Eldritch Horror Theatre

It was hard to tell how much of Chen Xing's lament was genuine.

After all, many people lied to themselves just to buy peace of mind.

Fortunately, Chen Xing soon finished his sighing. He looked up at Fu Qian with a resolute expression.

"Even so, your words remain unverified. I will only fulfill the rest of the agreement with Deng Feizhou."

"That's between you and him. I was merely commissioned to pass on a message."

Fu Qian spoke with complete nonchalance.

"Good."

Chen Xing nodded, visibly satisfied with Fu Qian's response.

"Try not to come around here in the near future. Deng Feizhou will contact you when the time is right."

"The message has been delivered, and I have my own mission to attend to. I'll take my leave—who's there?!"

Halfway through his sentence, Fu Qian snapped his head toward the doorway.

'Someone's there?'

Fu Qian's reaction startled Chen Xing. He immediately followed his gaze, but saw absolutely nothing.

Not only that, his senses didn't pick up a single thing.

'Something's wrong!'

Realizing his mistake, Chen Xing whipped back around.

A fierce gale was already blasting into his chest and abdomen!

...

The simplest tricks were often the most effective.

Like the classic "look, an airplane" distraction. As long as the timing was right and the acting convincing, it never failed to fool a target.

Fu Qian had first displayed his form, expressed disinterest in their cooperation, and finally moved to leave decisively after delivering his message. This entire sequence of actions had lowered Chen Xing's guard to the absolute minimum.

Then, he used an incredibly basic trick to divert the man's attention.

Seizing that fleeting opportunity, Fu Qian attacked without hesitation.

As things stood, killing this Demigod in a direct confrontation was his only way to complete the mission.

It was a daunting challenge, but not an entirely impossible one.

Judging from previous tests, the effect of the Mythical Form skill essentially granted his next strike Demigod Grade power and form.

In other words, purely in terms of offense, he could absolutely unleash an attack at the Demigod Grade.

As long as he seized the initiative, killing a Demigod wasn't impossible.

Of course, the price was also steep.

After all, every time he used Mythical Form, it cost him a life.

In fact, now that the target was locked, simply restarting, finding Chen Xing, and seeing if he could kill the man before he advanced was a valid strategy.

Considering it would only cost 1 SAN Value, statistically speaking, it would likely be much more economical.

But that wasn't his style—real men faced difficulties head-on!

Mythical Form! Air Bullet!

Fu Qian struck with crisp efficiency.

For his attack method, he chose the Air Bullet, which required the smallest physical movement and offered the greatest concealment.

Since he had just stood up from the chair, the distance between them was barely a meter.

By the time Chen Xing reacted, the Demigod Form Air Bullet was already right in his face.

"You overestimate yourself!"

Faced with this lethal strike, Chen Xing showed absolutely no panic.

With a cold snort, a sense of stagnation thousands of times stronger than what he had displayed at the banquet rippled outward.

The surroundings instantly seemed to enter a state of total standstill.

Fu Qian found his movements becoming impossibly strenuous, his body stiffening to the point of petrification.

As expected of a Demigod!

Compared to his move at the banquet, this boost in ability was no trivial matter.

The power of the Air Bullet would surely be affected to some degree.

Fu Qian instinctively glanced down and noticed that Chen Xing indeed showed no signs of being hit.

Instead, a layer of white frost bloomed across his body, followed by a bone-piercing, absolute cold that rapidly spread.

The temperature plummeted so drastically that the surrounding air seemed to freeze solid. Multicolored ice crystals could vaguely be seen forming in midair.

'This is...' Fu Qian instantly realized something.

Just a moment ago, he had found it strange that the Air Bullet, buffed by the Mythical Form, hadn't transformed into something like an air cannon.

Now it seemed its very nature had been altered, imbuing it with an extreme freezing effect?

Weakened by Chen Xing's ability, the Air Bullet's kinetic force was diminished, but its freezing effect transferred solidly onto the man's body.

