musicians of old

Chapter 857 Moonlight Night
"Record: Suspected 'shelter' location ahead, uncontrolled area, newly added, river terrain, temporary number D-29-016."

"Effective range assessment: Moderate. Water area: from 50 meters upstream to 170 meters downstream; land area: extending approximately 30 meters from the south bank and the north bank."

"North bank, none."

"The control of 'Jin's' secret aura cannot extend to the north bank. The rules have broken down severely again. Don't go there. Go around from the south."

The voices of the four Special Patrol investigators could be heard through their masks.

These people, including their faces and entire bodies, were covered in dirty and tightly sealed clothes and masks. Their tone was filled with suppressed anxiety. One of them tightly clutched a folded card book that looked like a "signature document" and kept it open, with sharp, secret symbols jumping wildly inside, reflecting the eerie dark green light of the sky.

"An unofficially controlled shelter? I wonder if it's run by a 'group' or an 'individual'. It's so large, it's a bit strange," someone in the group muttered.

"Pay attention to the boundary decay, record the nearby terrain and features, and maintain vigilance around the perimeter when approaching," another, more composed voice reminded them. It was the team leader among the four investigators.

The man knelt on one knee on the muddy bank, quickly sketching on a waterproof logbook with a specially made metal pen whose tip seemed to glow slightly, occasionally glancing down at the river in the distance where a layer of colorful "oil film" floated.

And, a small white house, barely visible in the sickly light.

The captain paused, his voice lowering, and added, "Don't rush in, but don't stray too far either. Go that way. Keep the land area within 30 to 50 meters. Any further and the pollution from 'Noon Moon' will become uncontrollable."

"A peach-pink 'border'? Or purplish-red? Or dark green?" After getting a little closer, one of the investigators squinted.

“You can’t see anything like this, use a ‘filter’.” The other person shook his head.

Even at night, the concentration of "color" ahead is still frighteningly high.

Visual observation and the search for clues based on inspiration are both severely distorted.

If you need to look at something with the intention of drawing conclusions, it must be verified through multiple "cognitive filters".

Someone took out a soft, black object from the box, which looked like a fragment of a fishing net or something similar.

But as soon as they got close to his face, these things seemed to come alive and drilled directly into his eyeballs!

"Hiss hiss hiss hiss."

After convulsing for a while, the man's eyeballs became swollen and bloodshot, with some strange light. He managed to calm down and used this to observe what was in front of him for a while before pulling the living creatures out of his eyeballs, leaving his face covered in blood. He inevitably convulsed again for a while.

"It is indeed a small house and a river, with a pink border. There should be living people inside, not something else."

"Damn it, how did it get to this point!" the investigator stammered, then muttered a curse under his breath. "Every time I come out, it feels like my brain is being ripped out and rubbed on a steel wool pad! The more 'filters' I use, the less certain I am about what I'm seeing."

“Uncertainty is good.” The captain didn’t even look up. “‘Confirmation’ is often the precursor to collapse. Staying skeptical is the only way to survive longer. Poor rookie.”

Previous investigators, though hard-working, could never have done this. This kid hasn't experienced a normal investigator's life for more than a few days. The captain sighed inwardly after saying this.

I don't know why the world has suddenly become like this.

Whenever I think about everything that has happened recently, it's like experiencing a real and vivid nightmare; the terror seeps into my bones and makes me shudder with fear.

In the distant sky, a giant, dark green moon, covered in wrinkles and slime, hangs silently. It appears to be fifteen to twenty times larger than the ordinary sun, filling half of the sky and casting a cool yet strangely life-like glow that dyes everything a bluish-green hue as if it were soaked in preservative solution.

Bathed in this light, the entire sky of the world appears deep and oily. Looking out, one sees deep purple holes, dark green bulges, milky white serpentine vortices, and dazzlingly bright aurora-like wisps. Everything flows and breaks silently, sometimes even "dripping" down.

The landforms such as mountains, rivers, plains, swamps, and oceans are still there, and there are also areas that resemble "urban ruins". However, there are no similar features to any other region or continent. These places are sometimes quiet, and sometimes very "noisy". For example, in the steel skeleton that the survey team came from, there are colorful, capillary-like viscous threads that emit a low hum in sync with the environment.

The air is perpetually filled with a complex and unsettling fragrance—sweet like overripe fruit, mixed with the metallic odor of rust, the sharpness of disinfectant, and an indescribable putrid smell, as if from the deep sea or an ancient tomb. Colorful pollen and spores drift slowly through the air, like conscious dust.

