Chapter 96 | The Crimson Moon Returns

The kerosene lamp, the luggage, the daily necessities—nothing had changed. Maya, the female reporter, was still huddled under the bedding, fast asleep.

Yet without him realizing when, all of it was now situated inside a bizarre building.

The structure was primitive and ancient, with earthen walls, mud bricks, wooden windows, and stone doors. A few pieces of stone furniture lay scattered about, looking nothing like anything in Rhine City. Thick dust coated the furniture, clearly unused for a very long time.

But why were there noises outside?

What had happened?

Lynch was no longer as terrified as he had been the first time, but the tension brought on by the sudden change lingered stubbornly.

‘Neighbor, are you still there?’

【Always.】

His lips curved slightly in the darkness. That familiar voice quickly eased his nerves. ‘It’s nothing. As long as you're here, I feel grounded. Let’s keep exploring the scenery along the journey to immortality.’

【Mm.】

His thoughts swiftly regained composure. After a brief hesitation, Lynch activated Phantasmal Sound and pressed close to the gap in the wooden window to peer outside.

Outside was pitch black, save for faint light radiating from the distance. The dim glow outlined the surroundings: hazy, shadowy silhouettes of endless rows of low buildings stretching into infinity, with indistinct figures swaying between them.

There are people. Put out the light.

Quickly twisting off the kerosene lamp, the room was plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow from outside filtering through the cracks.

Straining his ears in the dark, he heard no talking outside—only faint footsteps and bizarre, guttural growls drifting in and out of the buildings' shadows, as if some eerie entities were wandering aimlessly.

Lynch pondered for a moment before stepping back from the window. Treading lightly, he made his way over to Maya. The female reporter’s breathing was steady; she was clearly dead asleep.

Hesitating for a second, Lynch reached out, intending to shake Maya awake.

Let's see if she has any clues.

However, when his hand reached out, it didn't touch Maya. Instead, it passed straight through the bedding, as if she were merely an illusion.

Hm? But I can touch other objects.

A chill ran down Lynch's spine. He tried again, but still grabbed nothing but air.

Frowning, an ominous premonition rose in Lynch's heart. Returning to the window, he saw that the shadows outside were still wandering. This time, they were closer, allowing Lynch to barely make out their outlines.

The moment he saw them clearly, he drew a sharp breath.

Bizarre rubbery skin, wolf-like fangs, blood-red eyes filled with thirst and madness, and sharp claws like razor blades.

Ghouls. Several ghouls.

Watching those swaying shadows in the dark near and far, Lynch’s heart raced. Damn it, did I run into another mystery event? Or did I fall asleep and start dreaming too?

Wait... a dream? Maya’s dream?

A flash of inspiration struck his mind as Lynch suddenly remembered the dream Maya had described earlier.

An ancient, eerie city, ghouls wandering everywhere... Everything matched her description. Had he been dragged into that dream as well?

No, I can’t touch her. She has a unique state here, which means she must occupy a critical position.

Damn it, was I pulled into her dream by her? Is she capable of something like that?

Realizing he was likely stranded in a city teeming with ghouls, with an unspeakable entity dwelling in a temple, Lynch felt needles on his back. This was the first time he had to face such a situation entirely alone, and everything felt fraught with uncertainty.

I have to hide here and not go out under any circumstances. If the city's ghouls discover me, I’m done for. Waiting for her to wake up is the safest bet.

That was Lynch's instinctual judgment. But on second thought, who knew when she would wake up? Besides, what if the passage of time here differed, like in movies? Could he really afford to wait for her to awaken?

No, waiting is too passive. I have to find a way to make her wake up.

Lynch tried once more to shake Maya awake, but his hand passed right through her body again. He tried calling out by her ear, but that proved equally useless, as if the two of them existed in entirely different worlds.

It’s no use, then. I have no other choice. Waiting here to die isn't an option. Although it's dangerous outside, there might be a way out.

Let’s go out and take a look.

Shielding the faint light of his lighter, he left a note for Maya before approaching the window. Waiting until the ghouls outside wandered elsewhere, Lynch gritted his teeth, silently opened the window, and slipped outside.

He immediately used his ability to conceal himself, but didn't dare let his guard down. Having tested it on Officer Angel before, he knew that if there was a power gap, getting too close made it easy to be seen through. Lynch wasn't about to gamble on the odds of being discovered.

Glancing around swiftly, the outside was equally pitch-black, without sun, moon, or starlight overhead. There was no telling where this city was located. Relying solely on the greenish glow emanating from a distant building, he could barely distinguish his surroundings.

