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

"I was already aware of this."

At that moment, the darkness within me erupted infinitely, absorbing all the light and gravity, almost collapsing into a black hole within me, swallowing up all my emotions.

I didn't feel anything unusual about myself, but if I looked closely at the Colonizer System's attribute panel, I would find that the "Death" trait was emitting a tangible black light, almost bursting out of the panel and existing independently in the real world.

“I was prepared the moment I arrived in Mineral Town. This was my last chance to enjoy some leisure time, and also my first step toward a free future. The years I wasted in the dazzling city taught me a lesson.”

"What's the reasoning?" Gray asked at just the right moment.

I said it with absolute certainty.

"No matter what stands in my way, I will crush it. Whether it's a murderous plot, a disaster, an eeriness, or a conspiracy, I will trample it all!"

"This town is my kingdom. If anyone wants to take this place away, then come and try. I will eliminate all threats, from the macro to the micro level, annihilating both armies and nations!"

"Isn't it just a ghost lurking in the town? Just watch, things that can't be seen by the public will never be seen by the public. I'm going to drag it out into the sunlight and expose it to the elements, so everyone can see what kind of ghostly place it is!"

Chapter 159 Final Preparations

Gray was stunned by my words and remained silent for a long time. Of course, I couldn't tell what his expression was from his swollen and dark face, so I'll just assume it was shock.

"Unbelievable..."

Gray suddenly clapped his hands, his voice full of admiration.

"I can't believe you, boss, would say something so shameful!"

Shut up! Who wants to argue with a delusional teenager like you! Don't you feel a little excited?

Enraged, I slapped him on the back of the head. "Then tell me, do you agree with the slogan 'Save the Earth'?"

Gray scratched his head: "It sounds nice, but I don't really take it seriously."

"why?"

Gray argued vehemently, "The Earth is so big, and there are so many people on it, why should I protect it? I can't find a reason for it."

"What a convenient excuse, 'When the sky falls, the tall ones hold it up.'" Where did this kid learn his sly attitude from?

"What if someone beats up your grandfather?"

Gray thought for a moment, touched the injury on his face, and said indignantly, "My grandpa beats me every day. If he gets beaten, I'll just watch the show first. Once I've calmed down, I'll beat the other person up too."

"...He really is my grandson. Do you know the difference?" I asked.

"I guess it's my inescapable duty. There are so many people on Earth who can protect us, but Grandpa got beaten up, I can't just stand by and do nothing, can I? If I don't step in, who will?"

“That’s right. So if this town faces a crisis, who do you think can take responsibility? Your grandfather or Muqi? Poppy or Lin?”

I said with dissatisfaction, "We're in a very critical situation now. Harris, who could have handled all of this, intends to solve the problem in his own way, but in my judgment, his approach is flawed!"

Gray asked curiously, "Boss Marcus, why do you say that?"

I glanced at him and said, "If Harris and Gotz had a way to solve the problem, why did they drag it out until now? Why did Harris only make a decision when Gotz was seriously injured?"

"You mean Harris can't solve the problem? Then he's not going to run away, is he?"

I sighed and said, "It's unlikely. As far as I know, they've already sacrificed two generations to solve this problem. If they could just ignore it, they would have left long ago. What I'm worried about is that Harris won't be able to solve this. His methods probably have huge hidden dangers. What do you think will happen if he fails? The town will collapse!"

I continued my analysis: "The best-case scenario is that Harris takes a desperate gamble and temporarily suppresses the problem. But what happens after that? If it erupts again, will Harris have any way to handle it? If suppression fails, who can salvage the situation?"

Gray gradually fell silent, then stretched out both hands, pointing at the two of us respectively.

"So it's just... the boss and me then?"

He gave a wry smile and said self-deprecatingly, "I never imagined that as insiders, the two of us would have to bear such a heavy responsibility."

I smiled and looked at him: "Do you regret it?"

A faint smile managed to be conveyed through Gray's swollen face.

"No regrets. If I don't do these things, am I supposed to leave them to Grandpa? I want to show him that I'm much more useful than that old drunkard!"

