Chapter 310: An Unlucky Vacation (9)
Inside the campground office.
With the campground managers subdued, one of the investigators stepped forward carrying a jar of clay.
The team had been assembled from three neighboring states. Most of the investigators had never worked together before and knew very little about each other’s abilities and supernatural items. Before using the clay, the investigator took a moment to explain how it worked.
The clay was called Fleshbone Clay, an evil artifact confiscated from a witch’s home. It was made from the flesh, blood, and cremated bones of the dead.
If a strand of a living person’s hair was mixed into the clay before it was applied to the user’s face, even a lump no larger than a thumb could completely alter the user’s appearance—body shape, facial features, scent, and even voice—making them indistinguishable from the owner of the hair.
There were, however, two important limitations.
First, the disguise lasted only thirty minutes. Once the time expired, the clay would dry, crack, and flake away, revealing the user’s original appearance.
Second, water was its greatest weakness. If the clay became wet, it would soften, collapse, and lose its effect almost immediately.
The investigator used the Fleshbone Clay to transform himself into one of the campground managers. After changing into the manager’s clothes and slipping on a pair of sandals, he walked down to the lakeshore.
Claiming that he had an important announcement to make, he successfully gathered all of the young swimmers into a nearby wooden pavilion, where the investigators quickly brought them under control.
Throughout the entire process, Gary kept his head lowered, allowing his damp hair to cover his face. He offered no resistance whatsoever.
The other campers, caught completely off guard by the sudden assault, were too busy watching the investigators surrounding them to notice that one unfamiliar man had somehow slipped into their ranks.
Without the slightest suspicion, Gary blended seamlessly into the group of campers and was escorted by two of the less combat-capable investigators to an abandoned villa near the campground, where they were assigned to guard the captives.
If Everly had been there, she would have immediately cited Horror Movie Survival Rule #11: Never split up or go off alone, and stopped the investigators from making such a fatal mistake.
Unfortunately…
She wasn’t.
Thus, in a corner where no one was paying attention, Death’s blade fell without warning.
Separated from the main group, the two investigators never even had a chance to react. One after the other, their throats were slit by a silent, blond man hidden among the campers, using nothing more than a shard of broken glass.
“AAAH!”
A shrill scream rang out as vivid blood once again spread across the weathered wooden floor of the abandoned villa.
…
“I don’t know why, but I have a really bad feeling about this.”
Beside Emerald Lake, a female investigator disguised as a vacationer suddenly pressed a hand to her chest, her expression grave.
“Because of Fake Gary? We heard he’s already driven into Red Oak Forest.”
“Maybe…” She frowned, her voice distant. “I’ve never felt my heart pounding this hard before. Can this operation really succeed?”
The surrounding investigators fell silent.
More than half of the SAI investigators possessed psychic abilities, and among psychics, having a “sixth sense” or an uncanny premonition was fairly common.
The woman who had just spoken wasn’t the only one feeling it. Several other investigators stationed throughout the campground who possessed precognitive or intuitive abilities had also begun exhibiting symptoms to varying degrees—heart palpitations, shortness of breath, chills, cold sweats…
It was a sign that this mission was extraordinarily dangerous.
There was a very real possibility that they were marching toward almost certain death.
No one was unafraid of dying, and the investigators’ grim expressions reflected that.
Even so, none of them considered backing down.
They might not have been as powerful as the personnel at SAI Headquarters, and each had joined the organization for different reasons. But there was one thing they all shared:
The moment they entered the SAI, they had already accepted the possibility of dying in the line of duty.
Even if this mission ended in certain death, none of them would retreat.
“The enemy is formidable. Some casualties are inevitable,” one investigator said, patting the woman reassuringly on the shoulder. “Fortunately, we’ve secured authorization to use an S-Class artifact. With it on our side, there’s a good chance this operation will succeed.”
