Eldritch Horror Theatre

Although Brother Taylor's thought process grew increasingly wild in his dreamwalker state, guiding him took no effort at all.

But why would a magnificent evil god stoop to something as tasteless as extortion?

The reason he chose the Abyss Notes was precisely because Taylor couldn't produce the Abyss Notes.

From the beginning, almost every one of Fu Qian's actions served a single purpose: seizing control of the dream with maximum efficiency while testing and observing the reactions.

To achieve that, one proven method was making the dreamwalker abandon the original intention of their dream.

As Taylor uncovered more and more "truths," the one who helped him forge those truths quietly transformed into an evil god desecrating the dream.

Given the identity of this business partner, the Abyss Notes were the element Fu Qian was most familiar with.

After confirming the core theme of Taylor's dream, Fu Qian decisively used the book to his advantage.

He pushed the conspiracy theory to its limits, gradually usurping control of the dream in the process.

Through these efforts, Fu Qian realized his control had reached a new height—even if the original owner left, he could still briefly sustain the dream's existence.

In light of this, he decisively began his next attempt: corrupting the dreamwalker and leaving an Imprint.

...

Having worked as a Scavenger for several months, Fu Qian had seen his fair share of various evil entities.

Their methods of corruption were undoubtedly varied and deeply memorable.

The problem was that, after a brief recollection, Fu Qian quickly realized he could not actually emulate many of those predecessors' methods.

Simply put, under the deep corruption of The Corridor, he only retained his Rank in name. In terms of physical constitution, he was no better than an ordinary person.

Even his Mythical Form, the most obvious method for inflicting corruption upon others, could not be activated.

His remaining two items and two skills didn't seem very relevant to leaving an Imprint either.

He couldn't exactly announce his name and demand the man go back and pray to Dayun Mingwang three times a day.

If it were that simple, being an evil god would be far too easy.

All in all, unless the Eternally Lucid Mind could somehow resist the corruption, or the Head Cage Gaze Isolation could bring about some change, he had almost no room to operate.

Even so, Fu Qian wasn't in a hurry to test them.

For one thing, he remained skeptical of their current effectiveness.

The Warehouse's prompt had made it clear: these items and abilities were retained because they were inherently related to the Nightmare.

In a situation akin to returning to the source of their power, it was hard to say how effective they would be, or even if their effects would remain positive.

On the other hand, they were among his few remaining trump cards, the kind that could only be used once within a short timeframe.

Until he had a better grasp of his current predicament, Fu Qian wasn't prepared to waste those chances on blind testing.

He hadn't considered the Decree of Return because he had quietly activated it earlier while observing the victim on the bed—to no effect whatsoever.

Fu Qian was absolutely certain the negative effects on his body hadn't been alleviated in the slightest.

As for the Extreme Hunger Infection, despite the word "infection" in its name, the target was clearly himself. There seemed no need to rush into courting death with it.

Ultimately, under these circumstances, the very first thing Fu Qian chose to display was something tied to his essence, something that could truly be called an Imprint—the Emblem of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

As mentioned before, this simple mark could be considered an abstraction of his own authority.

If he wanted it carried into reality through memories, it was far more meaningful than a simple name.

And with Fu Qian's current level of dream control, swapping the pattern on his mask for this Emblem was no trouble at all.

...

"What is that? What are you trying to do?"

Clearly, even though it didn't leak any Power of Calamity, Taylor still suffered a degree of Mental Shock from the change, compounded by the atmosphere Fu Qian had cultivated all along.

"The master of Calamity, wielding absolute power over life and death..."

How could Fu Qian waste such a perfect atmosphere? He immediately recited the honorific name of the King of the Abandoned Prison with an ethereal, exalted demeanor.

"Souls wither because of you, and flesh is granted eternal peace..."

"I don't understand... Is this the powerful entity behind you?"

It was clear that Taylor was completely unfamiliar with both the invocation and the Emblem.

"It seems that while your family is ancient, they haven't taught you enough."

Snapping out of that saintly tone in a second, Fu Qian let out a string of calm chuckles.

In this setting, however, that calm reaction was far more chilling than any intense emotional outburst.

"But you're in luck, because I can teach you a few things on their behalf."

The next moment, Fu Qian raised his right hand, aiming a handgun at Taylor's forehead from a distance.

...

"That thing... where did you pull that from?"

This sudden change obviously caused Taylor considerable discomfort.

But his pride as a member of the Blood Clan wouldn't allow him to dodge erratically over such a simple gesture, so for the moment, he merely questioned him while maintaining his guard.

"Where did I pull it from... Good question."

Fu Qian merely offered a mild compliment in response to his surprise.

The gun was naturally conjured using his control over the dream. Right now, he could do far more than just alter appearances.

Of course, Fu Qian had no intention of using this nightmare weapon to blow Taylor's head off. Whether or not he could even pull it off, there was no point.

The goal right now was corruption.

Just a moment ago, when he realized he could genuinely manifest a weapon with ease, Fu Qian quickly thought of something else—was it possible to reproduce the authority of the King of the Abandoned Prison this way?

Click!

The mechanism clicked softly, but no muzzle flash followed. It was obviously an empty gun.

"I can only say, I completely fail to understand what you're trying to do—"

Relieved, Taylor was cut off halfway through his critique.

His body, which had instinctively dodged slightly at the pull of the trigger, suddenly went into a violent spasm.

His face twisted, and his flashing crimson eyes bulged outward, as if someone had just detonated a grenade inside his head.

It actually worked?

As Taylor lost all sense of elegance and staggered to lean against a wall, Fu Qian was equally astonished.

It had indeed been a sudden whim. While firing the empty gun, he tried to manifest a scene of Calamity erupting at the target's location, pairing it with the Emblem to piece together a facsimile of the King of the Abandoned Prison.

However, this beautiful expectation had been fulfilled almost too smoothly—

Faintly realizing something, Fu Qian turned the gun around the next moment, aiming the muzzle at his palm. Then, his right hand suddenly swelled, transforming into a giant claw.

This was a flesh manipulation he could easily perform back before he lost his powers, something even Taylor had witnessed.

Now, relying on his control over the dream, he had recreated this transformation, but...

Bang!

This time, it was a real gunshot. Flicked by the giant claw, the gun pressed against his palm spat out a bullet.

Amid the terrifying impact, his flesh was torn open into a deep crater, nearly penetrating straight through.

Ignoring the agonizing pain, Fu Qian casually tossed the gun aside and carefully examined the wound—the shattered flesh and blood were actually composed of dense, swarming tiny worms.

The corruption from The Corridor was indeed not that simple.

After gaining high-level control of the dream, he could indeed manifest certain Transcendent effects to stimulate people.

But it seemed that even an illusion like this was fundamentally powered by The Corridor.

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