Eldritch Horror Theatre

Though it was a casual counter-question, it was clearly difficult to answer.

For a moment, even Brother Persuader, despite his soaring momentum like a rainbow, froze for two and a half seconds.

"What makes you think I have any interest in dealing with a lunatic like you?"

Retaining his senior demeanor, however, he ultimately gave a cold snort and fired back with high aggression.

"Then why did you come out again?"

...

If Ranks were multi-dimensional, then in the authority of mockery, the gap between Brother Persuader and Fu Qian was undoubtedly that of a mortal facing a God.

This time, the silence lasted for several two-and-a-half-second intervals.

His expression even twisted, and the pair of painted wings on his back flared open, faintly threatening to escalate into physical language.

"So you aren't planning to leave?"

Naturally, this didn't mean he was willing to keep being led by the nose. The next moment, he forcefully changed the subject.

And his chosen topic was perfectly placed—an issue that Fu Qian couldn't possibly ignore in his current situation.

"So, do you have any suggestions?"

As an ever-pragmatic expert, Fu Qian didn't engage in any pointless rebellious posturing; he immediately sought advice without a shred of shame.

Hmph...

His senior prestige was finally validated, yet the Persuader showed no signs of proud exultation. It seemed the harsh lessons of their previous encounters were permanently etched into his mind: the guy in front of him was a genuinely cunning, shameless bastard, and any nonsense or tendency to crack jokes and banter almost always served an underlying purpose.

It was hard to say this current topic didn't involve some calculated misdirection, but—

With a cold sneer, the Persuader's schadenfreude was utterly undisguised.

"Actually, there's no need for you to go to such trouble. I admit I underestimated you last time. You're smart, cunning, and cold-blooded—completely different from those idiots in the past."

"However, precisely because of that, I am now more than happy to share any experience you might find useful, just to make the process of you accepting your fate all the more spectacular."

"And I will be right here, refusing to miss a single step."

"In fact, it looks like you've already started accepting it."

As he spoke, he gestured toward Fu Qian's left arm.

...

Right now, Fu Qian was still wearing the trench coat that Eldest Miss Wen had helped him pick out.

Fu Qian understood this as a manifestation of the Nightmare Corridor's essential nature—such as the automatic aggregation of dream fragments.

Although the previous dream had ended quickly, since he had gained a certain degree of control over it, some of its finer elements could be brought over.

This was undoubtedly a good thing. Otherwise, having lost his flesh-morphing abilities, he might have been at risk of running around naked.

By comparison, the Persuader was clearly much more sensitive to certain things; the true state of his left hand couldn't be hidden from him.

"Indeed. I think this look is pretty good."

The next moment, Fu Qian's "left arm" twitched, bending upward at a bizarre angle.

Reaching over, Fu Qian smoothly pulled his sleeve up.

Pitch-black chitin, golden stripes as fine as hair—underneath the fabric lay the terrifying form of a hideous, arm-thick worm.

Through the gaps in its armored shell, thread-like flesh could be seen rippling inside as the plump body squirmed.

...

A seemingly familiar pattern.

However, facing this hideous sight, Fu Qian was focused on something else.

If he remembered correctly, a similar physical trait had appeared on him once before, back when he first entered the Nightmare Corridor.

The mutation brought on by the parasitic worm inside his body at the time had been exactly this style.

The Corridor's "pollution" truly had a knack for exploiting every possible weakness.

Fu Qian didn't think there was another worm crawling inside him right now.

But it was obvious that one of the higher wills in the Nightmare Corridor manifested in a worm-like form, and its activity level was far from low.

Take, for example, that massive tome with nearly a thousand pages.

Its erosion had immediately anchored onto the lost left arm of his fundamental self.

To minimize his resistance, it even seemed to adopt the exact form of the species that had infected him once before.

The worm's head even bore five Spikes, seemingly mimicking the concept of fingers to reduce his body's rejection.

It was easy to imagine that as the pollution deepened, every part of his body would slowly shift toward this grotesque style.

In fact, he could already feel the boundary between the worm's tail and his shoulder creeping slowly, yet firmly, upward.

Trapped in the Nightmare Corridor this time, not only was the essence of his existence being altered, but its superficial form was clearly not being spared either.

Of course, this wasn't completely without its perks. Although it wasn't very obedient, this worm arm was now undoubtedly the most physically destructive part of his entire body.

"I hope you can maintain that optimism."

The Persuader was clearly no longer provoked by this attitude. Between cold sneers, he proved true to his word and directly began sharing his knowledge.

"The method to leave is simple. Pollute those who enter the dream, and fuse your Imprint with their very existence—just like I did."

"Imprint pollution?"

Despite having vast experience with Nightmares, and having already deduced some of what the Persuader was sharing, Fu Qian didn't let arrogance get the better of him.

"Exactly. The Imprint of your own existence—things that carry your strong branding: your name, your form, even your abilities and authority. Use them to distort reality, just like pressing a handprint into a lump of clay."

"As for how exactly to execute it, I believe you've seen more than enough examples to reference."

That was indeed true...

As the Persuader spoke, Fu Qian looked away from his left arm. The events of the past few months flashed rapidly through his mind, including the various monsters and demons showing off their unique abilities.

In this regard, his horizons had been broadened more than a few times.

"But remember, during this process, whatever you do, you absolutely cannot wake them up."

The Persuader wasn't even done with his explanation, and it was obvious he had a profound understanding of the true nature of Fu Qian's past actions.

"This is not an easy task, because the intensity of their dreams is completely different from yours back then."

"A stimulus even slightly too strong, or a sharp cognitive conflict, could trigger their awareness and shatter the dream, rendering all your efforts useless. I believe you just tested this for yourself."

"However, what I want to tell you is that you actually need a rather strong stimulus to leave an Imprint on that clay."

The Persuader's tone heavily implied that he was enjoying the show and eager for more chaos.

"Understood. It's like carving intricate patterns into an eggshell—using a sledgehammer."

Fu Qian didn't mind the mockery at all, merely nodding with absolute seriousness.

"That brings up a question. What if I fail for a long time, and no one ever dreams of me again?"

"Isn't it obvious? You run out of eggs, and you lose your chance to escape."

The Persuader clearly didn't mind provoking Fu Qian a little more.

"Oh, just like you."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!