Eldritch Horror Theatre

Even though he often spouted nonsense in public, Fu Qian had always considered himself an honest man.

He could be strangely earnest at times.

For instance, his recent conclusion that each had its own distinct merits was the result of repeated deliberation and objective comparison.

It was by no means a casual remark.

To Fu Qian, that wondrous image from earlier represented the ultimate aesthetic of life.

And the lady before him—though slender, frail, and thoroughly hidden beneath an oversized robe—still exuded an indescribable allure.

It was a charm that bypassed ordinary standards of judgment, injecting the very concept of beauty straight into the mind.

What's more, even in this sunless Underground, locked away with a mass of deformed corpses, she maintained a unique sort of elegance.

Pointed Hat Madam was visibly surprised by Fu Qian's assessment.

After staring at him for a long moment, she offered her assessment of his critique.

Clearly, humility played no part in her response, either.

"Everyone says so."

Fu Qian nodded confidently.

Of course, his so-called "everyone" amounted to no more than one or two people.

In fact, even Young Master Qin and his peers were frequently shocked by his unique aesthetic tastes.

Without asking what the image from earlier actually represented, Fu Qian simply sat down to the side.

The woman showed no intention of standing up. Given the massive hat on her head, holding a conversation from his previous standing position would have been undeniably awkward.

"What's your name?"

Pointed Hat Madam asked, resting her chin on her hand as she watched his movements.

"Fu Qian."

Fu Qian?

Pointed Hat Madam repeated his name, her brow furrowing.

It was the first time her expression had changed.

After a long moment of thought, she lowered her head and muttered to herself.

"Interesting."

Her assessment of my name is that it's interesting?

Pointed Hat Madam's reaction piqued Fu Qian's interest.

It sounded exactly like what girls said when hitting on him.

It was true. Despite his terrible personality and an aura that bordered on the inhuman...

...Fu Qian still got hit on a fair amount thanks to his decent looks.

Of course, every single one of those girls eventually had the exact same realization: I must have been out of my fucking mind!

Naturally, Fu Qian didn't mistake the woman before him for some naive young girl ignorant of the world's dangers.

Which made her remark all the more intriguing.

"And you?"

Fu Qian asked after a moment of thought.

"My name?"

Pointed Hat Madam let out a low laugh.

"Are you sure? Knowing my name isn't exactly a good thing."

"Especially for your kind. I am a woman of absolute filth!"

"If you just need a title for conversation, you can call me Witch. Truthfully, it's a fitting moniker."

Witch? She certainly doesn't think lightly of herself!

Fu Qian didn't obsess over whether it was her true name. Instead, he fixated on something else she had just said—especially for your kind.

Fu Qian thought for a moment, then pointed at the lines across his body.

"You mean this?"

"Indeed."

The Witch stared into the darkness with hazy eyes, wearing a faint, enigmatic smile.

"Your faith grants you power. It wouldn't do to have it defiled by me."

"My power is granted by my appetite. It has nothing to do with faith."

Fu Qian replied casually.

"Saying such a thing is a severe act of blasphemy!"

The Witch looked up at him again.

"The power within you is actually quite impressive. The legendary Dragon of Time, is it? Heh..."

That compliment might have actually been convincing if you hadn't laughed at the end.

Fu Qian shot her a sideways glance.

"It doesn't matter. Someone like me, who deserves to rot in hell, never expects to be protected anyway—"

Before he could finish, the Witch reached out a hand.

"You have something very interesting on you."

A moment later, the Pus Stone in Fu Qian's pocket slipped out on its own and drifted slowly toward her.

The Countess really did know something! That's why she sent me down here!

Fu Qian made no move to snatch the Pus Stone back; instead, he quickly realized something.

He had purposely kept the Pus Stone hidden earlier, partly because he found the situation novel and wanted to chat with this mysterious entity a bit longer.

And partly to test whether she could sense the Pus Stone on him at all.

Evidently, the Witch was quite sensitive to its presence.

"Has it already come to this?"

The Witch stared at the Pus Stone in her hand and, after a long moment, let out a faint sigh.

"Where did you find this?"

"In a prison cell. Inside a skeleton's mouth."

Fu Qian pointed upward.

"So you were locked inside? That makes sense... you bear the traces of fading."

Did she just say fading?

Fu Qian's brow twitched.

"What exactly is this thing?"

"What is it..."

The Witch pondered for a moment before suddenly breaking into a smile.

In the next instant, the hard Pus Stone rapidly melted in her hand, turning into a pool of swirling red and black liquid.

The liquid, gleaming with the colors of an oil slick, suddenly ballooned into the shape of an illusory dragon's head.

Unlike the dragon head that appeared when Fu Qian unleashed his breath, this one was incredibly grotesque, filled with a sense of rot and depravity.

The next moment, the dragon's maw opened wide, spewing a purplish-brown cone of mist.

A putrid, rotting stench instantly flooded the Underground, and visibility plummeted.

By the time the breath ended, the Pus Stone in the Witch's hand had been entirely consumed.

"Are you trying to tell me that this thing and my power are essentially the same?"

Having realized immediately that the mist was completely unavoidable, Fu Qian had simply stood his ground and given up on struggling.

Now that she had stopped, he decided to ask her directly.

"Not you. Your kind."

"This is a fragment of the Pus of Man—the product of your corrupted faith. You can essentially think of it as the polar opposite of fading."

"So you had better be careful. It just might come looking for you."

The Witch looked at him with that same enigmatic smile. Then, as if suddenly thinking of something else, she reached out her hand again.

"There's actually something else of interest here!"

In the next moment, Fu Qian watched helplessly as his pocket opened once more. Out flew a rusty key—the one he had pulled off the jailer.

Catching the key, the Witch turned it over with great interest. A cluster of shimmering starlight suddenly blossomed at her fingertips.

An instant later, the rust vanished from the key. A crystalline, starry glow enveloped its surface, making it look profoundly majestic.

"It now bears the aura of the starry sky. It seems it can open somewhere mysterious."

Do you take me for a three-year-old?

Fu Qian watched her spout nonsense with a deadpan expression.

The aura of the starry sky... Even an idiot could see the key only changed after you touched it!

"There."

The Witch raised her hand, and the modified key drifted slowly back into Fu Qian's hand.

"Take the Starlight Key, and go fulfill your duty."

"Blasphemer."

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