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Saddler, the high-and-mighty leader in the painting, remained shrouded in shadows, arrogantly looking down upon the intruder's futile rage.
Noah closed the heavy diary and set it aside.
He stood up and walked to Leon's side, offering no words of comfort.
Because he knew very well that against this kind of evil rooted in the marrow, anger was the cheapest and most useless emotion.
Action was the only answer.
"Let's go," Noah's voice was soft. "Our treasure hunt has only just begun."
Leon exhaled heavily.
He took one last look at that disgusting portrait and left the "mansion" that housed the history of a village's descent into corruption.
With that detailed map, their actions became highly purposeful.
They were no longer like headless flies, but had turned into two frighteningly efficient "demolition crews."
On the map, the path from the Village Chief's Manor to the Valley Altar passed several buildings circled in red ink by the Merchant.
Beside them was a thoughtful note: "Rich in supplies."
"Hey, look at this one." Leon shone his tactical flashlight on a mark on the map. "'Old warehouse, wooden crates on the second floor.' Sounds like it's saying 'come and get it'."
Following the map's guidance, they arrived at a dilapidated two-story warehouse. The warehouse door was locked with a rusty iron lock.
Leon didn't even bother looking for a key; he raised his shotgun and blasted the lock.
"Bang!"
Amidst the massive roar, the iron lock snapped.
The two entered cautiously, weapons raised. The warehouse was filled with clutter, and the air was thick with dust and the smell of rotting wood.
The first floor was empty, except for a few rats startled by the gunshot, squeaking as they scurried into dark corners.
They followed the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor.
Sure enough, in the corner, several waist-high wooden crates were neatly stacked.
Leon stepped forward and smashed one with his gun stock.
"Crack!"
The fragile wood shattered, revealing rows of shiny golden shotgun shells inside.
"Oh, Merry Christmas." Leon whistled and unceremoniously swept all the shells into his ammo pouch.
Noah, in another crate, found a well-sealed First Aid Spray and several dried Green Herbs.
For the next half hour, the two became the most professional Incarnations of "scavengers," clearing out every resource point marked on the map.
Under a bed in a residential house, they found a small pouch of clinking Pesetas.
In the attic of another house, they discovered a box of handgun ammo.
Even at the bottom of a dry well, following the map's guidance, they found an old ring set with a red gemstone.
This thorough, leave-nothing-behind method of looting greatly eased their tense nerves and filled their backpacks at a visible rate.
By the time they left the village area and set foot on the mountain path to the Abandoned Factory, both were in peak condition.
"I'm starting to like that mysterious Merchant a bit." Leon weighed his heavy backpack, a satisfied smile on his face. "He should write guides for game companies; it would definitely be a bestseller."
"As long as we can see him again and sell these 'goodies' to him," Noah reminded him.
The mountain path was rugged, and the night was deep.
When a cluster of buildings made of rusty sheet metal and grayish-black brick walls appeared in their sight, they knew they had arrived.
Abandoned Factory.
On the map, this place was marked with a giant red exclamation point, with a note that simply said—"Danger."
Before they could even get close, a scalp-tingling sound—a mix of indistinct prayers and beast-like low growls—echoed from inside the factory.
"Uwah... wah... Glory to... plaga..."
"Looks like the party's already started." Leon pumped the shotgun's forend with a crisp "clack."
The two shared a look and, instead of rushing through the front gate, followed the map's guidance to circle around the side of the factory.
There, a section of the perimeter wall had partially collapsed due to years of neglect, creating a natural breach.
They silently climbed over the wall and entered the factory courtyard.
In the yard, about a dozen Villager were gathered around a roaring bonfire, fanatically performing some bizarre ritual.
Their movements were stiff and distorted, their mouths constantly repeating those meaningless syllables.
Under the firelight, their faces, flushed with fanaticism, looked exceptionally hideous.
Leon and Noah gave them no time to react.
"Bang!"
Leon's shotgun fired first, an orange flame flashing in the night. The massive buckshot instantly sent the two foremost Villager flying backward.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat!"
Noah's beretta followed immediately, the crisp shots ringing out in rapid succession. Every bullet accurately pierced a Villager's head.
Battle erupted in an instant!
The Villager, who were "praying" a second ago, showed no fear upon seeing their companions fall. Instead, they erupted in even more frenzied roars. Their bloodshot eyes fixed on the two intruders as they grabbed pitchforks, axes, and even rusty iron pipes, charging forward fearlessly.
"Uwah-wah-wah!"
Sharp screams pierced the night sky.
Leon kicked away a lunging Villager and fired back, blasting another who tried to ambush him from the side. The modified shotgun showed incredible sustained firepower; every pump was accompanied by an enemy falling.
Noah was more agile, weaving between discarded machinery and pipes, his beretta acting like a death toll.
His marksmanship was fast, accurate, and ruthless, never wasting a single bullet.
However, these Villager were more troublesome than the ones they had encountered before.
A Villager shot in the head by Noah had his neck burst open with a spray of flesh the moment he fell. A hideous, centipede-like parasite, waving sickle-shaped appendages, crawled out of the severed neck, let out a sharp hiss, and lunged at Noah again!
"Watch out for their 'heads'!" Leon roared, blasting the mid-air parasite to pieces with one shot.
The battle scene instantly became bloody and bizarre.