The next second, under Chen Xing's horrified gaze, Fu Qian felt the surrounding sense of stagnation vanish.

Meanwhile, starting from the surface, the clothes, skin, and flesh at Chen Xing's waist were freezing solid inch by inch.

Sparkling ice crystals were even visible on the surface!

Fu Qian thrust out his hand without a second thought.

His original plan had been to follow up with a Visceral Attack, but he changed his mind, throwing a direct punch at Chen Xing's frozen waist.

In an instant, the extreme cold cracked the skin on his arm.

A nerve-grating shattering sound followed.

Amidst the flying ice shards, the force of the rebound completely pulverized Fu Qian's entire forearm.

Fortunately, Chen Xing fared no better; a gaping, gruesome hole had been blown right through his waist.

With the strike successful, before Fu Qian could make his next move, a beastly roar erupted as Chen Xing's body suddenly ballooned in size.

The cavity in front of him expanded, swallowing its way up along his arm.

In the next moment, Fu Qian found himself trapped inside an enclosed space.

Ferocious spikes jutted out from all directions, making him feel as though he had fallen into the maw of a lamprey.

Except, at this moment, every single one of those spikes was crystal clear, radiating extreme cold.

'This guy's combat instincts are decent!'

This was clearly the Air Bullet that hadn't been fully neutralized.

Fu Qian quickly caught on to what was happening.

'Turning my tactics back upon me?'

'Could it be your real surname is Murong from Gusu?'

Facing the spikes crushing in from all sides, Fu Qian snorted.

'Taste my Six Hundred Meridian Divine Sword!'

Looking up, leaning back, and stretching his arms out, bathed in the extreme cold, Fu Qian activated Mythical Form once again.

Tendril Barrage Devastator!

Countless tendrils shot outward, surging to meet the encroaching spikes.

Ice chips flew through the air. For a brief second, Fu Qian thought he saw eyeballs surfacing deep within the spikes.

[SAN Value -1]

At the same time, a notification chimed in his ear.

'Fuck, you're definitely not a proper Demigod!'

Fu Qian roared in his mind. Losing a point of SAN Value inexplicably, on top of the four uses of Mythical Form from before...

'This deal is a massive loss!'

In the next second, a silent wail echoed in his heart.

His vision brightened as he found himself back in the light of day.

Phew!

Fu Qian immediately swept his gaze across his surroundings.

Scattered across the floor were the shattered limbs and ice blocks he had just blasted apart. A few meters away sat a massive, deformed head.

It was about the size of a bathtub. It lacked facial features entirely; instead, it only had several massive holes packed with densely clustered spikes.

Since there didn't seem to be anything else around, this had to be it.

Fu Qian walked over to the faintly twitching head and stomped down on it.

Fluids splattered everywhere as hundreds of shiny objects flew out.

It was a cluster of huge eyeballs!

At the end of each eyeball trailed a dark tendon that extended all the way back into the depths of the skull.

'I knew something was wrong with him!'

'If this is what all Demigods look like, that's honestly a bit disgusting.'

Recalling Deng Feizhou's earlier words, could this be the price that Chen Xing himself had been unaware of?

Fu Qian sifted through the gore and soon discovered a dark red, starburst-shaped stone.

'Is this the Blood of Thorns?'

Fu Qian bent down and picked it up.

The stone was crystal clear, and it still felt warm to the touch.

Following his action, the fleshy tendons snapped one by one. The hundreds of eyeballs stopped squirming, quickly rupturing and drying out.

'The mission still isn't complete?'

Having heard no prompt, Fu Qian was just starting to feel puzzled when the stone in his palm dissolved into a cloud of bloody mist and surged onto his face.

In the next moment, Fu Qian felt a stir in his mind.

Reaching up to touch his face, he pulled off a White Mask.

On the left cheek of the mask rested a conspicuous, dark red bloodstain.

[Mission complete. No. 3-0177 Containment successful.]

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