finding cover with Fima.

Gilan bypassed the front line, weaving through the pine trees on the right. His movements were lightning-fast; before one cultist could even turn his head, Gilan had already clamped his arms around the man's throat.

"Urgh!" The male cultist in the Reindeer Mask struggled desperately, flailing, scratching, and kicking.

Gilan, standing behind him, remained expressionless. His arms, hard as steel, tightened once more. Amidst the terrifying sound of straining muscle, he strangled the enemy in his grasp to death!

With a thud, the corpse collapsed limply to the ground.

Gilan glanced toward the rest of the society, and seeing they hadn't noticed him, he reached down to touch the cultist's body.

However, nothing happened.

"Hm?" Gilan turned his palm over, looking at his fingers in confusion. "No decay?"

Soon, he realized the corpse at his feet looked familiar, so he removed the Reindeer Mask from its face... beneath the mask, a handsome yet twisted face reflected in Gilan's eyes.

It was none other than Sheriff Pierre Aichi.

I didn't hire him to accompany me this time, yet he joined the ambush party on his own... It seems, much like the mechanism of the double-barreled shotgun, the mysterious monsters or corrupted people in the film can only be decayed by me once.

Gilan realized with a sigh of disappointment.

"Ahhh!!"

Just then, a shrill, miserable scream erupted from behind a nearby thicket.

Gilan looked up, his heart tightening.

He saw a group of deformed, prisoner-clad monsters descending like a plague of locusts, attacking the cultists of the "Lake God Cult"!

There were at least twenty or thirty of these monsters, a massive and terrifying force!

"Wah—"

"Wah—wah—"

At the top of the pine trees, three or four child-monsters with beehive-like deformed heads shrieked incessantly.

Below the trees, seven or eight muscular monsters with fleshy wings rampaged through the brush, violently tearing through the foliage. With heavy blows of their fists and palms, they easily shattered the skulls and chests of the cultists, blood spraying amidst the dull thuds of impact.

"Demons?!"

"Hahahahaha!!"

"Kill all these monsters! Refine them into the 'Elixir of Immortality' as well!"

Several Cultists went mad, brandishing wood-chopping axes as they attempted to fight the monsters. However, several arms covered in gray scales and tipped with sharp claws suddenly erupted from the mud beneath their feet, grabbing their legs and forcibly dragging them into the earth... Moments later, blood foam seeped out, and all movement ceased.

The remaining Cultists laughed maniacally, firing their shotguns and pistols at two monsters that were "crawling" toward them like spiders on multiple legs.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!!

Bullet holes appeared on the bodies of the "spider" monsters, but not a single drop of blood flowed out. Instead, they seemed enraged by the Cultists' actions... They pulled their twisted faces away from their shielding hands, snapped their heads up, and let out a blood-curdling, wailing shriek.

The Cultists instantly stopped all movement as if they had lost their souls, standing frozen in place before being swarmed by the horde of monsters.

"Mr. Snowy Owl! Come here quickly!"

At this moment, Miss Sparrow shouted anxiously.

Gilan turned his head to look and saw the members of the Society and Fima being shielded behind Mr. Stork, who held his Steel-core Cane in his left hand and raised the Old Military Saber high in his right.

The approaching Prisoner Monsters seemed not to see them at all, bypassing the group entirely and even deliberately maintaining a distance, not daring to get close as they lunged only at the few surviving Cultists.

Gilan sprinted out, and within a few breaths, he nimbly darted back into the group.

As soon as he arrived, he heard Mr. Oystercatcher say with pleasant surprise:

"It really works! This military saber can truly repel those demons!"

"You scared me to death..." Miss Sparrow gently clutched the collar at her chest and let out a long breath. "I thought we were going to be eaten by those monsters."

"Stay close to me, don't fall behind."

At this, Mr. Stork turned his head and said in a low, solemn voice to the group.

He immediately raised the military saber high and began to walk toward the depths of the forest, with the others following closely behind him.

Seeing those deformed monsters pass by them and smelling the stench of rot they emitted, Fima could not help but tremble with fear, needing the support of Miss Seagull to stand steady.

Yet even Miss Seagull, who was usually composed and calm, had a face that had turned somewhat pale.

It was not until the group had walked a long distance and could no longer see the shadows of the monsters that they finally relaxed their taut nerves.

At this moment, Miss Seagull glanced back at Gilan. Seeming to recall something, she let go of the hand supporting Fima and began rummaging through her small satchel.

"Mr. Snowy Owl, here."

Gilan heard someone call him and suddenly saw a fair, smooth hand extended before him.

In her palm, she held a handful of gleaming yellow bullets.

Gilan looked up, casting an inquisitive gaze at Miss Seagull.

"I noticed you haven't fired your gun in a long time. Are you out of ammunition?"

She asked softly.

Gilan stared at her in silence for two seconds, until Miss Seagull unconsciously turned her head away, before he spoke:

"Thank you. My ammunition was indeed exhausted."

He took the bullets from Miss Seagull, accidentally brushing against her fair, slender hand, and could feel her cold, sweaty palm.

This woman is very nervous? Well, that makes sense. Facing those monsters, even the most capable woman would be nervous.

Gilan thought to himself.