Bobbobovic froze in shock at the sudden transformation before his eyes, his brain struggling to comprehend what he was witnessing.
However, Richard naturally picked up the piece of paper from the ground. After glancing at it briefly, he muttered to himself, "So it was here all along. I wouldn’t have bothered searching if I’d known." He then turned to Bobbobovic and said, "What, you didn’t realize that the person sitting there was just a magical illusion?"
"I... I..." Bobbobovic finally understood why the old man’s responses were nonsensical. It was all a preset magical illusion with no intelligence, incapable of responding based on his questions.
Such a simple thing, and he hadn’t noticed it at all. It seemed he was truly blind.
Of course, he would never admit he was blind. Looking at Richard, he opened his mouth and said, "I... I did realize, of course. I just wanted to test how realistic it was. Anyway, what does the paper say?"
"The contents? Oh, what could it be." Richard said, "The other party wants to meet with us. Naturally, it lists the location of the meeting."
"North of the city, Little Rose Lake."
"Little Rose Lake? Isn’t that near Dead Branch Forest?" Bobbobovic recalled some geographical names from his investigation in Delan and spoke up, "I remember there seemed to be a graveyard near Dead Branch Forest. What kind of place is Little Rose Lake?"
"A bigger graveyard," Richard replied.
Bobbobovic’s expression instantly stiffened, "Really?"
"Of course, it’s true." Richard’s face showed no signs of joking, "That entire area is all graveyards, nothing else but graveyards."
"This..." Bobbobovic swallowed hard, "This gives me a really bad feeling. Are we still going to meet them?"
"We absolutely must," Richard said, his expression turning serious as he explained, "If they went through the trouble of sending this letter, it shows they know about us. We need to make contact with them, at the very least to understand their motives. Otherwise, we’ll be at a disadvantage, which could affect our plans to join the Truth Society."
Bobbobovic felt somewhat persuaded, and finally said, "Alright then."
"Actually, if you’re scared, I can go alone. You can just stay in the house, so we avoid any more strange people coming in," Richard offered thoughtfully after glancing at Bobbobovic.
Bobbobovic bristled at the suggestion, "Who’s scared! I’m not scared at all! This is being cautious! Do you understand caution?"
"Suit yourself then. Let’s go."
"Huh? We’re going now?"
"Why not? They arranged for us to meet now."
"Well... alright." Bobbobovic followed Richard towards the outside, and after a few steps, something occurred to him, "Wait! Hold on a moment. Let me grab a few more bottles of medicine to carry with me, just in case we run into trouble and run out. This isn’t because I’m scared, it’s just being cautious. Cautious."
"Perhaps you should make some other preparations too? Like eating something so you don’t get hungry, or drinking some water so you stay hydrated?"
"Now that you mention it, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea."
North of Delan City, Little Rose Lake.
The thoroughly prepared Bobbobovic and Richard arrived at the location.
The atmosphere here was rather eerie. The so-called Little Rose Lake had long since dried up, and the lakebed, spanning thousands of square meters, was full of cracked lines. In some corners, there was still some undried sludge and foul water sparking the disgust of mosquitoes and flies, which would burst into a buzzing sound resembling thunder if approached.
On the lakeshore, numerous tombstones were chaotically distributed:
Some were freshly erected, quite new, with some mourners’ not-completely-dried fresh flowers;
Some had been standing for who knows how long, with inscriptions blurred by years of wind and rain;
Others were broken in the middle—the upper halves were gone, and the lower halves were buried in the soil, suggesting that the deceased’s descendants had forgotten them—this represented a death more definitive than physical death or social death: death in memory, with the whole world no longer remembering the deceased’s existence.
Richard approached one such broken tombstone, squatted down, placed his hand on it, and the tombstone trembled slightly, separating from the soil, vaguely revealing the inscribed text: "Dake Noer... a respectable father... died..."
Richard pursed his lips as he read the text on the tombstone, while Bobbobovic looked around vigilantly, ultra cautious, as if an enemy could launch an attack from the surrounding darkness at any moment.
After staying alert for a while, Bobbobovic couldn’t hold back any longer and turned to Richard, who was still reading the tombstone, and asked, "Hey, where is this old guy who arranged to meet us? Why hasn’t he shown himself now that we are here?"
Pausing for a moment, Bobbobovic then grumbled, "Speaking of which, I hope it’s not because the old guy’s face is so dark that he’s already near us and we just can’t see him?"
"That’s a very cold joke," Richard commented dryly, stood up, looked around, and pointed towards a direction a hundred meters away, "Isn’t that light over there? Let’s go check it out."
Following the direction Richard pointed, Bobbobovic looked for a long while before finally seeing the light, slightly astonished, "Why is there light?"
"Three possibilities," Richard said, "First, the Gravekeeper’s Cottage. Second, a signal from the person who arranged to meet us."
"And the third option?" Bobbobovic, curious, pressed him when Richard paused.
"The third might be that the person who arranged to meet us is inside the Gravekeeper’s Cottage, sending us the signal."
Richard and Bobbobovic walked towards the distant light.
Drawing closer, they saw a house constructed of wood.
The house had a high roof to ward off evil spirits, and its walls were painted with white, blurry patterns and figures intended to drive off imagined Evil Spirits. A wooden post with many tied knots stood in front of the door—invoking the protection of gods. Indeed, it was a Gravekeeper’s Cottage.
The door of the cottage was slightly ajar, revealing a faint light inside—the light they had seen from afar.
Richard examined the small cottage briefly then, without hesitation, walked up to the door and gently pushed; the door opened, followed by a hoarse voice from inside, "Welcome."