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

"What you said does make some sense..."

I scratched my head awkwardly, then handed him a dry towel so he could dry his hair and body from the rain.

But Stuart seemed particularly agitated and rejected my offer, grabbing my arm anxiously and saying, "Sheriff, it's my turn to tell you what happened! This is extremely urgent, and I had no choice but to come here to find you in the middle of the night!"

He suddenly stood up, towering over me by half a head, and looked pitiful and helpless.

"I woke up in the middle of the night and found that Elliott was gone! God help me, where could someone as delicate as her have gone on such a rainy night? How could she possibly withstand the cold rain!"

Stuart Lake's blue eyes were filled with worry. "Even I can't handle this kind of weather. She'll definitely prick her hand in the thorns, break her leg in some ditch, or smash her head under the roof! I can't even imagine that scene. My fiancée might be crying my name in some unknown mountain stream right now, hoping someone can rescue her from her desperate situation—and I can't do anything for her!"

I stopped his outpouring of emotions and continued, "Wait a minute, when exactly did you discover she was missing?"

"When I woke up just now, the window was open, and she had disappeared!"

I stroked my chin and asked, "Did you ask Mr. Dart? There's no way the boss wouldn't know anything..."

Stuart scratched his head in frustration: "I asked! I asked! The boss said that the burly man from the docks came in the middle of the night and drank heavily downstairs. He kept him company all night and never saw anyone leave through the main gate!"

...Although I've heard about it for a long time, could this be the kind of stormy night that Boss Dart was talking about, the one that caused Zack's sea phobia to completely erupt?

I glanced at the quiet and warm environment in the room, grabbed my coat from the bedside, and officially bid farewell to this unfinished sleep.

"Come on, let's go back to the tavern. This matter needs further investigation!"

"That's great, Sheriff! You're really willing to help me!"

I sighed inwardly.

"No, I hereby announce that ****** has officially intervened in the investigation."

Chapter 597 It's time to take your medicine.

The windows of the empty room were abruptly wide open, letting in a violent howl of cold wind, and rain poured in relentlessly, soaking the wooden floors of the inn's second floor. One can only imagine how distressed Boss Dart must feel when he saw this, knowing his losses had only increased...

Stuart and I were soaking wet from walking in the heavy rain, so we stood outside in the hallway to talk and didn't rush in.

"Was this the scene when you woke up?"

The man, soaked to the bone, replied, "Yes... I was severely seasick during the day, so I fell asleep early today and slept very soundly. I don't even remember when it started raining or when the window was opened..."

I surveyed the chaotic scene in the room, stepped aside to avoid a trail of water, and then asked, "So you have no recollection of Miss Elliott's disappearance?"

Stuart shook his head: "Absolutely not... I only remember that before I lay down on the bed, she was sitting at her desk looking through today's notes, saying she needed to organize some thoughts, and told me to go to sleep and not worry about her..."

At this point, he angrily pounded the doorframe, "I shouldn't have fallen asleep so early! How could I have fallen asleep as soon as I got into bed! I never imagined she would disappear!"

I patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be so quick to lose heart. First, describe your fiancée's personality. Is she the kind of person who would leave without saying goodbye?"

Stuart looked thoughtful, staring somewhat blankly at the dark window.

“You’ve met Elliott yourself. Her personality is such that you can read her mind at a glance; there’s nothing she could possibly be hiding from me…”

...Are you serious? In this tavern, besides the drunken Zack, you're the most ignorant person, don't you believe it?

I tried to guide him out of his blind arrogance: "No, in order to find clues about Elliott, think about it again. Disappearances often have warning signs. Has she been behaving strangely lately?"

"There doesn't seem to be anything unusual, but I feel like she's been preoccupied lately. Maybe the pressure of being a reporter is too much and she's been having trouble sleeping. I've been trying to comfort her, but it's not like she should just leave without saying goodbye..."

"I should have stayed up earlier than she did," Stuart said worriedly. "I'm worried something might have happened to her, Sheriff! Can we go look for her together?"

I reached out to stop him and stepped into the room, my shoes leaving clear footprints on a wet piece of paper on the floor as I stepped into the flowing rainwater.

"Let's first sort out our thoughts."

I walked across the room to the bedside and looked towards the opposite wall. My gaze fell on a table with papers and pens scattered about. "The last time I saw Elliott before going to sleep was in this spot. She was flipping through her notes from today's conversation, and she wasn't going to sleep. Right?"

"Yes."