In the shadows, figures swayed everywhere. Rustling footsteps, zombie-like low growls, and the distinctive stench of ghoul decay washed over him from every direction. He couldn't tell if ghouls were especially dense nearby or if the entire city was like this.

Hopefully, it's just this area that's unusual.

Nursing that hopeful thought, Lynch decided to observe the vicinity for a while. Leaving a marker behind, he headed toward the light, creeping carefully along the side of a building. One step, two steps... Holy shit.

In the darkness, a hideous face appeared inches from Lynch's nose, startling him so badly he nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

The visibility was too low; he had nearly crashed straight into it. The distance was so close that Lynch could even smell the foul stench spewing from its mouth. The monster seemed to sense something amiss, leaning forward and sniffing repeatedly.

Scalp tingling with dread, Lynch covered his mouth and nose, backing away several paces to create distance, though his heart sank. He realized he had overlooked a major flaw: while he had concealed his visuals and sounds, he could do nothing about scent.

Yet there was no time to remedy that now. Having backed away, Lynch gripped his revolver and ring, ready to engage in combat at any second. However, the ghoul merely sniffed around before turning away listlessly to continue wandering.

Phew, that was close.

Pressing a hand to his pounding chest, Lynch let out a long breath. He realized that from carrying and holding Maya earlier, his body had long been drenched in her rotting stench. No wonder he hadn't been exposed! It seemed doing good deeds occasionally had its perks.

Having survived that scare, an idea occurred to Lynch. Unlike normal circumstances, creeping through hidden spots was ill-advised here, as it made it too easy to bump face-to-face into ghouls. Instead, an area with a wider field of view and greater distance from the ghouls was much more suitable.

For example, right down the middle of the street.

In this ancient city, the streets were exceedingly narrow compared to Rhine City, unable to even accommodate a carriage. But creeping low along the center of the street went just as Lynch had envisioned, smoothly avoiding many roaming ghouls as he gradually drew closer to the source of the green light.

Things were progressing quite smoothly, bringing a smile to Lynch's lips. Yet the smile froze the instant it appeared—a sickening, concentrated stench of blood was wafting toward him from ahead.

Every anomaly could be a sign of a mystery; whether it was a blessing or a curse was impossible to predict.

Lynch's heart tightened. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head away. Sorry, I didn't smell a thing.

Yet things were never so simple. Just as he turned to leave, before taking more than a few steps, Lynch felt something soft yield beneath his foot.

He seemed to have stepped on something soft.

Along the way, there had been no debris on the streets at all. This was the first time he had stepped on a foreign object. It was impossible to ignore now. Lynch crouched down and felt it, discovering it was a piece of torn cloth.

It wasn't the strange leather worn by the surrounding ghouls, but linen woven with Victorian-era craftsmanship.

Why is something like this here?

Regardless of what state he was currently in, such textiles shouldn't exist in this city.

Could it have dropped from Maya's previous dream? But Lynch chuckled at his own thought; even in the occult world, he had never heard of dropping physical items into a dream.

Unless this wasn't a dream at all—or rather, more than just a dream—modern fabric shouldn't appear here.

The light was too dim to inspect it closely, so Lynch brought the rag to his nose and sniffed. Besides the intense metallic smell of blood, there was a rancid sour odor—not the rotting stench of ghouls, but rather the sour reek of vagrants or garbage heaps.

Scraps from a vagrant's clothes? But why is there such a heavy smell of blood?

The ghouls nearby felt more numerous than on the road earlier, seemingly drawn by something and lingering around. Lynch had a bad feeling. Deciding not to avoid it any longer, he stepped forward a few paces toward the scent of blood.

It wasn't his imagination; the ghouls were indeed denser here. Lynch found moving forward quite strenuous. Not only did he have to constantly monitor his surroundings to avoid colliding head-on with ghouls, but he also had to inspect the ground periodically for areas with stronger traces of blood.

In the end, he dropped to all fours, crawling along the ground to search at the closest possible distance. Sure enough, he felt around and discovered several more scattered items.

A snapped wooden stick, shattered spectacles, a few thin planks of wood, three pennies in coin, and even a damaged boot.

All of them were stained with blood and reeked foully. The blood was still somewhat damp, indicating it hadn't been here long—likely left behind in the past day or two.

After sorting through the items he had found, they appeared to belong to several different people. Recalling the information Officer Natalie had shared earlier about twelve bodies gnawed by ghouls found near the train station, Lynch realized what had transpired.

Those twelve people were probably victims dragged into this place just like him. And the reason they were brought in...