As the investigator had said, for this capture operation, the SAI branches of Yonah and Dwight States had jointly submitted a request to Headquarters, which approved the deployment of the precious S-Class artifact: Brain in a Vat.
Imagine removing a person’s brain, preserving it in a tank of nutrient solution, and connecting its nerves to a supercomputer. The computer simulates everything a person would experience in daily life—temperature, humidity, color, touch, smell, sound…
When every sensation is indistinguishable from reality, how can you tell whether you are still a human being… or merely a brain suspended in a vat?
Is the world around you real?
Or is it nothing more than an illusion created by an extraordinary power?
The Brain in a Vat, confiscated from an underground research facility, was precisely such a tragic existence.
It was the brain of someone who had been completely deceived by an artificial reality, forever living inside a fabricated world.
This brain possessed supernatural powers.
It should have died long ago, but the illusion convinced it that it was still alive. Believing itself to be living, it defied the natural order and continued to “exist,” becoming a monster suspended somewhere between life and death.
With the Brain in a Vat as its center, every intelligent being that entered within a five-meter radius would be drawn into its illusion, losing all ability to act.
The term “being” here referred not only to humans and other conventional lifeforms, but also to abnormal existences such as monsters, demons, ghosts, and the like.
Naturally, Gary also fell within the range of beings the Brain in a Vat could capture.
The artifact itself was enormous. The supercomputer connected to it consisted of forty computing cabinets and eight network cabinets, occupying roughly sixty square meters. Every transport required the use of extremely expensive spatial artifacts.
Moreover, the Brain in a Vat was exceedingly fragile. Destroying either the supercomputer or the life-support apparatus surrounding the brain would permanently ruin the artifact.
For that reason, Headquarters approved its deployment only when dealing with the most dangerous and irredeemably vicious enemies.
With a weapon like that brought to bear…
Surely capturing a mere serial killer wouldn’t be impossible.
Before the operation began, in order to reassure everyone, a tarot reader took out a deck of cards and, under the watchful eyes of the entire team, performed a solemn divination.
The question posed in the reader’s mind was:
“Will Fake Gary be captured by the Brain in a Vat?”
The card drawn was Major Arcana XII — The Hanged Man (Upright).
Its meaning was that the seeker’s desired outcome would ultimately come to pass, but the path toward it would be filled with hardship and danger, demanding considerable sacrifice.
When they saw the result, everyone finally relaxed.
The tarot reader was renowned throughout several neighboring states for the remarkable accuracy of their divinations.
Since the cards had foretold that Fake Gary would be captured, today’s operation was surely destined to succeed…
And if success required the deaths of more investigators, so be it.
Their sacrifice would ensure that countless innocent people would never have to make the same sacrifice in the future.
The tarot reading proved frighteningly accurate.
Fake Gary came with overwhelming ferocity.
During his flight, he slaughtered several investigators in succession, his strength increasing dramatically with every kill. Compared with the monster from a year earlier, he was on an entirely different level.
Even with a carefully prepared trap designed specifically for him, the investigators found themselves completely overwhelmed when faced with such an intelligent, ruthless, bloodthirsty opponent.
A brutal battle unlike anything they had ever experienced erupted.
The most terrifying part was that the investigators had limited stamina, limited artifacts, and only one life.
Gary, on the other hand, grew stronger through every act of killing.
He could resurrect endlessly.
The longer the battle continued, the more powerful he became.
In the end, three investigators stepped forward voluntarily to serve as bait.
At the cost of their own lives, they lured Fake Gary to the location of the teleportation array.
Seizing the opportunity, the remaining investigators activated the formation, instantly transporting Gary to the dining area of the campground…
…where the Brain in a Vat had been hidden.
The illusion projected by the Brain in a Vat expanded outward.
In an instant, it seized Gary’s consciousness.
One moment, Fake Gary was drenched in blood, laughing wildly as he slaughtered everyone in sight.
The next…
It was as though his soul had been ripped away.
