Loyal beyond death, betrayed beyond return—
a general who won the war, yet never made it home.
Case records: PA3-01 to PA3-
Date: 2026-1-02（ISO）
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— Anomalous Film Facility —
The earliest reports described sounds of battle where no battle should exist.
Between 00:00 and 03:00, metallic clashes were repeatedly recorded within a reconstructed battlefield set—blades striking armor, war cries echoing across empty ground, and the unmistakable thunder of mounted movement.
No personnel were present.
No adjacent productions were scheduled.
No source could be identified.
Within two weeks, multiple film crews had withdrawn from the site.
One security suffered acute psychological collapse.
Another did not survive the night.
These incidents prompted the first informal inquiry—
---
The initial meeting took place at a café in Novalis District.
After brief introductions, Lucien gestured toward the man seated beside him.
"Rhan, this is Victor Hale. He recently completed construction of a large-scale film studio north of Donghai City."
"A film studio?" Jasper leaned forward at once. "Like Universal Studios? A place built specifically for filming?"
"Exactly."
Jasper whistled softly. "That's no small investment."
Victor Hale was of average height and build, dressed plainly, a dark cap pulled low over his brow. His handshake was steady, his manner restrained.
"I've heard of you, Mr. Arcturus," he said. "People say you hear what others cannot—and that you've resolved matters most would rather ignore. I expected someone older."
I offered a polite nod but did not respond.
Once seated, Victor removed his cap. His features were composed, his expression sincere, but the fatigue around his eyes suggested prolonged strain rather than age.
"I won't waste your time," he said. "I've come here because I need help."
"Go on."
"Last year, I purchased an abandoned cement factory on the northern outskirts of Donghai. With several partners—and a significant bank loan—we converted it into a film facility. Construction went smoothly. Promotion was effective. Directors began scouting locations almost immediately."
He paused, fingers tightening around his coffee cup.
"Everything was progressing according to plan," he continued, "until the disturbances began."
A server placed fresh coffee on the table. Victor took a sip, as if steadying himself, then went on.
"It started with night shoots. Directors reported additional figures appearing in their footage—people who were not on set. When filming stopped, headcounts were correct. Playback showed nothing unusual. But the phenomenon repeated itself across multiple nights."
His voice lowered.
"Soon after, other crews encountered worse anomalies. Entire scenes were recorded incorrectly—different performers, unfamiliar formations, actions no one remembered staging."
He hesitated.
"But the most severe incidents occurred at the reconstructed battlefield set."
Victor swallowed.
"When no filming was scheduled, between midnight and early morning, sounds would emerge—weapon strikes, mounted charges, massed movement. It was... organized. Not random noise."
"At first, we assumed another production nearby was working late. But after several consecutive nights, suspicion grew. A few crew members went to investigate."
His voice faltered.
"They fled before dawn. None of them returned to the project."
Selene, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.
"What did they see?"
Victor shook his head.
"They wouldn't say. Only that something was there. Something that shouldn't be."
Word spread quickly. Directors withdrew. Within a month, the site was labeled unsafe within the industry.
"And your investment?" Jasper asked carefully.
Victor smiled bitterly. "On the verge of collapse."
He took a breath.
"I eventually went there myself—with security. The sounds manifested again, exactly as described. I sent two men to confirm the source."
His hands trembled slightly.
"They never came back. At sunrise, we found them at the edge of the training ground. One had lost his sanity. The other..."
He stopped.
"...was dead."
The café fell silent.
Victor drained his coffee in a single motion, as though the memory itself demanded it.
Jasper cut in, clicking his tongue.
"This kind of thing? Sounds like classic feng shui trouble. Mr. Hale—did you consult anyone before breaking ground?"
"No." Victor glanced at me, visibly embarrassed. "Mr. Arcturus, no disrespect intended. I simply never believed in such things. The location was excellent—everyone said it was valuable. The previous owner claimed he made hundreds of millions there. I thought... how bad could the feng shui be? So I went ahead."
"You've got nerves of steel," Jasper scoffed. "I spent two million just arranging the feng shui for my little bar."
