Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Blind Eye Society?

If he remembered correctly, this pattern bore a striking resemblance to the insignia on the Golden Shield wielded by the fellow codenamed Round Shield.

Having briefly wielded the shield himself, Fu Qian was quite confident in this assessment.

The Society's legacy?

The problem was that, compared to the Underground Ruins, this building was far too recent.

The work of the Society's successors?

That was a much more likely possibility.

Judging by the previous expedition team, Old Man Sage—having inherited a portion of the Society's legacy—must have established a secret organization through Ais and the others to restore its former glory.

Those individuals also appeared quite wealthy. It wouldn't be too strange for this orthodox lineage of the Blind Eye Society to leave its mark in certain places.

Rubbing the key in his hand, Fu Qian strode deeper into the building without pausing, continuing to pick out the various specially hidden patterns.

...

He had checked the time on his way here, practically confirming that this was taking place after their expedition.

And back in the Clock Tower Hall of the Underground Ruins, right when the Holy Grail was successfully contained, Old Man Sage had had his hands severed by the Pure White Angel. He hadn't died, but his situation was undoubtedly grim.

Aside from him, Ais and the other two had been waiting outside, never entering the hall.

It was hard to say what the team's final fate had been.

Whether the key he had received—or even the Workshop mentioned on the note—carried their intent was currently hard to determine.

But the possibility that it carried the will of the organization behind them was decidedly high.

So the trope of middle schoolers saving the world really is true.

Standing in the darkness, Fu Qian cast a momentarily imperious gaze around him.

Last time, he had personally opened the "true eye" and hit it off right away with the Holy Grail. Now, in the blink of an eye and under a completely different identity, he had received a suspected summons from the Society.

The cycle of karma was truly wonderful beyond words.

Although the designated number wasn't very high, it felt like this mission offered a chance to uncover even more ancient secrets.

For a moment, Fu Qian felt even less regret over taking a two- or three-hour bus ride to answer this call of destiny.

His subsequent actions undoubtedly reflected this firm resolve.

The narrow windows were almost all tightly shut, rendering their sparse illumination virtually useless in the pitch-black darkness.

Yet this completely ordinary middle schooler continued climbing steadily up the building, not showing the slightest hint of retreat.

...

So they really aren't just for decoration.

By the time Fu Qian stopped again in the darkness, he was already standing in a corner tower.

Beneath a set of three small windows, distant neon light filtered in and reflected off a floor-to-ceiling mirror onto the opposite wall. The resulting contrast painted a particularly eerie scene.

Yet in that faintly illuminated colorful area, Fu Qian easily spotted the trace of another pattern.

It was the pattern belonging to a certain Ms. Ais, the one from her Amazon warrior-style breastplate.

The Blind Eye Society?

If he remembered correctly, this pattern carried much of the spirit found in the insignia on the Golden Shield wielded by the fellow codenamed Round Shield.

Having briefly wielded the shield himself, Fu Qian was quite confident in this assessment.

The Society's legacy?

The problem was that, compared to the Underground Ruins, this building was far too recent.

The handiwork of the Society's successors?

This possibility was much more likely.

Judging by the previous expedition team, Old Man Sage—having inherited a portion of the Society's legacy—must have established a secret organization through Ais and the others to restore its former glory.

Those individuals also appeared quite wealthy. It wouldn't be too strange for this orthodox lineage of the Blind Eye Society to leave its mark in certain places.

Now the question was: could this be a recruitment test for the Blind Eye Society?

Rubbing the key in his hand, Fu Qian strode deeper into the building without pausing, continuing to pick out the various specially hidden patterns.

...

He had checked the time on his way here, practically confirming that this was taking place after their expedition.

And back in the Clock Tower Hall of the Underground Ruins, right when the Holy Grail was successfully contained, Old Man Sage had had his hands severed by the Pure White Angel. He hadn't died, but his situation was undoubtedly grim.

Aside from him, Ais and the other two had been waiting outside, never entering the hall.

It was hard to say what the team's final fate had been.

Whether the key he had received—or even the Workshop mentioned on the note—carried their intent was currently hard to determine.

But the possibility that it carried the will of the organization behind them was decidedly high.

So the trope of middle schoolers saving the world really is true.

Standing in the darkness, Fu Qian cast a momentarily imperious gaze around him.

Last time, he had personally opened the "true eye" and hit it off right away with the Holy Grail. Now, in the blink of an eye and under a completely different identity, he had received a suspected summons from the Society.

