Over two hours later, Alpina Regional Airport.
This small airport, primarily serving the local community and business travellers, welcomed a small business jet.
Amidst the crew's farewells, Ruboo and Madison, carrying backpacks containing the golden arms, disembarked. After leaving the airport, they hired a car and drove towards Alpina city centre, guided by the satnav.
After ten minutes or so, Ruboo and Madison arrived safely at their destination.
Alpina County had a total population of no more than twenty to thirty thousand. Excluding the towns, the city centre itself was home to barely ten thousand residents (in the United States' administrative divisions, a county is the level above a city).
Wandering about here, one could essentially see the entire place after walking just a few steps.
Although Fiona's divination had pinpointed the location of the Golden Arm spirit, the exact spot remained unclear due to the considerable distance involved, necessitating further investigation by Ruboo and Madison.
Having set out early, there was still some time before noon.
Eager to resolve the spirit's curse before nightfall brought fresh misfortune, Ruboo and his companion had no inclination to explore this town, so distinct in character from New Orleans. They set about their task with purpose.
Ruboo entered a convenience store, first purchasing a local map. While chatting with the proprietor at the till, he casually inquired:
"Boss, any strange legends around here?"
"Legends? The sort meant to frighten children?"
The portly middle-aged proprietor glanced at Ruboo and Madison beside him.
Assuming they were just another pair of city lovers seeking rural thrills, he chuckled:
"Serial killers, cults, forest spirits, aliens... Head to any backwater town and they'll regale you with similar horror tales."
The proprietor added pointedly, "Though sometimes they might not be entirely made up. Mind you, young folk like yourselves—fresh-faced, delicate-skinned city slickers with rather good looks—often make prime targets for those sinister entities."
Madison, idly browsing the shop's wares, scoffed dismissively: "Bring 'em on. I'll twist 'em into a ball and kick 'em like a football."
"Your girlfriend? She's a stunner!" The shopkeeper exclaimed, his double entendre directed at Ruboo.
Ruboo smiled but offered no reply.
Then he inquired, "Beyond these well-known legends, are there any newer tales? For instance, I once heard mention of a one-armed..."
"Enough!"
Before Ruboo could finish, the shopkeeper cut him off sharply.
His expression suddenly darkened. "If you wish to continue enjoying quality time with your girlfriend, stop prying into these matters. If I were you, I'd drive around the area a few times, sample some local wine, pick up some handicrafts, or even have a quick roll in some secluded corner before getting the hell out of here. Don't go courting death by playing dangerous games."
Ruboo's eyes flickered, about to ask more, but the proprietor was already firmly ushering them out.
Back on the street with the map in hand, Ruboo turned to Madison. "This place is definitely troubled. That female corpse—or rather, the malevolent spirit—has clearly affected the locals, even striking fear into them."
Madison replied, "That proves we've come to the right place."
Ruboo frowned slightly. "Judging by the shopkeeper's attitude, it seems the locals aren't keen to reveal the truth."
"Don't worry, not everyone will keep it secret. Leave it to me from here on," Madison declared confidently.
"Leave it to you? How?" Ruboo inquired curiously.
Madison pointed at the map in Ruboo's hand:
"First, you'll need to help me locate the city centre pub."
...
Colourful lights flickered, and pulsating metal music reverberated through the air.
Though it was still daylight, when Ruboo and Madison arrived at the nearest bar in the city centre, they saw quite a few men and women inside letting their hair down.
"Pretty average."
Madison, who was in her element here, first offered her take on the bar before gesturing towards a group of youngsters nearby. She raised an eyebrow at Ruboo with confidence:
"Ten minutes. I could get these lot to spill who their first wank was on, let alone anything else."
Upon hearing this, Ruboo immediately gestured invitingly.
Madison then strode over to the group of youngsters and greeted them:
"Hey, lads, any booze here?"
The group froze for a moment before staring straight at Madison.
As a Hollywood star, Madison was second to none in both appearance and physique.
Such a presence was far beyond the capacity of these young men, who'd failed to get into university and spent most of their lives in the countryside, their horizons narrow and limited.
Before long, Madison had effortlessly integrated into the group, and his request for complimentary drinks was unanimously approved.
"We're not little boys!" one of the youths blurted out impatiently.
"Oh? But you lot look more like fledglings that haven't even shed their down yet."
Madison's remark instantly incensed the entire group.
Thus, when Madison challenged them to "prove your questions," they scrambled to respond one after another.
This included the ten-minute challenge Madison had just issued to Ruboo.
After shooting Ruboo a meaningful glance from a short distance away, and with the conversation flowing so smoothly, Madison naturally turned to questions about the Golden Arm.
At this mention, the young men—already well on their way to drunkenness, spouting nonsense—suddenly fell silent.
Fortunately, a lad named Mike slammed his hand on the table and scoffed, "What's there to be shy about? It's just a ghost story. Those old codgers might be scared stiff, but that doesn't mean I am. Bunch of cowards, that's what they are."
Hearing this, Madison immediately fixed Mike with an admiring gaze.
This delighted Mike immensely, prompting him to swiftly recount the ghost story he knew about the Golden Arm.
Seeing the beautiful woman captivated by Mike, the other young men, unwilling to be outdone, cast aside their initial hesitation. Like peacocks displaying their plumage to a mate, they eagerly vied to share their tales.
Thus unfolded the origins of the Golden Arm.
The protagonist of the tale was a woman named Heather, once considered the fairest maiden in Alpina County.
She had a husband who doted on her.
Though she spent money freely, her husband never uttered a word of complaint.
Just as they were living happily, tragedy struck.
A logging accident severed Heather's right arm.
This was utterly unacceptable to the beauty-conscious Heather.
At her pleading, her husband mortgaged their home and took out loans to have a golden arm crafted for her.
Even when afflicted with life-threatening pneumogoldosis, Heather refused to remove her golden arm. On her deathbed, she demanded her husband bury the arm with her.
Her husband consented.
But the good times didn't last. Under immense debt pressure, the husband reneged on his promise. He dug up his wife's grave and removed the golden arm.
"The result..."
At this point, Mac took a swig of his drink, deliberately adopting a chilling tone in his excitement.
"The next day, neighbours who sensed something amiss came to the husband's house. To their horror, they found him dead, lying in bed cuddled up with his wife—who had been buried in her coffin long ago—and the golden arm lay precisely between them."