There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

Harris closed the cell door and left, leaving me alone in the empty room.

This detention cell looks very old; the walls inside haven't even been painted, and the ancient brick walls are exposed. If you pry them open, you could probably crush a piece off.

The dim light barely illuminated the room, revealing only a chamber pot and a simple wooden bed. A small window, barely allowing a glimpse of the sky, was embedded in the wall, meant to prevent the occupant from developing claustrophobia. But the window was too small for even an adult to reach out.

Three days in this godforsaken place?

Just kidding, I definitely have to find a way to get out.

I looked around at my surroundings, sighed silently, and sat down on the bed with the blanket. After a while, I felt a little tired, so I lay down and covered myself up.

Last night, I not only didn't sleep, but I also did a lot of physical labor, carpentry work, and fought a battle with an unknown creature. Exhaustion and lack of sleep quickly made me feel drowsy, and I stopped being picky about the environment, deciding to get some sleep first before making any plans.

In a daze, my consciousness quickly sank into a black ocean of consciousness, where the slight feeling of suffocation overwhelmed me.

My consciousness transformed into a small boat, rising and falling in waves stirred by my nerves, feeling my body slowly sinking into silence.

No more nerve signals were transmitted, and no more noise was heard. In this profound silence, an unusual sound wave radiated from my cochlea.

I know this isn't a real sound, but rather the last electrical current in the auditory nerve acting up, transforming into a long, sharp signal.

Once this signal becomes the dominant theme of the world, no one will be able to stop me from embracing my sweet dreams...

I don't know how much time had passed, but just as I was looking forward to relieving myself of the pressure and enjoying a complete and warm sleep, a barely perceptible sound entered my ears.

What was clearly just a very faint rustling sound transformed into a sandpaper-like noise in my ears as I was about to fall asleep. Each sound pierced my eardrums and struck the fragile, tired nerves in my brain.

My consciousness, which had already sunk into the ocean of sleep, was forcibly pulled back to reality. I returned to this body with double the exhaustion, so desperate that I didn't even want to move a finger.

However, at this moment, the sound finally broke free from the distortion caused by the water's reflection and revealed its original sound quality, which I could hear clearly.

The sound wasn't the sound of sandpaper scraping against a wall, but rather the sound of someone slowly turning the pages of a book.

The pages were flipped up with the rhythmic movement of the fingers, rubbing against the previous page repeatedly before turning to the other side of the book.

The entire movement was slow, mechanical, and rhythmic, like a rhythm that had been practiced hundreds of times. Even the speed at which he read the book was absolutely uniform.

As the sound echoed in my mind, fragmented images gradually appeared, blurring the lines between dream and reality, making it impossible to distinguish between illusion and reality.

I "saw" in the corner of the detention cell, right where my bed was, an oak table, where a ragged man was sitting, reading a book.

The book's cover was torn, and the pages were rounded and blunt, clearly having been read countless times, bearing the risk of excessive wear and tear, with each page potentially falling apart.

But the reader, whose face was obscured, showed no pity. He cared only about the contents of the book, showing no compassion whatsoever for the medium. This reading continued endlessly, and though I lay in bed with my eyes closed, I could only helplessly let the images flood my mind.

I neither want to move nor can I move.

My consciousness fluctuated between clarity and blurriness, but that image remained constant.

I don't know how much time passed, but I finally regained a sliver of reason from the chaos. My only thought was: "I need to move. Whether it's my fingers or my eyelids, let me move..."

But my body resolutely resisted me, defying my command for the first time and blocking all signals from my brain.

"nightmare!"

This idea was like a key to the world of consciousness, prying open a long-closed seal and making my brain fully alert.

The image I received gradually became shaky, like a television screen flickering with static due to interference; the originally clear picture became unreal.

A moment later I saw the reader stand up and pace anxiously around the cell, muttering something to himself.

A moment later, I saw him speaking loudly towards the outside of the detention room, seemingly trying to make contact with the outside.

A moment later, I saw him staring wide-eyed at the book, his hands trembling uncontrollably, the intense fear making him almost lose himself.

My consciousness began to wander, and as he moved, more details in the scene unfolded like a game map refreshing. The surroundings were no longer the old, dilapidated prison cell, but a meticulously furnished interrogation room. The reader and I were in a cage in the corner of the interrogation room!

The room's decor was completely different; a dim, yellowish filter enveloped my vision, as if time itself had turned into paint, splashed freely onto the canvas.

In this ancient world, only my color stood out as an incongruous hue. My consciousness even drifted out of my body, looking down from above at me, wrapped tightly in the blankets, as still as a corpse.

My gaze kept rising higher, an invisible force pulled me up into the sky, almost making me fly out of the room, into the sky, and into an endless, dazzling silver world of stars!

At this moment, the ragged reader had been replaced by someone sitting on the edge of the bed, frantically grabbing at his hair, caught in an extreme struggle.

Suddenly, I saw this old-fashioned person turn around and stare blankly at the spot where I was lying, as if they saw me!

He extended a finger and tremblingly touched my shoulder...

Suddenly, a force pulled me back into my body, just as I was about to drift out of this world!

Chapter 150 The Dark Knight?

It was then that I noticed his tattered clothes—an old-fashioned style of miner's protective suit, something no one wears anymore. The only time I'd ever seen it before was in the cave at the secret base, on a shelf left behind by the miners!

The stranger turned his head to look at me, trying in vain to reach me, but each time he passed through the air and grasped at nothing.