The cycle of karma was truly wonderful beyond words.

Although the designated number wasn't very high, it felt like this mission offered a chance to uncover even more ancient secrets.

For a moment, Fu Qian felt even less regret over taking a two- or three-hour bus ride to answer this call of destiny.

His subsequent actions undoubtedly reflected this firm resolve.

The narrow windows were almost all tightly shut, rendering their sparse illumination virtually useless in the pitch-black darkness.

Yet this completely ordinary middle schooler continued climbing steadily up the building, not showing the slightest hint of retreat.

...

So they really aren't just for decoration.

By the time Fu Qian stopped again in the darkness, he was already standing in a corner tower.

Beneath a set of three small windows, distant neon light filtered in and reflected off a floor-to-ceiling mirror onto the opposite wall. The resulting contrast painted a particularly eerie scene.

Yet in that faintly illuminated colorful area, Fu Qian easily spotted the trace of another pattern.

It was the pattern belonging to a certain Ms. Ais, the one from her Amazon warrior-style breastplate.

This wasn't even the first time he had seen it. Along the way, he had already found the majority of the patterns from those many pieces of the Golden Saint Robe, including the one on the Glove he had worn at the time.

But among these discoveries hidden in the chaos, the pattern belonging to Ms. Ais was the first to display any obvious regularity.

They weren't distributed randomly; they had been placed here as some kind of guide.

Just like the one before him.

Stepping forward, Fu Qian lightly touched the pattern just as he had at the beginning, gauging the change in its orientation.

A few breaths later, he sidestepped a few paces and pulled open a brown cabinet built into the wall.

It was naturally empty inside, but Fu Qian wasn't disappointed. Following a set of dark lines even more inconspicuous than the ones on the door, he quickly felt his way into the corner.

Applying force with his hand, he pried open a hidden compartment that was nearly impossible to spot by sight alone. It revealed a keyhole underneath, one that looked like a perfect match for the key in his hand.

...

As expected, relying purely on trial and error wouldn't work.

Aside from all the visible locks, there were even invisible ones.

Fu Qian found this design deeply fascinating.

At a glance, there were quite a few places that might fit the key in this rather sizable building.

Trying them one by one without any guidance would clearly be a tedious task.

But only tedious. If someone had enough patience to try every single place the key could be inserted from start to finish, they would eventually find the entrance to the Workshop regardless.

In that scenario, it wouldn't serve as much of a test of talent.

Not to mention that the doors to many of the rooms were already wide open.

Now, the facts finally proved that such a perseverance-based solution would be almost impossible to pull off—the real lock had been hidden entirely.

If someone actually tried that, there was a high probability that their Dao heart would collapse after a bout of hard work. They would realize that this was nothing but a prank, and from then on, their already ordinary self would become even more ordinary, never to believe in Miracles again.

Only by picking out the special elements hidden within the multitude of chaotic curves and following the guidance all the way could one possibly find these concealed things.

But now another question arose: what was the point of such an arrangement?

Tests and selections—the kind of problems world-saving middle schoolers often faced—sounded like a fairly normal development.

The arrangement could even be called ingenious. Those who came full of passion but ultimately failed the test would naturally treat it as a prank, meaning there was no need to worry much about keeping secrets.

But the main point was: what exactly was this arrangement testing?

Since what awaited was the power to hunt Deities, no matter how one looked at it, entering the Workshop had to involve the Transcendent Tier to some extent, right?

Even at first glance, his entire process did indeed contain Transcendent elements.

Because he had recognized certain patterns related to the knowledge of the Blind Eye Society, found the clues, and ultimately searched his way to the result.

But the prerequisite for this Transcendent significance was his experience in the Underground Ruins.

If he substituted himself into his current identity as a completely ordinary middle schooler, the content of this test seemed to be nothing more than finding certain special patterns hidden within an overly complex mess.

It was hard to imagine how this had any positive correlation with hunting Deities.

Various thoughts flashed through Fu Qian's mind, but they didn't delay his movements.

The soft click of the mechanism was particularly clear in the silence. As a professional, Fu Qian could confirm he had found the correct keyhole from the sound alone.

Click!

Unfortunately, as he gently turned the key, the lock that popped open didn't simultaneously reveal a hidden door leading to some mysterious location.

Instead, it revealed another hidden compartment not much larger than the initial small box, and even the scene inside was similar.

The next moment, Fu Qian reached inside and pulled out a heavy gold coin, along with another slip of paper wrapped around it.

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