Victor shifted awkwardly.
I shot Jasper a look. "Plenty of people don't believe in feng shui or the esoteric arts. Not everyone is like you."
Then I turned back to Victor. "After the incidents began—did you bring anyone in?"
"I did. But there are too many frauds out there. The first two put on a convincing show—rituals, talismans, the whole act—and swore the problem was solved. That night, everything happened as usual. When I called them again... their phones were already disconnected."
"You didn't even wait to verify it overnight?" Jasper sneered.
"You're way too easy to fool."
"I had no experience with people like that," Victor said helplessly. "They were introduced by friends, spoke with absolute confidence—just like in the movies. Of course I believed them... Who knew they'd vanish afterward?"
"You said you hired five. What about the other three?"
Victor let out a long sigh.
"Two of them stayed until one in the morning. The moment they reached the training grounds, they panicked and fled—left their ritual tools behind."
"And the last one?"
At that, Victor's expression grew complicated.
"He was a Daoist lineage practitioner—Mr. Oliver Caelthorn. That night, he entered the grounds alone... Strangely enough, once he went in, the noises stopped. I thought we finally had a chance. But when he came out, he said whatever was inside was beyond his reach. He told me to seek someone else and left immediately. I tried to pay him—he refused. Said the matter was unresolved, and he couldn't accept the money."
Jasper nodded slightly, then turned to me.
"Rhan—this Caelthorn fellow. He sounds like the real deal, doesn't he?"
"Most Daoist practitioners are," I said after a pause.
"If the matter isn't resolved, they won't take payment. Even when they do, much of it is given away. That tradition has always been upright."
I frowned. "That night, he must have negotiated with whatever is inside... and failed. Which means this situation is indeed troublesome."
"Mr. Arcturus!"
Victor's face went pale as he looked at me, almost pleading.
"Can you help me? I've poured my entire fortune into this—and dragged two partners down with me. They have families, children... their homes are already in turmoil. I truly can't forgive myself."
Lucien added quietly, "I've known Victor for years. This time, he's genuinely out of options."
I raised a hand. "It's all right. I understand."
Selene tugged gently at my sleeve, lowering her voice.
"Rhan... don't push yourself. If even a Daoist master couldn't handle it, please don't force it."
I lifted my coffee and took a small sip before replying to Victor.
"Since you found your way here—and since you're a friend of Uncle Drax—perhaps this is fate. I can go and take a look. But I can't promise a solution."
"As long as you're willing to see it for yourself, I'll be eternally grateful!"
Jasper jumped in at once.
"Let's be clear—Mr. Arcturus is only going to observe. He may not intervene at all. Even if it can't be resolved, he may leave, just like that Daoist master. You need to understand that."
"I do. Mr. Arcturus's safety comes first," Victor said hurriedly, nodding.
Then, cautiously: "Then... what fee would you require, sir?"
"We'll discuss that after I've seen it. If the matter isn't resolved, money is irrelevant."
To accept payment now would mean accepting the obligation to solve it.
And I have never acted for money alone.
"I understand, I understand..." Victor exhaled in relief.
"Then—when would you be available to depart?"
"Tomorrow."
"Rhan!" Selene suddenly tightened her grip on my hand.
"Could you wait a few days? I have an important group symposium coming up. Let me finish and go with you, please?"
"I'm only going to assess the situation. I may not be able to do anything at all. And Mr. Hale's matter can't afford delays—if I'm unable to help, he'll need time to seek someone else."
Selene pressed her lips together. Reluctantly, she let go.
Jasper leaned in with a grin.
"Mr. Arcturus, let me come along. Ever since that bar incident, I've been bored stiff. Perfect excuse to head to the East Sea—prime territory for men, you know. With me around, my cousin can rest easy. I'll keep an eye on you... make sure no beautiful women get too close."
He flashed Selene an ingratiating smile and earned a sharp glare in return.
I didn't object.
An extra pair of hands could be useful.
"You may come," I said calmly.
"But you follow my lead."
"Absolutely!"