"Then let's start making a plan. Do you know why Batman, as a mere mortal, is invincible? It's because he's a master strategist with endless backup plans, allowing him to calmly face any crisis."

At this point, a knowing look appeared on Gray's face.

I continued, “This place is not only a secret base, but also where we plan our tactics. The tables and chairs we sit at are just as important as the weapons. Because here, we will arm our minds. To be a hero, you must learn to use your brain! Understand, Gerfred!”

"Got it! Wait... who exactly is Gerfred?!"

"Don't worry about the details!" I said with a smile. "Didn't your grandfather think what you did was just nonsense? Well then, let's go all the way and show them just how capable we really are!"

"Gelfred, final preparations! We need to get everything we might need ready!"

"Yes! Boss!"

…………

In the remote mountains, there stands a dilapidated wooden cabin. Weeds grow rampant outside the door, and countless vines climb the wooden walls, intertwine with the fence, and relentlessly erode any trace of human intervention.

This place is hidden deep within a dense forest, at the edge of a pool, on the boundary of a cliff, in a desolate abyss. It seems less designed for habitation and more for deterring people from exploring. Even if someone glimpses it while wandering through the mountains, they will not feel the slightest desire to investigate.

But now, two visitors have arrived here after a long absence.

Harris, carrying a police pistol, grabbed Gotz by the shoulder and half-carried him on his back, struggling to make his way through the mountains.

Gotz's complexion had clearly improved, but his wounds had not fully healed. Every step he took was accompanied by a grimacing expression, yet he stubbornly did not make a sound.

He collapsed to the ground once he entered the cabin, then struggled to sit up and watched Harris clean up the traces.

Harris wasn't wearing a police peaked cap; his hair was soaked with sweat and disheveled, covering his forehead.

"Gotz, what happened? Why did you fail!"

Gotz looked at him expressionlessly: "It was just an accident. Give me another chance, and I will definitely succeed."

“Again? Look at you now, you don’t even have half a chance!” Harris said angrily, but his voice trailed off as if he was afraid the insects and birds by the house would hear.

"The anomalies this year have reached their peak. I told you long ago that we must act together!"

Gotz fell silent, staring blankly at him, his voice betraying his helplessness: "Two people? Absolutely not... Haven't we paid enough? It's simply impossible there..."

Gotz's eyes seemed to have lost focus; nothing in the world could retain any color in his eyes.

“My father… Old Man Hook… has proven everything… and so has my foolishness back then… Hannah…”

Hearing these sorrowful names from him, Harris fell silent. He had always understood Gotz's predicament, but pain is not an emotion inherent in all humans. Often, only by experiencing suffering can one truly understand the suffering of others, and the end result is that sadness easily spreads but doesn't heal itself.

Harris stood in the dilapidated wooden hut, envying the ignorant yet persistent climbing ivy. Looking at the tormented Gotz, his plan gradually solidified.

He thought to himself.

"If there has to be an end, then let me be the one to bring it to a close."

Chapter 160 The Deceiver

Let's go back two days.

Gotz took deep breaths, as if trying to expel the unpleasant memories from his chest and lungs. The physical pain gradually transformed into mental exhaustion, slowly laying him down.

In his eyes, a faint, shimmering light, seemingly possessed by magic, appeared again under the yellow moonlight. In the open-air tunnel overgrown with thorns, a towering figure, swaying with countless limbs, emerged from the darkness at the bottom.

In the overwhelming stench, even the most sensitive hunting dogs couldn't detect anything amiss. The stench had transcended the limitations of the five senses, surging from the olfactory system to the central nervous system. The smell transformed into an overwhelming black shadow, a frantic roar, and a nauseating signal, obscuring all perception.

But this intense sensory clouding did not alleviate his pain. Even when he could not perceive the slightest trace of it, he could clearly sense the presence of that terrifying thing.

Because the body was facing the terrifying thing, the skin was invisibly stinging and cracking, as if every cell was screaming and crying out to get away.

Even though the eyes have lost their function, they feel immense water pressure gathering inside the pupils. With just the slightest shake, the glassy eyeballs will shatter.