After overcoming his initial panic, Stuart was now calmer and described details with objectivity and impartiality, without adding emotional embellishment. His ability to accurately grasp what needed to be brief and what needed to be detailed brought me a lot of convenience.

That said, I've always disliked those loud and dramatic victims in horror movies. They seem to suffer mental trauma and become withdrawn after experiencing misfortune, as if they are the most wronged person in the world and that the world doesn't deserve their kindness. They often do some crazy things that ruin the whole team.

Honestly, if blaming heaven and earth, doubting the world, and harming others and oneself can be considered reasonable acts of grief, then why is it that being calm, trusting the law, and doing one's best to restore the truth is not considered respecting the victims?

"Then you wake up and Elliott has disappeared. You only see the window open, and the surroundings are exactly as they appear?"

Stuart pondered for a moment, "Yes...and there's no sign of her lying on the bed..."

I nodded. "Judging from the evidence at the scene, it's been about three hours since the incident. I just asked Mr. Dart, and the last time he saw Elliot go downstairs to get a glass of water was around the same time you fell asleep. I believe her personal safety was not threatened..."

But my assessment didn't put Stuart at ease. "Sheriff, I still think there's something wrong! Who would run outside in such a storm? I think Elliott is in danger!"

"Danger? Perhaps."

I frowned at him and replied, "I only said that she wasn't being coerced, but that doesn't mean she's not in danger. As for why I made that judgment..."

Stuart eagerly awaited a reason from me that would put his mind at ease, but after hesitating for a long time, I looked at him with a complicated expression and hesitated to speak.

"Sheriff, please tell me! Do you know where Elliott went? I'll only feel at ease if I know!"

I sighed, and when I heard the tavern door downstairs open and the noise of wind and rain pouring in, I finally said, "I was just afraid you would be even more worried if you heard that—since you want to know the details, I won't stop you."

I went to the bedside and mimicked his actions before falling asleep. "Did you lie in bed like this, watching your fiancée turn the pages of a book, take notes, and fall asleep to the soft sound of the pen nib scratching the white paper?"

"Yes!"

"No, that's not right."

I immediately denied it, making a gesture as if I were holding a cup, "You took a sip of the water in the cup, and that's when you started feeling your head getting heavier and your eyelids getting heavier."

Stuart hesitated and said, "I seem to have that impression... but it's very vague... Marcus, how did you know?"

I sighed. "You didn't even react to this 'it's time for Dalang to take his medicine' drama... So let me ask you, where's the cup?"

"Yeah...where's the cup?" Stuart looked completely bewildered, as if he had just woken up. Then his expression changed drastically, as if a bolt of lightning had struck him directly, and his body trembled as if he had typhoid fever.

"Impossible... Elliott wouldn't do that..."

I sighed.

"That's why I said, Elliott wanted to leave on his own, and there's no use in you worrying about it here."

This woman never disappoints. First, she gave her best friend laxatives, then she gave her fiancé sleeping pills, all to fulfill her dream of becoming a journalist. I don't know whether to praise her for being daring or criticize her for being crazy. I have to give this operation a 94 out of 100. Don't ask me why, because I stepped on the gas on the highway and got 6 points deducted for speeding.

“There’s no time for existential doubt, sir. Miss Elliott wasn’t coerced, but what she’s doing isn’t exactly safe. We should hurry and find her. How’s the work I asked you to do going?”

My sudden question startled Stuart, but he quickly realized I wasn't asking him. The man turned his gaze behind him, probably thinking that Boss Dart or someone else would walk in through the door and answer my question.

But after looking for a long time, he found nothing. Instead, a dark shadow nimbly leaped in through the open window and landed directly on the ground without splashing a single extra drop of water...

“Boss Marcus, I found a string of women’s shoe prints on the roof tiles outside the eaves. Your guess should be right. Oh, by the way, I’ve brought what you asked for.”

Gray was also soaked through by the rain, his hair disheveled like a drowned rat, but his vibrant energy was particularly striking, and he stared intently at me.

I clapped my hands. "Great! Following the clues you found, let's go see what she's looking for."

Stuart grabbed my arm nervously. "Sheriff, what have you found out? You're all acting so secretive, and there's the shopkeeper downstairs with his furrowed brow and the drunken sailor. I have a feeling something's wrong..."

I patted him on the shoulder encouragingly and said, "Be confident, and drop the word 'seems'."

"what?"

"Just follow us. I've already said that today is an investigation by ********. Don't be surprised by anything you see tonight. Understand?"