Looking back on this world
It should be counted from the night the 40th Harvest Arts Festival ended, when an unknown dark red line appeared on the horizon, and about ten days later...
The sun suddenly set at noon.

At the same time, a dark green moon rose. Above the dark red vertical line on the distant horizon, a large mass of colorful liquid was "pouring out" and quickly spread outwards.

Soon, the world became like this.

Are those who are immersed in those garish colors "dead"? No one can say for sure. Perhaps they have undergone "melting," "intercepting," "grafting," or some other unknown change that is more terrifying than death and cannot be described in words. For now, we can only call them "dead."

More than 99% of people died directly in this way, and more than 99% of the remaining people died in succession over a period of time. It is impossible to know whether the total number of living people in the world is now six figures.

In short, there should be no such thing as an abnormal zone nowadays, or rather, the whole world is an abnormal zone.

Or to be more precise, only the danger level of "night" is now barely close to the abnormal zone of the past, while daytime is a higher and purer taboo and an inescapable purgatory.

For example, initially, some people tried to figure out what was going on with that huge, dark green moon. They emerged from a high hill, preparing to set up a mystical altar to make some observations.

But within minutes, the group suddenly found their shadows "nailed" to the spot, unable to move with their bodies, and forcibly leaving would cause excruciating tearing pain.

They were forced to remain on that highland forever, their bodies gradually deteriorating until they became several "instruments" that projected solidified shadows, their flesh still retaining a putrid bluish-green hue.

This is just one of the many bizarre death cases in the first batch.

The light of the "noon moon" during the daytime is the most eerie and intense source of pollution and a cognitive distortion amplifier—once realized, everyone becomes a light-phobic insect.

No one may go out during the day; this is an ironclad rule.

Only at night.

The light of the "Noon Moon" will dim slightly at night, the colors of the world will no longer be so "highly saturated", abnormal sound and light phenomena will decrease, the phase criteria will become barely stable, and the ubiquitous, maddening background buzz will also weaken. A fragile, false, yet essential "order" will quietly return to some areas.

But instead comes a different kind of chill that seeps into the bone marrow and freezes the spirit, and "worms" that become active in the deep shadows—malicious rustling sounds that act not through the ears but directly on consciousness, luring life toward melting and distortion.

Nighttime is also a zone of madness. This “tranquility” is by no means a blessing, but rather a quicksand full of soft traps, luring survivors to lower their guard and be swallowed up by a deeper madness.

Therefore, even at night, in order to survive, people need to stay in "shelters," such as the more than ten "large control zones" designated by the remnants of the Special Patrol Department.

The remnants of leader Pogrerich, the dozen or so relatively larger and better preserved fragments of the destroyed "Blade," are the biggest reliance of the remnants of the Special Patrol Bureau in maintaining order. These core ritual objects used to set up "large controlled areas" are called "Raging Silver Fragments."

This group now resembles a besieged, disciplined, and more extreme army. Within the "controlled zone," they implement rationing and a uniform day-night schedule, and forcibly conscript all discovered resources and knowledgeable individuals, swiftly and severely executing those suspected of being possessed by the "worms."
"Only record boundary and landform features; do not enter unless absolutely necessary." After walking along the land area on the south bank of the river for a while, the survey team leader waved to stop them.

He had just looked up at the sky, and now he frowned in thought.

This night seems shorter than usual. He feels that the saturation of the "colors" is increasing, and he may not be able to get back to the nearest "controlled area" before daylight arrives.

In such situations, it is generally best to seek shelter in a nearby unofficial "shelter" during the day and wait for the next night, if one is available.

However, the "shelter" in front of us is unusually large.

On the one hand, he was concerned about the strength of the people or groups inside. If they were hostile to the intruders, a fatal conflict would definitely occur. On the other hand, it was not even certain whether there were 'people' inside.

Just as one side is unsure whether there are "living people" inside, if there are people inside, one is probably unsure whether the people coming from outside are "living people."

These past few days, everyone has been on the verge of a mental breakdown.

"Record quickly, then evacuate." After weighing the risks, the captain made the decision.

"Can we get back to the 'controlled area'?" someone asked worriedly.

"We're leaving in five minutes, so it should be barely manageable." The captain stared at the small white house bathed in sickly light. "I'm not confident about this place. Logically speaking, those 'shelters' maintained by individuals shouldn't be this big."

Whether it's a powerful, scattered individual with knowledge, or some other "thing," it's safer to notify superiors to allocate more personnel for contact and recruitment!