After Layla left, Shen Lin and the others followed her instructions. When the landlady, Mrs. Anne, hobbled out with her cane, leading a patchy parrot on a thin leash for a walk, they sneaked out of the small building.

At five in the morning today, Brian used his stealth skills to leave Layla’s house and meet up with Freud. After a stroke of luck, they found an abandoned house on Harsank Street to serve as a temporary hideout.

They regrouped at this hideout after leaving Layla’s place.

The house wasn’t large, but it was enough to accommodate the five of them temporarily. The floor was dirty and hadn’t been cleaned in a long time, with cobwebs in the corners and mysterious dark stains radiating outward. There was also a burnt smell coming from somewhere.

The house screamed “haunted.”

Freud said, “We did a quick inspection after arriving and didn’t find anything strange, except for this pool of blood.” He added seriously, “Hmm, it’s probably from killing a chicken. No big deal.”

Brian shivered, “What do you mean, no big deal?!”

Freud chuckled, “Given our current situation, we can’t afford to be picky. This town is strange—there are many people but few empty houses, and there are quite a few homeless people on the streets, far exceeding the town’s capacity. Instead of waiting here to die, why don’t they think about leaving?”

“The girl who saved us repeatedly warned us not to think about leaving. Earlier, at the tavern, the bartender Luther also said that the people here can’t leave,” Shen Lin said. “He also mentioned that the gods have granted them slower aging, so this situation isn’t hard to understand.”

He calmly analyzed, “The town’s resources are limited, but people’s lifespans are long, and reproduction continues. More and more people are competing for these limited resources, and some will inevitably be left out. But I think the reason this contradiction became apparent was ten years ago. I remember someone in the tavern saying that the ritual ten years ago failed, and the outsiders didn’t provide enough supplies, making the shortage over the past decade even more severe. Besides that, I think part of the reason lies with Benson.”

“Benson is the town’s priest, with a status no lower than the mayor,” Freud continued. “I gathered some information about him. He claims to be a messenger chosen by the gods, with a longer lifespan and more handsome appearance than ordinary people. He has privileges beyond the mayor’s, including the authority to execute any townsfolk at will.”

“Yes, Benson is responsible for trading supplies with outsiders and controls most of the resources, thus holding the townspeople’s lives in his hands.”

Shen Lin had a natural aversion to Benson. He paused before continuing.

“Regular resources can be self-sufficient, but things like medicine, coal, and cotton, which they can’t produce themselves, must be obtained from outsiders, especially medicine. Based on this, I think we can deduce that the cruise ship we were on was carrying supplies for Dylan to trade.”

“But the ship hit a reef and sank,” Brian blinked. “Dylan lost the supplies, so he’s hiding out of fear? Wait, is it possible he went back and got another ship full of supplies?”

“That ship was huge, carrying enough supplies to sustain a small town for ten years. Even the Harrison family, which Dylan belongs to, couldn’t amass such a large amount of supplies in a short time,” Nana shook her head in denial. “He must be hiding on this island, afraid to show his face because he can’t explain the situation to Benson.”

Shen Lin frowned and asked, “Why doesn’t he go to the ‘messenger’? He’s absolutely loyal to the Harrison family.”

Everyone fell silent, unable to find an explanation.

“Unless…” After a moment, Shen Lin and Yan Xiu Yi spoke almost simultaneously, “There’s someone here he trusts more.”

At this possibility, everyone’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Who… could that be?” Nana asked slowly.

Freud’s voice was grave, “And what about the missing sacrificial offering?”

Everyone fell silent again. This was something they needed to investigate. But more pressing was the fact that they hadn’t found any clues about the ritual, which left them deeply frustrated.

To put it bluntly, the town’s development had little to do with them. The sword hanging over their heads was the game’s requirement—they had to find Dylan, figure out what the ritual was, and find a way to leave. Only then could they survive.

In this seemingly hopeless situation, Shen Lin calmly said, “I want to go to the library.”

His emerald-green eyes turned to Freud, “Will you come with me?”

. . .

The library of Moonfall Township was located on Furong Street, adjacent to the cathedral. This street was cleaner and more orderly than any Shen Lin had walked before, lined with tall plane trees and filled with a faint floral scent.

Wealthy people dressed in luxurious clothes strolled leisurely here, as if the disasters of disease and hunger plaguing other streets didn’t exist.

The library stood at the end of the street, around the corner.

Freud and Shen Lin walked side by side. Freud’s gaze, behind his glasses, fell on Shen Lin’s profile. KP had given this young man exceptionally handsome features, but in Freud’s memory, his original appearance was no less impressive. He recalled how Shen Lin had behaved in the game, feeling that this young man must have experienced many bizarre, unimaginable things to remain so composed and confident in finding solutions no matter the situation.