Back to back, the two formed a small defensive perimeter, dealing with enemies swarming from all directions. They no longer aimed for instant kills but prioritized attacking the enemies' legs to break their mobility before calmly delivering the fatal blow.
Gunshots, roars, and the clanging of metal echoed throughout the Abandoned Factory.
Ten minutes later.
When the last Villager was run through the chest by Noah with an iron pipe picked up from the ground, the entire factory finally returned to a dead silence.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and gunpowder.
"Huff... huff..." Leon leaned against a rusty machine, panting heavily.
He looked at the corpses littering the ground and the still-twitching remains of the parasites, cursing, "These bastards are getting harder and harder to deal with."
Noah didn't speak, only silently swapped in a new magazine. His exertion was also significant.
After a brief rest, the second stage of "work" began.
"Alright, archaeology time." Leon pulled a half-meter-long crowbar with a hook on the end from a pile of scrap, weighed it in his hand, and gave a malicious smile.
With practiced ease, the two began a carpet-style "excavation" of the entire factory.
Offices, storage rooms, tool sheds—all the locked doors and cabinets in the factory were like paper before that sturdy crowbar.
"Crack!"
A metal storage locker was pried open, and several boxes of brand-new submachine gun ammo rolled out.
"Ours."
"Bang!"
A locked door was kicked open, and a small pouch of gold coins sat on the table.
"Ours too."
They even found two powerful Frag Grenades under a mattress in a break room.
The two's mood gradually became cheerful during this process of "unboxing." It felt like playing a treasure hunt game with rich rewards; every act of violent demolition could bring a surprise.
Finally, their target was locked on the manager's office on the second floor.
This office door was a heavy solid wood door, and the lock was a brass lock far more Advanced than in other rooms. But this still couldn't stop them.
Leon kicked once, twice, three times... On the fourth powerful kick, the lock shattered, and the door crashed inward.
The office furnishings were simple: a desk, a filing cabinet, and a... waist-high black safe against the wall.
"Bingo!" Leon let out a loud whistle.
The two walked up to the safe. It was an old-fashioned dial combination safe; cracking it would take a lot of time.
But they had a more direct way.
Leon looked at the crowbar in his hand, then at the sturdy safe, and finally handed the crowbar to Noah.
Noah took the crowbar, found the gap between the safe door and the body, and slammed the tip of the crowbar in.
"Creeeak... groan..."
The safe made a tooth-aching sound of twisting metal. The sturdy steel plate actually began to slowly deform under Noah's inhuman strength.
"Bang!"
With a loud noise, the safe door was pried open, leaving a huge gap.
The two leaned in, shining their flashlights inside.
In that instant, a dazzling light burst from the gap.
Noah reached in and took out the items one by one.
First was a palm-sized half of a Hexagonal Relief made of bronze. It was carved with intricate patterns, clearly a part of the Church of Light's emblem.
Next were several dazzling gemstones.
Two rubies burning like fire.
One sapphire as pure as the deep sea.
And one emerald as green as the heart of a forest.
Finally, Noah pulled out an extremely luxurious, almost blindingly bright Jeweled Mask. The entire mask was made of gold, studded with tiny diamonds and various gemstones, with two large purple crystals set in the eye sockets.
Leon's mouth hung open wide enough to fit a fist. He stared blankly at the items in Noah's hands, and only after a long while did he squeeze out a sentence: "Where... where did they get all this good stuff?"
"Who cares?" Noah raised an eyebrow smugly. "It's ours now."
Looking at the pile of priceless loot before them, they fell into a pleasant dilemma.
After some discussion, they quickly reached a consensus.
This flashy Jeweled Mask was too conspicuous and had no practical use, so they decided to sell it for cash the next time they saw the Merchant.
The two rubies—one for each, a fair split.
But the problem arose with the unique sapphire and emerald.
"I like blue," Noah simply and directly stated his request.
"Hey, I like blue too," Leon immediately countered. "Blue matches my eyes."
They stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
"Fine, let's settle this the old-fashioned way," Leon suggested.
Noah nodded.
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
Both threw their hands out at the same time.
Leon threw paper.
Noah threw scissors.
Leon: "..."
He watched Noah expressionlessly put the beautiful sapphire into his pocket and push the emerald toward him, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions.
"I hope... Ada will like emeralds..." He picked up the emerald and muttered softly.
With the loot divided, the two packed the half Hexagonal Relief and left the factory, which had been picked clean.
They continued south, following the map's guidance.
After passing through a sparse woods, the deafening sound of water came from ahead.
They came to the edge of a cliff. A turbulent stream converged here into a small waterfall, crashing against the rocks below with a loud roar. On a cliff face beside the waterfall was a cave half-hidden by vines. At the cave entrance stood a crude stone altar.
This was the Valley Altar.
The two shared a look and carefully made their way down a slippery path to the cave entrance.
The cave was deep and pitch black, making it impossible to see inside. On the stone wall at the entrance was a very obvious hexagonal indentation.
Noah stepped forward, took out the half-relief they had just gotten from the safe, and pressed it into the indentation.
"Click."
The relief fit perfectly into half of the indentation, but the stone door remained motionless.
Leon leaned in to look and slapped his forehead.
"Look at that, we have to find the other half..."
He let out a long sigh and complained in an extremely helpless tone.
"Why do I feel like I'm not on a rescue mission, but playing goddamn Tomb Raider?"
Noah turned his head and looked at him.
"You've played quite a lot of games."
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