Eldritch Horror Theatre

This seemed a little strange.

Right on cue with the reminder from outside, the carriage slowed to a smooth halt.

Fu Qian was deep in thought, not even shifting his posture as he gazed into the mirror.

Though the reflection was warped, it clearly showed a middle-aged man with brown hair, a clean-shaven, gaunt face, and a stern, unsmiling expression.

Judging by the Medical Visit Box packed with various potions and instruments, he was clearly playing the role of a doctor.

More importantly, it was a face he had absolutely no impression of.

He had hoped to get a name out of the carriage driver.

Yet when the man alerted him just now, he had seemed to purposefully avoid using any name, only confirming Fu Qian's guess about his profession.

Coupled with a house call in the dead of night, the atmosphere had immediately turned eerie.

Just as he mused over this, the carriage door opened from the outside. A middle-aged man with graying temples and meticulous attire leaned in, offering Fu Qian a slight bow.

He hadn't been overthinking things.

Seeing that this man—who had been waiting for him and acted very much like a butler—also only addressed him as "Doctor," Fu Qian confirmed his earlier suspicion.

A moment later, rather than feeling annoyed by this, he found himself quite pleased.

Adapting to local customs, this bizarre atmosphere clearly didn't apply just to him. Didn't that mean he could just call everyone "Mister" and "Missus" from here on out?

That would certainly save him a lot of trouble.

He even had the advantage of knowing a name: Jane Winslow.

"Lead the way."

Giving a faint nod, Fu Qian purposely roughened his voice to disguise it and picked up his Medical Visit Box.

"Right this way, please. They are already waiting."

The man showed no strange reaction and simply stepped aside.

...

They weren't even using the front door.

Stepping down from the carriage, the sight before him was vastly different from the ordinary streets and alleys he had traversed during the day.

It was a spacious courtyard. While the central building wasn't overly grand, it was unmistakably a private villa, which perfectly matched his theory about the man being a butler.

And their current location was clearly not the front entrance.

Sneaking around like this without even exchanging names, the role he was playing felt more and more like a "highly trained doctor."

Suddenly feeling a heavy sense of historical duty on his shoulders, Fu Qian immediately assumed a professional, unswerving posture and signaled the butler to lead on.

...

"Right inside."

They headed straight up to the second floor of the villa. The butler signaled for Fu Qian to wait, then stepped forward and knocked on a door.

Click!

About half a minute later, the lock softly disengaged.

The door was opened personally by an elegantly dressed woman with dark hair and brown eyes, looking every bit the noblewoman.

Though she looked rather exhausted, she still managed to compose herself, offering Fu Qian a slight nod of greeting.

"Thank you for the journey. We leave everything in your hands."

"Have faith in my professionalism."

Having a good guess as to who this was, Fu Qian replied simply and confidently.

In truth, he could even guess who the other person behind the door had been.

The butler's knock had naturally been to announce their arrival, but its purpose wasn't to summon someone to greet them—it was to give whoever was inside time to leave.

Fu Qian was well aware that there had been both a man and a woman in the room. The man had been speaking in low, comforting tones to the woman standing before him, only slipping away silently after the knock.

And in their whispered conversation, he had distinctly heard the name Jane.

"Please, come in. She is right inside."

Bypassing any further pleasantries, the noblewoman gestured for the butler to wait outside.

It seemed this excessively secretive couple was most likely Mister and Mrs. Winslow.

Following her to another door inside, Fu Qian shook his head to himself.

He didn't even need to open it to know who was lying on the bed inside: a rather young woman who was both his patient for this trip and his mission target—Jane Winslow.

...

"Doctor, can you tell what exactly is wrong with her?"

It was warmer in here than outside, yet the air didn't feel the least bit stuffy. The bedroom had clearly been meticulously maintained.

Stepping into the room first, Mrs. Winslow gently drew back the bed curtains to reveal the sight behind them.

A young girl, her hair a shade lighter than Mrs. Winslow's, lay sleeping peacefully on the exquisite, embroidered bedsheets.

Judging by her steady breathing, her bodily functions were perfectly normal.

Of course, it wasn't quite so steady right now.

Despite Mrs. Winslow keeping her voice and movements as soft as possible, the girl had still woken up.

Taking a deep breath, the girl slowly turned her head to look over.

Her eyes were the same color as Mrs. Winslow's, and their shape was arguably even more beautiful—that is, if her face were one and a half times larger.

Indeed, those bright, clear brown eyes were shockingly out of proportion with her lower features. They were so large that they pushed past the limits of visual tolerance, exuding a distinct, inhuman aura.

The fact that their shape was so overly exquisite only worsened the eerie discomfort.

"Mother..."

With a soft call, the young girl said nothing more. Instead, she bravely suppressed the instinct to turn her face away, allowing Fu Qian to examine her.

"We've brought in another doctor. Just lie quietly."

Mrs. Winslow smiled as she gave this soft instruction, but the moment she turned around, she could no longer hide the heartbreak in her eyes.

"When did this begin?"

As a highly trained medical professional, Fu Qian's expression didn't change in the slightest, projecting nothing but total professionalism.

"By our best estimate, a week. The symptoms weren't obvious at first; subconsciously, we even thought she simply looked prettier."

"But starting the day before yesterday, we finally realized something was wrong. After returning from an art salon, she hasn't left the house since."

"Yet the symptoms haven't stopped. They only continue to worsen."

The arts in this place seemed utterly toxic, no matter how he looked at it.

Fu Qian mused to himself as he listened.

The changes in Miss Winslow's body clearly exceeded the scope of any ordinary illness.

Those exaggerated proportions couldn't possibly be explained away by her losing weight and making her eyes appear larger.

Her parents didn't even need his medical opinion to reach that conclusion themselves.

But it was likely precisely for this reason that they had arranged this secret house call—they were worried about The Order.

Based on his past encounters, the Hunters of The Order who specialized in field missions clearly had no room for mercy or sentimentality.

Before confirming the true nature of their daughter's affliction, Mister and Mrs. Winslow evidently didn't want to risk her being exorcised. That was why they had sought someone for a secret diagnosis.

From that angle, he could even deduce that the doctor he was currently impersonating probably didn't have the cleanest record, and likely took on special commissions regularly.

Highly trained, indeed.

Nodding slightly, Fu Qian popped open the Medical Visit Box.

"Has she been experiencing Nightmares?"

He asked nonchalantly while picking out a handy diagnostic tool.

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