Now that Gray has arrived, it means my worst fears have finally come true, and this unexpected event will likely originate from the turbulent sea tonight…

Chapter 598 The Strange Tales of Mineral Town Harbor (Part 1)

Now that Gray has arrived as planned, tonight's commotion will be even less lonely—I thought to myself, listening to the strange noises coming from downstairs.

The tavern hall was now empty except for Zack, who was dead drunk. The once energetic and muscular man now had bloodshot eyes, was panting heavily, and kept sweeping the bottles off the table, trying to take his enemies down with him in a fight to the death.

The owner of the tavern, Dart, who used to be extremely concerned about the tavern's profits and losses, was silent at this moment, dutifully guarding behind the counter, producing bottle after bottle of wine as if by magic.

To better complete his work tonight, he even sent his own daughter, Lin, to Mrs. Lilia's chicken farm in advance to keep Poppy company.

Actually, I didn't want the innocent-hearted Lin to see what was happening before me.

Because no matter how you look at it, the Zack in front of you is no longer the person you usually know.

His muscles were tense, sweat beaded on his forehead, and bulging veins stood out on his skin. His breathing was also unusually uncoordinated, as if he were inhaling a suffocating stream of heat at thousands of degrees Celsius, accompanied by unbearable pain.

Even a layman like me can see that Zack, who is drinking heavily, is not doing so out of a fascination with alcohol—fascination only leads to mental numbing and idiocy, and it is impossible for his eyes to be shining with such a complex light.

What he did was more like someone facing indescribable terror, trying every means to get drunk so that their nerves, stretched to the limit, could have a chance to breathe.

As our group hurried down to the second floor and rushed through the tavern's lobby, Gray walked straight through without looking to either side, quickly reaching the front door with the undisguised honesty of a young man.

A hint of pity crossed Stuart's not-so-handsome face, whether from concern for his fiancée's fate or from the melancholy of others, it was hard to tell. He exchanged glances with Boss Dart, both nodding slightly, and then said nothing more.

Listening to the deafening sound of rain outside, I hesitated for three seconds about whether to open the umbrella, but then decisively gave up on such a futile struggle.

“Marcus, things aren’t safe outside. Be careful.” Boss Dart said calmly, but his complex gaze never left Zack—at this moment, I didn’t notice that besides the undisguised concern in Boss Dart’s eyes, there was also a hint of barely perceptible vigilance…

I shrugged and sighed, "Thanks, boss, I know what I'm doing. By the way, don't worry so much about Zack, this storm will pass soon, right?"

Hearing our conversation, Gray, who had already rushed to the door, suddenly turned back, as if remembering something, and took something out of his pocket.

"Boss! Speaking of this... I ran into Lady Lilia on my way out of the blacksmith shop. She asked me to bring this to you, and her instructions were similar to what the boss said, so I won't go into details."

Hmm? This is... the King's Soul First Flame Ring?

A cold, sharp ring, yet shimmering with a faint firelight, was placed in my hand. An unknown power flowed from the ring, dispelling some of the chill carried by the rain.

But what could possibly make Lady Lilia insist on giving me the ring on such a rainy day...?

I cast a surprised glance at Boss Dart, but the cunning middle-aged man suddenly fell silent, as if his instructions were just an illusion.

…………

A powerful storm may be making its way onto the island right now, so the wind direction is shifting from left to right, and from front to back, swirling up debris and hindering our progress.

Going out in such a stormy weather is extremely unwise, and for someone to make the decision to go out in such a weather is even more unusual.

For example, our search for Eliot, Lady Lilia's desire to deliver the ring, and the reasons that drove Eliot to go out despite everything...

The tangled debris flew about, and the fierce rain splashed everywhere, so we had no choice but to form a single file, with the leader clearing the way and moving forward inch by inch with heavy steps. Under these circumstances, we had no chance of finding even a single clue—the torrential rain and strong winds had already crumpled all traces into a ball and torn them apart in a washing machine.

All we can do is move forward with all our might, and in the face of natural disasters that cause great fear to mankind, we must repeatedly strengthen our resolve and focus on the place I suspect Elliott might be going—the port.

Everyone, including myself, was full of anticipation, thinking that once we reached the harbor bay, we would be able to get rid of the obstacles of branches, leaves, and rubble. But no one expected that the moment we successfully passed through Rose Square, an even more violent storm, now free from the obstruction and weakening of the buildings, would lash us out even more fiercely!

Stuart, the tallest among us, swayed in the gale and was unable to stop himself from falling backward, even with his arms hooked around the railing.