Eldritch Horror Theatre

Gerald clearly hadn't suspected him of the first murder; otherwise, he wouldn't have let him walk away so easily.

But this second, drastically different method of killing could easily be interpreted another way.

Even if he hadn't killed the first person, he might have been fishing in troubled waters—taking advantage of the chaos to commit the second murder.

Though the motive remained unclear, the suspicion falling on him had undeniably increased. Gerald's current attitude proved as much.

It seemed someone was dead set on dragging him into this...

Exactly what I wanted!

"So, Mister Lu, do you have any way to prove your innocence?"

Gerald clearly had no intention of giving Fu Qian much time to think.

To think I'd see the day!

Demanding a suspect prove their own innocence—it was strikingly similar to how he had treated the Huang Clan back in West Plain.

While Gerald didn't have a behemoth like the Night Watchers backing him as Fu Qian had back then, given the Siren Group's foundation, they could certainly afford to act so high-handedly.

"No."

Faced with such a difficult question, Fu Qian flatly shook his head.

Gerald's question was merely going through the motions anyway. A murder like this—one of a transcendent nature—wasn't something a suspect could just talk their way out of.

Even if he put a gun to his own head right now, it would just be seen as a desperate ploy to escape punishment.

"...Do you think I really have no way of dealing with you?"

This completely uncooperative attitude thoroughly infuriated Gerald. His tone had practically become a death sentence.

"Quite the opposite. I think you do have a way, so feel free."

Unfortunately for Gerald, Fu Qian didn't even look up. He simply took two steps to the side, sat down, grabbed the drink he hadn't touched earlier, and downed it in one gulp.

His movements were bold and uninhibited, carrying a powerful, infectious charm.

Madam Nora, sitting opposite him, looked incredibly awkward. She deeply regretted not clearing that glass away a moment ago.

You really know how to stir up trouble, don't you...

Theoretically, it's true that this is your drink, so it's your right to drink it whenever you want...

But treating you to a drink earlier was one thing. Who could have guessed that the next second you'd become Siren's sworn enemy and a prime murder suspect...

By sitting down here right now, you make it look like we're actively opposing Siren! I still have to make a living here, you know...

However, despite the unbearable urge to vent her frustrations, Nora ultimately just maintained a stiff expression and said nothing.

As someone with abundant experience in the jianghu, she knew perfectly well that speaking up now would only invite all sorts of misunderstandings. Expressing her difficult position through her demeanor alone was the best choice she could make.

Bastard!

As it turned out, her strategy was quite sound.

Gerald's murderous gaze only swept past her for a fraction of a second before locking entirely onto Fu Qian.

"Hahaha... Mister Lu is truly free and unbothered. It's enviable."

At the same time, Amir's hearty laughter rang out from the Ji Clan's side. His tone carried unconcealed schadenfreude.

They were clearly enjoying the way the situation was unfolding.

"But there's no need to worry, Mister Lu. The Siren Group has always convinced people with virtue. They would never wrong an innocent person. I've known Gerald for a long time, and I am absolutely certain of this."

It had to be said, Amir was quite skilled at being passive-aggressive, and the effect was spectacular.

Before he could even finish speaking, a bizarre metallic clatter materialized out of thin air, originating directly from Gerald's hand.

He had finally abandoned the idea of "convincing people with virtue," skipping any further words to attack directly.

The object making the sound was a thin iron chain held in his grasp.

It was covered in rust and pitch-black. Most peculiar of all, it dripped with moisture that seemed as though it would never dry, looking exactly as if it had just been dragged out of the sea.

"The Sunken Anchor?"

Gasps of shock instantly rippled through the spectators.

This was clearly a transcendent item, and a famous one at that, recognized by quite a few people present.

Accompanied by those nerve-racking clanks, the iron chain slithered like a snake, biting toward Fu Qian with lightning speed—so fast it was almost impossible to dodge.

Fortunately, Fu Qian had no intention of dodging.

Having drained his glass, he remained seated, as steady as Mount Tai. He even lifted the bottle to pour himself another round.

Halfway through the pour, the iron chain—having taken on a life of its own like a black serpent—wrapped directly around his pouring hand. It slithered its way up his arm, ultimately locking tight across his chest.

At almost the exact same moment, his arm sank as an impossibly massive weight bore down on him.

Tracing the chain to its other end revealed a pocket-sized ship's anchor, scarcely larger than a human hand.

Not only was it just as rusted as the chain, but its surface was also caked with the remains of barnacles and other marine life, looking as if it had been buried at the bottom of the ocean for years and only recently dug up.

No wonder it's called the Sunken Anchor!

Marveling inwardly, Fu Qian didn't let the tremendous downward pull cause his hand to tremble in the slightest. With effortless grace, he finished pouring his drink.

The glass the proprietress had provided was quite large, leaving very little liquor left in the bottle.

"My apologies. Until this matter is cleared up, it won't be convenient for Mister Lu to go anywhere else."

"Oh? And what if I do go somewhere else?"

Setting the bottle down, Fu Qian spoke with the utter recklessness of one courting death.

Gerald's sudden attack didn't surprise him in the least.

As a mature, large-scale organization, their boundaries and behavioral patterns were often highly predictable.

Gerald's initial reluctance to strike was clearly out of concern for the Siren Group's reputation.

With one of their own dying under bizarre circumstances, indiscriminately grabbing someone to execute as the killer just to wrap things up—especially in front of a crowd of transcendents—would be disastrous. He wouldn't just fail to report a proper conclusion; he'd likely be scapegoated as a rogue temp worker and fired.

By the same token, striking directly now was also for the sake of the Siren Group's reputation.

First he had been utterly ignored by a madman like Fu Qian, and then openly mocked to his face by his competitors. If he had continued to "convince people with virtue," Siren simply wouldn't be able to afford the humiliation.

While Brother Gerald's personal strength was only average, his way of handling things was clearly something his superiors could trust. No wonder he had been chosen to lead the team this time.

"Then you go ahead. You can even take the Sunken Anchor with you."

Facing Fu Qian's question, Gerald responded with a mocking sneer.

He has that much confidence in this thing?

Seeing the other man's absolute confidence, Fu Qian grew curious and gave the chain an experimental tug.

A resistance more than ten times stronger than before surged back. At the end of the taut chain, the iron anchor shifted less than five centimeters.

Fascinating indeed!

Fu Qian couldn't help but marvel.

The iron anchor wasn't even buried in anything, yet pulling on it felt like trying to drag a small mountain.

It was practically an alternative way of drawing a circle on the ground as a prison.

Had this been used on almost anyone else, they would likely struggle just to walk out of this small inn.

No wonder Gerald was so confident. It was just a pity—

The next second, Fu Qian let out a cold snort. His right hand, which hadn't been bound by the iron chain and had been kept tucked away, moved once more.

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