He opened his mouth and asked, “Why do you want to go to the library?”

“No matter where or when, libraries hold the history of a town. I saw the god they serve on the cathedral’s stained glass—a creature born from an egg…” Shen Lin searched for the right word, “an aberration. It looked very peculiar, with a spider-like body, eight tentacle-like legs, and crocodile-like vertical pupils. I want to know the history of this town and its connection to this god. More importantly, I think the text on the parchment might be the town’s oldest script, a ritual book passed down for worshipping the god.”

“You’re so clever!” Freud exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that? But the culture here has already blended. People always tend to move toward convenience, so it’s hard to say if such ancient scripts have survived. Besides, how much of their own written records could a remote town like this have?”

“It might be difficult,” Shen Lin said firmly, “but as long as there’s a chance to decipher the parchment, it’s worth trying.”

Freud nodded and smiled at Shen Lin, “I’m really lucky to have a companion like you this time.”

Shen Lin chuckled softly, “I feel the same about meeting you.”

The two stopped at the library entrance. Inside the lobby was a beautiful woman in a long dress, sitting at the front desk reading a book. Shen Lin glanced at the cover—it was a familiar collection of poems, The Flying Island Collection.

The woman looked up at them and pulled out two cards from the side, “New faces? You’ll need to register.”

Shen Lin took the card and was immediately stumped by the first line.

Townsperson ID.

Clearly, they didn’t have one.

KP said, “You can’t pass the registration. What do you plan to do?”

Shen Lin didn’t respond to KP. He scanned the library lobby and noticed a signboard not far away, which read:

[Moonfall Township Library Entry Rules]

• Library hours: 8 AM to 10 PM.
• Entry by registration card only.

A man in a gentleman’s suit walked up from behind, bumping into Shen Lin’s shoulder. He adjusted his glasses and said arrogantly, “This is no place for the poor lower class. Knowledge is only for the noble purebloods. Get out of here, peasants!”

Freud: “Damn, this guy is asking for a beating. Can I hit him?”

KP egged him on: “Of course.”

Shen Lin: “Roll for charm.”

KP: “Charm who?”

Shen Lin expressionlessly: “What nonsense are you spouting?”

Freud: “…”

The dice appeared, and Shen Lin clicked to roll, getting a 6.

Success.

Thanks to his opera training, Orion had a beautiful voice, deep and resonant like a cello. He softly recited to the woman at the desk, “When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, and trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, and look upon myself and curse my fate…”

The woman at the front desk looked up in surprise, her brown eyes locking onto Shen Lin’s face with a look of admiration.

Shen Lin continued, “Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, featured like him, like him with friends possessed, desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope… But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild at every word, methought I heard one calling ‘Child!’ and I replied ‘My Lord.’”

“What beautiful poetry,” the woman praised, her expression softening as she looked at Shen Lin. “A lament of fate. You’re a remarkable poet.”

Shen Lin said, “These aren’t my words, but I love them just the same.” He glanced at the departing nobleman, showing no trace of anger from the earlier insult. “He’s wrong. Knowledge is a shared wealth, born of spirit and consciousness, not of birth. I want to embrace knowledge.”

The woman looked at Shen Lin with hesitation.

Shen Lin’s emerald eyes stared unwaveringly at her as he pleaded, “Please give me a chance.”

Her heart melted. The woman sighed, her expression softening, “Your eyes are more captivating than poetry. Alright, but I can only give you an hour.”

“That’s enough. Thank you, beautiful lady,” Shen Lin smiled, making the woman blush. He asked, “I’d like to look at ancient texts. Which section has the town’s history and scripts?”

The woman hesitated, then said regretfully, “I’m sorry, but even I don’t have access to those areas. Those books are too old and fragile. They can’t be taken out for browsing.”

“Are they not stored here?”

“No, they’re kept in the sanctuary. Benson is in charge of those books.”

Shen Lin: “…”

Shen Lin said, “I want to roll for luck.”

“…Roll for luck?”

Shen Lin: “Yes. I want to see if I’m lucky enough that someone happens to offer me a privately owned dictionary that can help me translate these texts.”

“There isn’t one,” KP said emotionlessly.

“There could be,” Shen Lin said, even more emotionless.

KP: “…”

Shen Lin said, “I request a difficult luck roll.”

KP paused, then said, “Alright, roll first, and then I’ll think about how to make it up.”

Author’s Note:
KP: Making up the plot as we go.
The poem Shen Lin recited is from Shakespeare’s sonnets, with some cuts.
The Flying Island Collection is actually The Flying Bird Collection, lol.