He closed his eyes and collapsed limply to the ground. His upturned face relaxed, and the bloodstained corners of his lips curled into a faint smile, as if he had fallen into a pleasant dream. Even the savage, bloodthirsty aura surrounding him seemed to fade considerably.
“It’s finally over…”
After confirming that the target had been captured, the battered investigators emerged from every corner of the campground, supporting one another as they walked.
The operation had succeeded.
Everyone should have been celebrating.
Yet a glance around them was enough to extinguish that joy. Their companions—people who had been laughing and chatting only a short while ago—now lay scattered across the ground as lifeless corpses.
A heavy sense of grief settled over them.
“The rescue helicopters will be here soon. Hang in there, everyone. If anyone still has healing artifacts left, please use them on the seriously wounded—”
Before the team leader could finish speaking, an agonizing pain exploded through his chest.
His eyes widened.
In disbelief, he looked down.
A gleaming dagger had somehow pierced straight through his chest, its pristine blade emerging from his back. Slowly, the knife drew downward, carving open an ever-widening wound.
“Ugh… cough—!”
The leader spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed uncontrollably to the ground.
Reflected in his rapidly dimming eyes was the face of someone he knew all too well.
Locke.
Just moments ago, the two of them had fought side by side against Fake Gary.
And now…
Why was Locke’s weapon buried in his chest?
As blood poured from the fatal wound, the light quickly faded from the leader’s eyes.
He died without ever learning the answer.
That answer, however, was revealed only moments later.
After killing the team leader with a single strike—and casually destroying the communication device in his hand—”Locke” turned to face the remaining investigators.
With a lazy stretch, he reached up and casually peeled away the hardened, cracked layer of clay covering his face.
“Phew…”
A familiar smile spread across his lips.
“Using my own face is so much more comfortable.”
Chunks of hardened clay crumbled away with a soft patter.
As they fell, the man’s facial features, complexion, and build changed with them.
By the time he lowered his hand, “Locke” had an entirely different face—the face every investigator present knew all too well.
Only a few minutes earlier, they had been risking their lives trying to kill him…
Or rather, his duplicate.
Now, the real Gary stood before them, a bloodstained dagger in hand. His posture was relaxed, his expression calm as he looked over the surviving investigators.
His lips parted slightly, and he asked, with impeccable politeness,
“I’m in rather a hurry—I have somewhere else to be.”
“Would you mind dying a little faster?”
Those words became the last thing anyone there ever remembered.
…
“In order to avoid arousing Fake Gary’s suspicion, the Dwight State investigators who had originally been tracking him, along with the municipal police from Sunken and Veska, stayed on the perimeter and didn’t participate in the ambush. By the time they realized something had gone wrong and rushed to Emerald Lake Camp…”
“…the place was already a slaughterhouse.”
Everyone was dead.
The campers.
The investigators.
Even the rescue team that had hurried to the campground after receiving the distress call.
The police discovered countless bodies scattered throughout the campground and the abandoned villa nearby.
So much blood had flowed from the corpses that it stained the entire campground red.
The Brain in a Vat had also been destroyed.
Someone had thrown a stone from a distance, shattering the glass enclosure surrounding the brain. The nutrient solution spilled across the floor, and the brain—which had clung to its unnatural existence for who knew how long—finally collapsed into a putrid mass of flesh amid the broken glass.
As for the Fake Gary who should have been trapped inside the illusion…
Like the original body lying at the bottom of Emerald Lake…
He had vanished without a trace.
“…The municipal officer told me the rescue team flew in by helicopter,” Mike continued. “But every member of the rescue crew was found dead at the campground. There was no sign of the helicopter or its pilot. The investigators’ supernatural artifacts disappeared too.”
After recounting everything in one breath, Mike paused.
When he spoke again, his voice had become noticeably more solemn.
“Everly…”
“Be careful.”
“I think Gary’s next destination…”
“…is you.”