Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Keys might be the same, but there were many types of gold coins.

From Brother Oz's praise, Fu Qian easily came to a conclusion.

After all, if the Key he was given corresponded one-to-one with a lock, then the specific gold coin he received had been fixed from the start. It had nothing to do with him having a good eye.

That wasn't surprising. Even Saints belonged to different constellations.

Considering the pattern he had chosen as his guide clearly shared an origin with the one on Ais's breastplate, this entire "the goddess is waiting" setup might have been her handiwork.

From this perspective, although the gold coin itself lacked any Transcendent effects, it likely wouldn't serve as a mere medium of exchange going forward.

"You flatter me."

Taking a breath, Fu Qian looked away from the gold coin and tilted his head up, as if gazing into the infinite distance.

"As for losing..."

"You have no idea what I have wagered, just as you have no idea why I will never lose..."

...

So what exactly did you wager?

The eyes finally revealed beneath Brother Oz's sunglasses were small, but they could certainly be considered spirited.

And at this moment, hearing the young man's shocking declaration, they grew even more spirited.

He stared wide-eyed at Fu Qian's face, making his bewildered inner thoughts quite easy to read.

It seemed that for a recruited candidate, Fu Qian's level of chuuni was still a bit too extreme.

"So why is it unforgettable? Is there a story behind this pattern?"

After parking the car, the guide actually froze in place without saying a word. Fu Qian didn't mind much.

Having expressed his unstoppable resolve, he frowned slightly under the other man's scrutiny, displaying his more delicate side.

Being hot-blooded didn't mean being simple-minded. He had clearly noticed the details in the guide's words.

And, of course, the details in his appearance.

As he asked his question, it was easy to notice that the pupil of Brother Oz's left eye was not only exceptionally dark, but also shaped differently from a normal person's.

"Your eye..."

Looking thoughtful, Fu Qian completely skipped over the previous question.

"Heh... this is why I have to wear glasses."

Spared the trouble of answering a question, Brother Oz looked a bit more relaxed, though that was nothing compared to the joy of having his extraordinary trait discovered.

"And just as I said, your observation skills are indeed quite good—"

"Does wearing that make your eye dry?"

Unfortunately, before he could transition from praising Fu Qian to praising himself, he was bluntly interrupted.

...

With a bizarre shape that forced him to hide it behind sunglasses, that eye did look rather intimidating at first glance.

But it lacked any Transcendent aura—at least in front of a Tier 2 with ninety-nine inspiration.

Rather than believing a supreme God had condescended to personally welcome a rookie, Fu Qian leaned more toward complimenting the high quality of the colored contact lens.

"Are you trying to say it's fake?"

However, to Oz, who had just been full of unwavering conviction, the nature of this comment was clearly far more severe than being told he was wearing fake sneakers on a basketball court.

His face instantly turned cold. As his mismatched pupils swept over Fu Qian, his tone grew remarkably hostile.

"The quality is quite good. I personally appreciate it a lot. I just didn't want to listen to the backstory that was about to follow."

Fu Qian showed no intention of backing down.

Many people harbored misconceptions about chuuni youths, subconsciously treating them as hot-blooded fools who easily believed in all sorts of fictional constructs.

Little did they know, the true spirit of chuuni lay precisely in the absolute confidence of having seen through everything within one's cognitive scope.

And Fu Qian had no intention of hiding his profound understanding of this concept.

"So you're saying the gold coin in your hand is fake, too? That everything from earlier until this very moment has been nothing but a meticulously planned farce?"

Naturally, this provoked a reaction; Oz's expression turned even colder.

Going from a guide of the mystical world to a jumping clown was undoubtedly a transition he found hard to accept.

"So you think I can't even tell whether this is real Gold or not?"

Fu Qian still didn't retreat in the slightest. As he casually threw the question back, he even let out a cold laugh.

"From the moment I accepted that Key, I have never doubted the call of destiny."

"That is why I could head to that place just now without hesitation, firmly believing that I would find what was hidden, and why I wasn't the least bit surprised when I actually did."

"What I want to say is very simple: put away those pointless stories, and do not test my resolve with Lies."

"From the moment I made my choice, I was already prepared for whatever comes..."

...

Ignorant hot-bloodedness often cools just as easily. Chuuni, similarly, has its high-end and low-end tiers.

[Enter the Workshop; the power to hunt Gods awaits.]

Even if he couldn't be sure yet whether a "Sacred Cloth" would actually be handed out in the end, Fu Qian didn't think simple hot-bloodedness alone would be enough to pass the test for such a special honor—he had to be more extreme.

Like a heaven-ordained confidence that required no justification.

The point of exposing Brother Oz's act wasn't to make himself seem less chuuni, but rather, more chuuni.

Since he had decided not to waste this persona the Warehouse had helped prepare, and to properly experience the organizational culture of the Post-Blind Eye Society while completing his mission, he naturally had to be professional about it.

And it seemed the effect was quite good.

Despite the disdainful response, the displeasure on Brother Oz's face quickly froze in that moment, eventually settling into a look of profound meaning.

"It looks like we've welcomed a rather unique candidate."

"You're right; this is indeed fake."

Pointing at his left eye, he was quite frank, though in the end, he couldn't bear to actually dig the colored contact lens out.

"I won't comment on your other feelings, but I am very much looking forward to your upcoming performance... Let's go."

As he spoke, he had already opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"So this is the Workshop?"

A person with blind confidence is invincible. Showing no sign of stage fright, Fu Qian stepped out and followed him, casually asking the question as he surveyed their surroundings.

"No."

Oz didn't turn his head, but he answered quickly. As he spoke, he even tilted his head up at a faint forty-five-degree angle, even though there was nothing up there but an opaque ceiling.

"But this is the mandatory path to reach the Workshop, and it's also where you need to prove yourself."

...

Truly a crouching tiger, hidden dragon situation—not to be underestimated!

Seeing Oz instantly repair his shattered pretentious aura, even someone as strong as Fu Qian couldn't help but secretly praise him in that moment.

But as a candidate possessing the heart of the strong, he naturally wouldn't be shaken in the slightest.

Without saying another word, as his field of vision suddenly opened up while walking, Fu Qian looked around and naturally focused his gaze on the only spot in this courtyard that emitted a faint glimmer of light.

Similar to the various patterns he had seen in that "abandoned building" not long ago, these were smeared onto the interior wall of a certain room using some special pigment.

But they were only similar, because Fu Qian could tell at a glance that these were the original, undistorted versions.

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