Lynch looked back toward the direction he had come from. Although he was reluctant to believe it, he couldn't rule out the possibility that it was caused by Maya's influence.

The owners of these items all seemed to be vagrants, and Maya had spent the night before last in the abandoned carriage yard where vagrants congregated.

Lynch could already envision what had happened: the moment Maya fell asleep, those people appeared here one after another. But being ordinary mortals, they were quickly discovered and torn to shreds by packs of ghouls.

Damn it. I don't know if Maya pulling people in is an ongoing passive effect. Officer Natalie is coming over soon. If it remains active, she'll definitely be sent here too.

The consequences would be disastrous. He had to escape as quickly as possible to prevent Officer Natalie from falling into this trap.

Not daring to delay any longer, Lynch leapt onto a nearby rooftop and gazed around. The surroundings were still shrouded in darkness, indistinguishable, save for that building glowing with green light, extraordinarily prominent in the gloom.

Lynch recalled the foundational occult knowledge he had self-studied over the past few days. His memory was a bit fuzzy, but he still vaguely remembered the three elements of dreams.

The owner, the constructed scene, and the core factor.

The owner was tentatively Maya; the constructed scene was undoubtedly this city she had dreamed of; and the core factor... It would automatically become the focal point of the dream. The dream might shift, but the core factor usually remained constant. Wherever was most eye-catching and noteworthy was most likely the core factor.

According to the three elements of dreams, one of the most common ways to break out of a dream was to strike at the core factor, thereby waking the dream's owner and terminating the dream at its root.

And at this moment, the most obvious and crucial element of the dream was naturally that patch of green light.

Lynch looked in the direction of the green light and vaulted onto another rooftop.

Normal people and normal monsters usually wouldn't wander across rooftops, making the roofs far more suited for Lynch's stealth.

Having chosen his destination, Lynch hesitated no longer. Concealing his form, just as he had sprinted beneath the moon the night before, he dashed in a straight line across the rooftops toward the green light.

Silently thanking Bastet, the cat goddess, and Countess Hathaway, the Cat Baron, over and over, Lynch nimbly bounded across the rooftops like a sprinting black cat. Below, the ghouls crowding the streets growled mindlessly, completely oblivious to Lynch above. Even if his ability was occasionally seen through, the ghouls seemed dull-witted and largely devoid of awareness. Given Lynch's speed and vantage point, he was merely a dark silhouette flashing past; they couldn't react in time at all. In this manner, Lynch easily bypassed them, drawing closer and closer to the green light's source.

Yet as the green light grew brighter, Lynch suddenly halted, his expression turning somber as he looked upon the supposed building not far ahead.

It was hard to call it a building, for its material was unlike anything ordinary.

It was a temple constructed of ice. Showing no signs of melting, it radiated an intense chill instead. Even from dozens of meters away, one could feel the biting frost washing over them.

Dozens of colossal ice pillars formed a ring to support the entire structure, somewhat reminiscent of the Greek temples from his former world—tall and magnificent, standing in stark contrast to the low, rustic buildings of the city.

All the ice was exquisitely sculpted, solemn and imposing, instilling an instinctive sense of dread in whoever laid eyes upon it.

Yet across the entire surface of the temple lay a sickening, thick dark green mist, from which an eerie green luminescence radiated—the very light source illuminating this pitch-black world.

The surface of the fog roiled and spread, green vapors billowing upward from time to time as columns of mist reached outward like countless massive tentacles extending in all directions. The tentacles twisted and tangled in the air, dancing wildly, steeped in the bizarre and grotesque.

This must be the temple Maya mentioned.

Lynch exhaled, knowing he had found the right place.

In Maya’s previous account, the temple held a dominant position in her dream, further confirming that this bizarre structure was undeniably the core factor among the three elements of dreams.

Lynch calmed himself for a moment to become more composed, reviewing the knowledge of the three elements of dreams once more.

Maya could not be touched and possessed a special status, which meant she was the owner among the three elements; this was her dream, not the bizarre memories of some unspeakable entity or mysterious heteromorph.

The dream remained unchanged throughout, indicating that the constructed scene of the ghoul city was extremely stable. This implied that the scene's creation was likely induced or directly interfered with by an external force. Was it because of that dream in the hillmen's cave?

And the core factor was this bizarre temple. Now, as long as he delivered a strong enough impact against the core factor, he could terminate her dream.

The problem is, she never mentioned the temple would be this bizarre. The mist tentacles are still writhing, and the temperature is so low. Will I really be okay trying to strike it?