His nerves began to malfunction and twist, and even his movements became uncoordinated, turning into a difficult process of half-kneeling and half-crawling. Along the way, a strange buzzing and roaring sound gradually intensified, causing his internal organs to resonate painfully with strange fluctuations.

Gots knew it was the roar of a terrifying creature. It was using its filthy vocal organs to summon companions from who-knows-where. Primal wildness prevailed in the moonlit night, singing an indescribable hymn.

This awakening was too sudden; Gots had not yet completed the entire sacrifice. Therefore, these terrifying anomalies swirled around him with unprecedented intensity.

Amidst this overwhelming madness, Goetz recalled the scene of his father taking him to visit old Yorkson for the first time.

…………

“I am from Providence.”

The tombstone, carved from black marble, bears a deeply engraved inscription, with no other markings. However, the base is paved with white granite, the stark contrast between black and white reflecting the contrasting inner world of the tomb's occupant.

The grave is hidden on a solitary island in the middle of a lagoon, halfway up the mountain. On a clear day, the reflection can be barely seen from the opposite shore.

However, instead of taking the shortest route by swimming across the lake, Father climbed to the top of the high Maders Mountain, plunging down a cliff face and clinging to the steep slope to reach this secluded and tranquil place.

Gotz remembers that his father didn't explain the arduous journey at all until he saw this tombstone, at which point he uttered his first words in a somber tone.

"He is a great but selfish man."

My father's disheveled hair and beard hadn't been groomed for a long time, making him look like an oddball from the deep mountains and wilderness, but he blended in perfectly with the equally wild mountains.

Then his father talked about many things, which young Gots couldn't understand at all.

It wasn't until he grew up that Gots realized these words weren't meant for him, but for those in the grave. What the living cannot bear, they entrust to the dead, regardless of whether what the dead seek is even a moment of peace after death—it's truly ironic.

"When old Yorkson brought us to this island, he assured us that we would have riches and honors. His confident demeanor was just like that of a con artist who had gathered all his strength to deceive people."

“We didn’t really trust him. We were just exhausted from escaping the Trust mines and we just followed our leader numbly. Like moths drawn to light, if you say there’s light there, I’ll follow you.”

"But we didn't have much hope. Old Yorkson wasn't exactly a mining expert. Admittedly, he had a wealth of knowledge and was exceptionally adept at handling social relationships. But in that inhumane mine, if you couldn't find any ore, you were destined to starve."

“We often watched him toil all day in a barren mine, sweating profusely but reaping nothing, only able to fall asleep with his belly tightly bound with a belt.”

"We, who had always been ostracized, decided to take care of this middle-aged man as much as we could. After all, we were just a group of robbers, prisoners of war, poachers, and homeless children, far from being a respectable association."

"Sure enough, we encountered an old member who matched the description. Old Yorkson introduced himself as a conman from the North who had been caught up in a political conspiracy and sentenced to life exile. The exile group then ran into slave traders, which added another layer of shackles to his identity."

A hint of nostalgia flickered in the father's eyes, as if he were standing before an old friend he hadn't seen for many years. This memory was likely a realm he hadn't touched in years.

"That initial period of mutual deception is truly heartbreaking."

After a brief moment of reminiscence, the father's face became extremely stiff. It seems everyone hopes to maintain a perfect image that will never be exposed, but once their true nature is revealed, a scene of tearing off the mask is inevitable.

"After setting up the hot spring mine, old Yorkson immediately began developing this lake mine. But it was from this point that we discovered there was a problem."

“During the development of this mine, there were constant incidents of miners disappearing. Those poor people were often obsessed with wealth or had ulterior motives, and they were the last ones to emerge from the mine. At some point, when no one was looking, this person would completely vanish from the world. At first, everyone just joked that they had probably made enough money and gone home.”

"But the idea of ​​making enough money is truly the biggest joke in the world."

"Soon, miners discovered them in the rock strata of the mine in the lake. Perhaps it was the moment a pickaxe struck, but a withered, ashen face emerged from the vein. They maintained a posture of extreme panic and resistance, as if in an instant, tons of sand and gravel had been poured over their heads, obliterating everything."