The Secret Cult Chronicles of the Decaying Lake Manor

The servants had never seen the old man look like this before.

Some obeyed the order, while others tried to ask questions, but were met with glares from the Night's Watch.

Those who have been on the battlefield have such fierce eyes. Half a minute later, only Old Man Mo was left on the dock.

He saw everyone board the sailboat and sail away from the shore, then quickly walked to the wagon loaded with some cargo.

He untied the restless horses, slapped their rumps to drive them away, and then went to the other side to mount his own horse.

By this time, the humanoid creature was very close.

It was clear that he was interested in the draft horses that were leaving the dock.

At this point, the old man could clearly see the monster's appearance even without using his naked eye.

The monster-like humanoid's limbs dangled in mid-air, its head covered in shiny black hair, and two protruding compound eyes that filled the upper half of its face. Countless neatly arranged small eyes shimmered with an eerie emerald green light.

A grotesquely large mouth protruded from the middle of his nose and mouth, and it appeared to be stained with blood.

The old man pulled on the reins, and his horse reared up, then changed direction and galloped toward the side of the monster.

The watchman on horseback drew a revolver from his waist, skillfully deflected the hammer with his thumb, and aimed at the monster that was about to fly up to a draft horse.

"Look here, you wicked bastard!"

-----------------

George leaped down the last few steps and rushed into the narrow corridor of the servants' quarters.

"uncle!"

He saw Albert's back as he stood at the end of the corridor, talking to three or four young male and female servants.

"Go to the west side of the island to find Frederick, and then..."

Although the servants looked confused, they immediately turned around to carry out the order.

"Stop!" George shouted.

Albert turned around, his face full of surprise, then overjoyed: "George? You—did Fred find...?"

"Don't come near!"

George raised his hand to stop his smiling uncle from approaching, then took out a handkerchief from his pocket, covered his mouth and nose, and gritted his teeth, saying:

"Stop right there. Uncle, how many people have you been in contact with? Who did you meet before and after finding Fred's room?"

Albert was stunned by the barrage of questions and answered instinctively.

"I...couldn't find the butler, so I sent someone to the dock to ask Old Man Mo for directions. Then I ran into a few male servants on duty, so I sent them to—"

"Just these people?" George interrupted him, quickly calculating the chain of contact. "Who was the male servant you sent out to look for them?"

Albert shook his head blankly: "And Mrs. Patmer just passed by and asked me... about those men, and those who went to the island to find the gardener and the night watchman. Their names should be Tom, Allen, and... damn it, I can't remember..."

George felt a chill run down his spine; the contamination might have already spread, and from one infected person to the entire chain of people.

"Listen, Uncle, there might be a serious source of infection in Fred's room."

George took a deep breath, trying to calm his voice so that the servant behind him, who looked surprised and suspicious, wouldn't hear him.

"We must now prevent disease outbreaks."

Albert's eyes widened instantly: "A plague? This—"

George decisively interrupted, "You must isolate yourself immediately. Not a single servant you just came into contact with can be missed."

"I need you to gather them now and take them immediately to the row of rooms on the north side that are usually used to store miscellaneous items."

"The north-facing room?" Albert murmured repeatedly, seemingly not quite following George's train of thought.

"It's a certain distance from the main house, and it's a relatively independent space," George said very quickly.

"Give each of them a separate room, and make sure they don't come into contact with anyone. You yourself also need to go there now."

Albert opened his mouth, but perhaps the resolute look in George's eyes made him nod instinctively.

"I see."

The uncle turned around, grabbed several male servants behind him, and jogged away, even forgetting the decorum he was usually expected to maintain.

George didn't follow; he opened his spiritual vision.

Something resembling black mist was slowly dissipating in his field of vision as his uncle left, confirming his guess.

He turned to leave, but at the corner he almost bumped into Carson, who was rushing over with a male servant.

"Young Master!" Carson's expression was stern. "I heard—"

"Carson, there might be an outbreak of disease at the manor. I need you to do two things immediately." George grabbed the old butler's arm.

"First, you and Mrs. Hughes should immediately keep all the servants away from you, especially Mrs. Patmer."

"Second, have someone find some clean cotton cloth, fold it into multiple layers, soak it in vinegar or strong liquor, and then have all the servants cover their mouths and noses with these cloths—as a temporary protection."

Carson's expression grew increasingly serious as George recounted the events, and he nodded calmly after George finished speaking.

"Understood, young master. I will arrange it personally. And you…"

"I need to go to the living room. Those in the manor who know the inside story must discuss this immediately."

George released Carson and strode toward the stairs.

The atmosphere in the living room on the first floor was relatively calm.

Inspector Douglas and Miss Kelly were standing at the entrance to the living room when they saw George enter, and their eyes immediately turned to him.

After George nodded in greeting, he first walked toward Sybil in the living room.

"Sybil, go back to your room first," George said in a low voice. "Stay inside and don't come out or go near anyone—except me or the inspector."

Sybil didn't show any fear; her lips moved as if she wanted to ask Fred about it.

But George's overly stern gaze made her swallow her words.

"Okay." She nodded, glanced quickly at the old lady, then lifted her skirt and ran towards the stairs.

Only after Sybil's figure disappeared around the corner of the stairs did George turn around to face the people in the hall.

The old lady had already stood up, her eyes filled with worry: "George, what happened? Fred—"

"Grandmother, the situation is very complicated right now." George took a breath and looked at Inspector Douglas.

"Inspector, please speak first."

Douglas stepped forward, removed the conspicuous bowler hat from his hat, and held it in his hand, his tone somber and serious:

"I regret to inform you, ladies and gentlemen, that we are facing an extremely dangerous infectious disease. Mr. Frederick's room shows clear signs of infection, and some people on the estate may have been unknowingly exposed to the source of contamination."

Lawyer McGill's expression changed drastically: "A plague? How is that possible—"

"That's true, Mr. McGill. The most urgent thing right now is to isolate all those who may be infected to prevent the spread," Douglas said in a deep voice.

"Everyone here, I need you to minimize your movement. Any negligence now could have disastrous consequences."