From the moment his fingers touched me for the only time, his entire being was tinged with a deep, ancient color, and it began to grow increasingly yellow, like a photograph aging rapidly, its pixels gradually turning white after being heavily blurred, about to disappear from the world.

But in my eyes, I saw his eyes were incredibly bright, with a human color that was completely out of place in this world, just like the human color on my body, so bright that it was like a 4K color image that had accidentally wandered into an original black and white television!

The brighter his eyes, the fainter his figure became, as the ancient world crumbled at an accelerated pace.

In the final moments, I finally opened my eyes through sheer willpower and regained control of my body! The last image left on my retina was the stranger's repeated lip movements.

"The end."

As soon as those words escaped my lips, the person finally smiled, stopped repeating the same words and struggling, and closed their only bright eye with a sense of relief.

The next second, that ancient world and that strange person vanished right before my eyes!

.........

I woke up from a nightmare, my heart stopped for several seconds, and then I surfaced like a drowning person, gasping for breath of the not-so-fresh air in the detention cell.

I finally saw the familiar furnishings around me, just a lonely bed and cold iron railings.

Only those who have experienced nightmares that reflect their deepest fears can understand how I feel. The originally terrible reality, the desperate situation, and the dilapidated environment all seem endearing now.

The iron bars that once restricted my freedom now look like loyal guardians protecting my safety.

I sat up in bed and looked out the small window. The moon was already high in the sky. Had I slept from early morning until night?

What bothers me even more is the person who appears in my nightmares.

After calming down and thinking about it, I couldn't help but chuckle.

Indeed, history is a vicious cycle.

Didn't this already happen during the time of the first miners who landed on the island?

Hook, who used to run a plantation at the foot of the mountain, was implicated in Antonio's mysterious and tragic death and was taken away by the sheriff for questioning and detained in the Mineral Town police station.

It was during this period that the strange occurrences in the town finally escalated into a major disaster that swept across the entire island, abruptly ending Mineral Town's first period of prosperity.

Decades later, I faced the same problem. I was also a prime suspect, unable to defend myself, and was imprisoned.

Could the person who appeared in this dream be Little Hook?

If the town's architectural layout hasn't changed much, then he must have been imprisoned here back then, right? During those days, he helplessly listened to the news coming from outside, heard the miners' panicked rumors, and endured everyone's malicious speculation.

Could it be that his obsession back then transformed into this fragmented image, resonating with my shared suffering, which is why it appeared in my dream?

I recall his last words.

"The end."

What is being ended?

I kept repeating that word, pondering the meaning behind his words.

Is it to end his obsession? To end the town's misfortune? To end the spread of evil? Or to end his own life?

Why would he choose ending rather than salvation as his belief? The word is too cold and harsh, like a knife stuck in my chest, making my blood boil, restless, and unable to find peace.

Before the end, there must be an unknown premise. Has this hidden crisis, which destroyed this town decades ago, not yet ended?

Could it be that this crisis, which has been lurking for decades and lying dormant until today when all is calm, is finally about to bare its fangs and reveal its hidden killing intent?

A sense of dread that transcended time and space spread throughout my body. What right did I have to end all of this? Perhaps the only thing I could control in terms of ending it was my own life.

The history of the town suddenly unfolded clearly before my eyes.

If things had proceeded as they did back then, even greater panic would have erupted within days. In that time of widespread fear, would that eerie, murderous song echo again over the town?

All of this lingers in my mind, disturbing my peace of mind.

No, I need to calm down first.

Now that I know the story from back then and have the system to rely on, I'm confident I can turn things around. As long as I can find the core of this event!

The incident began with the murder of Gotz, so the source of everything must be traced back to Gotz!

Going back further, the biggest mystery surrounding Gotz is the mysterious killer!

This is the direct cause of the impending panic in the town, where everyone is on edge!

No one can choose to sleep soundly amidst lurking threats, so there are only two choices: face them or run away.

Those who confront us may hurt more people in their pursuit of the truth.

Those who flee are themselves a real harm to the peaceful town.

I think Harris locked me up to draw suspicion to me, using me as the most suspicious person to buy him enough time to find the culprit. On the darker side, even if the killer isn't found, doesn't the public already have one in their minds?

Back then, young Hooker likely silently took the blame. He chose not to defend himself, sacrificing his reputation to temporarily suppress the situation. This was probably a delaying tactic devised by elder Yorkson.

Unfortunately, the bizarre events that followed were even more intense, shattering their efforts and destroying Little Hook, the last barrier to Mount Mads, the fuse that kept Mineral Town in balance.

The residents may have a list of suspects in their minds, and I certainly have my own suspects.

That mysterious creature living in the lagoon halfway up Mount Mads is definitely the most suspicious culprit!

But why did Harris conceal this information and insist that the creature would not commit the crime?

Harris probably knows more than I thought.

Therefore, the key to breaking the deadlock for me is no longer with the stubborn sheriff Harris. His stubbornness will lead him to make the same mistakes as the sheriff back then, allowing the situation to escalate out of control.

Only I, Hook's replacement, can uncover the truth.

Then the problem is coming...

If I were to do all this part-time, I would need to make a plan as quickly as possible and escape from here. Then, I would discard all the details, ignore the residents' suspicions, ignore Harris's plan, ignore Gotz's secret, and directly search for the mysterious creature hidden in the lake.

For the sake of my ideal peaceful daily life, I have to take a gamble. If I lose, things might get worse, or they might not, but I definitely won't deserve to live in town anymore.