Eldritch Horror Theatre

Sure enough, the best place to gather intelligence was always with the competition.

Under tight surveillance, Fu Qian was escorted all the way out of the Night Watchers Base.

Swiftness is precious in warfare. Fu Qian wasted no time; the moment the young Night Watcher left, he hailed a cab.

"You're going to Houhai Manor?"

Hearing the address, the driver gave him a strange look, sizing Fu Qian up from head to toe.

"Is there a problem?"

The reaction was puzzling. Fu Qian's biggest worry was that the location might be a secret code, which would complicate things.

"No problem, really. It's just that not many people take a taxi there."

Almost an hour later, Fu Qian got out early, still some distance from his destination.

Houhai Manor was a genuine aristocratic estate. Compared to the ancestral home of the West Plain Huang Clan, it had to be several times larger.

No wonder the driver had been surprised.

Those who frequented such a place were celebrities and dignitaries. Even down on their luck, they wouldn't resort to taking a cab.

Young people these days, saving face at the cost of suffering!

Watching Fu Qian get out so far from the gates, the driver sighed and shook his head, accepting the few bills Fu Qian fished from his pocket.

Paying no mind to the driver's misunderstanding, Fu Qian didn't rush toward the manor. Instead, he waited patiently by the side of the road.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, an engine roared. A flashy luxury sports car raced over, swift as wind and lightning, heading straight for the manor.

Crack!

Fu Qian snapped a roadside tree in half with a single kick, sending it crashing resolutely into the middle of the road.

Tires shrieked as the sports car skidded wildly, coming to a halt just a few meters short of the trunk.

"I opened this mountain, I planted this tree..."

"You're asking for death."

The driver didn't even give Fu Qian the chance to finish his spiel.

The car had barely stopped before the door swung open and a white-clad figure rushed out.

A violent gust of wind howled. Without hesitation, the man threw a vicious punch straight at Fu Qian.

A transcendent indeed—and one with a fiery temper.

Fu Qian watched his opponent soar over like a white bird, aiming straight for his vitals.

Fu Qian marveled.

How domineering!

Standing perfectly still, Fu Qian let the man charge right up to his face.

Then he raised his left hand. Moving later but striking first, he slapped the man squarely across the face.

Faced with this overwhelmingly heavy slap, the man only managed half a horrified expression before he was sent flying backward, losing consciousness in midair.

Fu Qian took a step forward. Without waiting for him to hit the ground, he grabbed the man by the neck and caught him.

Not bad. His clothes didn't get dirty.

Fu Qian nodded in satisfaction.

Half a minute later, frowning, Fu Qian changed into the head-to-toe white outfit, finding a spot to tie up the unconscious man while he was at it.

He hadn't pulled his strike; the guy wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

But to ensure the operation wasn't interrupted, he still needed to add a layer of insurance.

Of course, considering the man was now stripped down to his underwear, even if he did wake up, he probably wouldn't continue toward the manor.

Once everything was settled, Fu Qian lifted the fallen tree, tossed it aside, and drove off in the sports car.

After driving a distance, Fu Qian slowed the car. Looking into the rearview mirror, his facial features began to shift rapidly.

The process wasn't easy.

With the mask covering his face, the difficulty of altering his appearance had increased more than tenfold.

Fortunately, the mask adhered tightly to his skin. It would still change along with his muscle adjustments.

It just wasn't as natural as his previous transformations—a single slip-up would leave him with the face of an ancient god.

But that was fine. He just had to take it slowly; as long as it reacted, it was enough.

It took nearly ten minutes before Fu Qian finally finished adjusting his new face, ensuring an eighty or ninety percent resemblance to the original owner.

The only issue was that the man had clearly worn makeup, making him look like a genuine powdered fop.

Fu Qian simply couldn't bring himself to do it, so he skipped that step.

With that resolved, Fu Qian picked up an invitation from the passenger seat.

"Mr. Zha Yingjun..."

This name... Fu Qian frowned at the sight of it.

But having spent so much effort altering his disguise, there was no point being picky.

Let's just put it on and get it over with!

Fu Qian drove all the way to the Plaza at the front of the manor. It was already packed with luxury cars and bustling with activity.

According to the invitation, tonight's banquet gathered almost all the celebrities of Shangjing. Every attendee was a wealthy aristocrat or a powerful figure, or at the very least, a young transcendent like Zha Yingze.

As he stepped out of the car, a valet naturally came over to park it for him.

Things looked quite peaceful.

A few minutes later, Fu Qian stood in the banquet hall, observing every movement around him.

He hadn't received much information from Yuan Shan. He only knew this was the suspected hideout; he was completely in the dark about the rest.

For now, he could only rely on quietly observing changes. If a situation really arose, he had to do his best to ensure the thief didn't fall into their hands.

In fact, as the banquet got underway, Fu Qian had already noticed suspected Night Watchers entering the hall, their eyes sharp as they scanned for targets.

This place was indeed under surveillance.

However, it seemed Yuan Shan had already spoken with the hosts.

Surrounded by a crowd like stars around the moon, the owner of Houhai Manor showed no signs of displeasure.

Fortunately, he had already changed his appearance. Judging from his current treatment, the man he was impersonating was also an unfamiliar face.

So far, hardly anyone had come over to greet him; most just cast scrutinizing glances his way.

The ladies, on the other hand, shot plenty of looks his way, though their eyes mostly lingered on his physique.

Brother Zha Yingjun was likely a newcomer to the social scene as well. That was why he had dressed up so elaborately—to expand his network.

Compared to his thick-headed peers who just stayed home punching sandbags to build muscle, this guy undoubtedly understood the art of marketing.

Wait a minute, why does this person look familiar?

As another woman's gaze swept past him, Fu Qian suddenly felt something was off.

Looking up, the facial features of the woman passing right in front of him were truly a bit familiar.

Wen Li?

Fu Qian was taken aback.

He remembered this fragile-as-glass protection target deeply.

Why was this daughter of destiny here?

Moreover, she was undoubtedly receiving the exact same treatment as him, lingering on the fringes of the banquet like a complete newcomer.

At most, her striking looks earned her a little more attention.

He remembered that by the end of his last mission, she was already a bona fide Tier 6 Transcendent.

Fortunately, his disguise was still perfect. She clearly hadn't recognized him; her gaze swept right past without any special reaction.

As Fu Qian pondered this, he suddenly noticed an extremely faint hum.

This is...

Realizing what it was in an instant, Fu Qian delivered a swift kick, sending Wen Li flying backward.

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