Eldritch Horror Theatre

So how exactly did those people from The Order gain enlightenment from this?

This was his first time getting a proper look at the stars since arriving here.

At first glance, nothing stood out. It even had a similar moon.

Beneath the night sky, Fu Qian silently offered his critique.

Allegory, trajectory, rise and fall... It was hard to imagine how those complex patterns and designs could be extracted from such sparse elements.

At least, after observing for five minutes and tracing the Star Map in his mind several times, he had gained absolutely nothing.

Letting out a long sigh and acutely feeling his lack of talent as a diviner, Fu Qian finally gave up and sat back down.

Behind him sat a selection of alcoholic beverages. Before leaving, Mister Winslow had gestured for him to help himself, but Fu Qian had no intention of doing so. The reason was quite simple—

Click!

"You've worked hard. Please, have something to eat."

Looking at Fu Qian sitting there silently, the newcomer seemed a little nervous, but she still spoke up softly the moment she set down the items in her hands.

Only then did Fu Qian finally turn to look.

It was a rather young woman, looking barely any older than Miss Winslow.

Her attire and accessories couldn't be called exquisite, but they were neat and elegant. Paired with a lovely face, she carried the full demeanor of an intellectual beauty.

What she had placed beside him was, impressively, a dining tray. Alongside a few delicate pastries sat a pre-poured glass of sweet wine.

That was right. He hadn't made a move because he had just run a quick divination on his fingers and knew he wouldn't need to pour his own wine.

Who said he didn't have the talent of a diviner?

"Thank you."

Fu Qian didn't stand on ceremony. He picked up the glass and took a sip.

It was slightly on the sweet side, but undoubtedly suitable for soothing the nerves at night. Some thought had gone into choosing this wine.

The same went for the pastries.

"It tastes good. Care to join me?"

After tasting one of each, Fu Qian politely gestured to the newcomer.

"...No need. Mister Winslow asked me to bring this to entertain our guest."

She was clearly taken aback for a moment before hurriedly waving her hands.

"That's true. No matter how you look at it, you wouldn't be considered a guest."

Readily accepting good advice, Fu Qian had no intention of offering further pleasantries. He picked out the best-tasting pastry and popped another piece into his mouth.

"I don't quite understand..."

The meal deliverer was clearly bewildered by this comment.

"Although you specifically changed your clothes, you make for a very unqualified maid with that full-on intellectual posture."

Fu Qian pointed at her right hand.

"Judging from the position of your calluses, there's a higher probability that you're a private tutor. Are you sure someone sent you here?"

"I'm sorry, I lied just now..."

Following Fu Qian's gesture, the newcomer's expression shifted several times, and she couldn't help but glance around.

Seeing that everything remained quiet, she finally gritted her teeth and gave up defending herself.

"I am indeed the private tutor here. You can call me... Nightingale."

After coming up with a temporary codename for herself on the spot, the female teacher sat down beside him straightforwardly, sweeping away her previous restraint.

"The reason I came to disturb your rest is because I'm genuinely quite worried. Can you tell me how that child is doing?"

As expected of an intellectual, she had grasped the spirit of secrecy perfectly, immediately giving herself a nickname to replace her real name.

Faced with her reaction, Fu Qian mentally sighed and copy-pasted his standard response.

"We won't know for sure until the analysis report comes out."

Analysis report?

The term clearly left Nightingale a bit bewildered, but she obviously wasn't so easily dismissed. Her eyes flickered slightly as she continued to press the issue.

"How long will that take?"

"Half an hour."

Fu Qian gave the answer the moment she asked.

"Madam Nightingale, please believe that I fully understand how you feel. I can tell that your concern for the little girl's condition is no less than her parents', but as a professional, I still will not make baseless conclusions."

Not only that, but he even offered some gentle persuasion the next moment.

"The situation is complicated, and there's too little information to go on. Have you accompanied her at all over the past two days?"

As if recalling something, Fu Qian naturally began a medical history consultation.

"I went out with her the day before yesterday, but I haven't seen her since we got back."

Madam Nightingale was quite cooperative, her face filled with worry.

"Combined with all the bad rumors lately, it makes me really worried about her..."

"What bad rumors? The Nightmare?"

Very satisfied with her performance, Fu Qian didn't particularly shy away from certain terms.

"You've heard about it too?"

However, this candor clearly took Madam Nightingale by surprise again.

"Those in our line of work must inherently be good listeners. Your outing the day before yesterday—was it an art salon, perhaps?"

"You know about that too? That's actually a very important reason why I'm worried. Do you think it could be the influence of the Nightmare?"

Finally completely convinced that Fu Qian truly knew, Madam Nightingale hesitated to speak, fraught with anxiety.

"No."

Unfortunately, Fu Qian instantly ruined the atmosphere.

Ah?

Draining the wine in his glass in one gulp, Fu Qian looked at Madam Nightingale's astonished face, his tone resolute.

"The patient is still sleeping quite well. It doesn't match the symptoms."

In the face of this overly decisive judgment, Madam Nightingale fell silent for quite some time.

"Actually, that was just one aspect of my concern... Besides that art salon, we took a trip outside the city even earlier."

And when she spoke again, she certainly didn't disappoint, finally bringing something new to the table.

"We ran into a dense fog and were ultimately forced to turn back."

"I'm a little worried it might be related to that, because judging from the subsequent reactions, this sudden dense fog isn't just a simple matter of blocking traffic. The Order is taking it with unprecedented seriousness, even forbidding private entry."

She was indeed better informed than the average person!

Fu Qian praised her inwardly.

A heavy fog that blocked traffic and refused to disperse—he had naturally heard of it today as well, but clearly, most people didn't know much about it.

"Jane's parents seemed to have forgotten this point in our conversation."

The next moment, Fu Qian's expression instantly turned serious, as if placing great importance on this intel.

"Tell me in detail everything you know about the fog."

"You know the child's name?"

Madam Nightingale was actually startled when he called out the name Jane.

"Knowing it is professional competence; not knowing it is professional ethics."

Chuckling coldly, Fu Qian wore a look of displeasure.

"But obviously, some people don't respect these professional ethics enough."

"Thanks for the wine. Now tell me more."

Handing the wine glass back, Fu Qian made a gesture.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if it's appropriate to tell you—"

"I said it before: those in our line of work are very good listeners."

Nightingale's hesitation was ruthlessly interrupted by Fu Qian.

"Are you sure you want to waste time on words like that?"

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