Eldritch Horror Theatre

"I've brought him."

Without breaking his stride on the path to the Workshop, Oz marched straight up to the door and shouted inside.

"Come on, it's time for your grand entrance."

He didn't even wait for a response. He just turned back to Fu Qian—who was looking around with curiosity—and gestured for him to head straight in.

"Alright."

Fu Qian clearly had no objections. He gladly stepped through the door.

Once inside, he found the atmosphere completely different from the outside.

It was a massive room. Though its layout was a bit more conventional, it was just as empty as the other areas he had explored.

At a glance, glowing lines and patterns shone brilliantly in the dark. They weren't confined to the walls; they crawled evenly across every surface.

"Welcome—"

As Fu Qian studied his surroundings, a long sigh drifted from the darkness, followed by a distinctly female voice.

"It's been a long time since we've encountered such an efficient candidate. What is your name?"

Despite the flattering words, her tone carried very little emotion.

Along with the question, the lines in a certain corner of the room writhed. For a split second, it seemed as if those cryptic patterns had truly come alive.

Of course, it only seemed that way.

The lighting might have been dim, but Fu Qian believed that anyone with decent vision—provided they weren't fooled by simple optical illusions—could see that right where the patterns "moved," there was actually a seated human shadow.

It was a simple trick of the eye: the person's clothes were covered in the exact same glowing patterns as the room, acting as a bizarre form of camouflage.

The movement just now was simple enough: she had been sitting facing the wall and just turned one hundred and eighty degrees, which set the camouflage in motion.

...

It seemed he was getting a taste of the organization's lively side.

This almost joke-like misdirection naturally had no effect on Fu Qian. He merely offered a silent word of praise for the creativity.

But the question she asked was entirely pointless.

They had mailed the Key—did they really not know what he was called?

Although the real problem was that he, the person in question, genuinely didn't know either.

"A name is merely a code."

But that still wasn't a problem. With a soft scoff, Fu Qian unleashed his aura at full blast.

Since the other party had welcomed him politely, he refrained from firing back a rude question.

"From the moment I set out, I decided to sever all ties with the past. If you must have a title for me, from now on, you may call me—"

He paused, then delivered the next words with rhythmic, dramatic emphasis.

"Lord of the Rings."

You...

The person sitting on the ground fell completely silent, while Oz, who had followed him in, shot him a distinctly weirded-out look.

"Sorry, but I couldn't help noticing that you aren't wearing a single ring."

He had clearly made a small effort to hold back, but ultimately couldn't resist interjecting.

"Heh... A ring doesn't necessarily have to be worn on the hand."

Looking down to flex his bare fingers, Fu Qian looked as if he had instantly plunged into a deep contemplation on life.

"It can also be carved into flesh and blood."

...

Oz clearly had no idea that what had just defeated him was the absolute truth.

But in that moment, his expression distinctly conveyed a clear message: Your chuuni is far above mine.

"Well said."

Amidst this speechless atmosphere, their true host finally took over the conversation, seemingly in deep agreement.

"If that is the case, you may call me Yingzhu."

Following an introduction clearly influenced by Fu Qian's style, she actually stood up.

At the exact same time, a light flickered on, illuminating the entire room.

She was quite young, looking roughly the same age as Brother Oz.

The one about to administer the real test and determine if Fu Qian could join the organization was a woman with coiled black hair and long, slender eyes.

The glowing paint, now far less prominent under the lights, made her largely unadorned dress look even plainer.

"So tell me, Lord."

Of course, the title she used as she stared at him was even plainer; she had just directly abbreviated his new name without his permission.

"Why have you come here?"

"Think carefully before you answer. This will determine your fate."

...

She looked perfectly normal, yet the moment she opened her mouth, the chuuni vibes were overwhelmingly strong.

Had the organization been reverse-corrupted by its chosen disguise?

The test had casually begun, and Fu Qian found its premise deeply amusing.

Of course, at this exact moment, he absolutely refused to believe this organization had nothing to do with the Sage and the others.

The messy jumble of symbols on the wall was sitting right there. Fu Qian had even easily spotted the exact same pattern that had been on his Glove.

Even though this Madam Yingzhu—who clearly held a high status in the organization—was still an ordinary person, Ais and the others had actually been in the exact same situation back then.

Their power came solely from the Sacred Cloth they wore. The moment they took it off, they would instantly fade into the bustling crowd.

Of course, his internal laments didn't delay him from coming up with an answer in the slightest.

For a follow-up test like this, a basic excuse like "answering the call" clearly lacked the proper scale.

"Because the world is wrong."

After thinking for a mere five seconds, Fu Qian gave his answer in a firm, resolute tone.

"...Where is it wrong?"

Madam Yingzhu's composure was far superior to Oz's. She only paused for a brief second before smoothly following up.

"I don't know, but it shouldn't be like this."

Fu Qian shook his head.

It might have been difficult for anyone else to pass this test, but slipping into this kind of role was completely effortless for him.

"Gifted warriors protect the order, while ordinary people simply enjoy it."

"The former are duty-bound, while the latter live in peace with clear consciences. Everyone is confined by their innate destiny... I don't think that is how things should be."

For someone with chuunibyou, making an enemy of the whole world was always a universal, all-purpose motive. And the target didn't even need to be a specific thing—an abstract concept worked perfectly.

"...What is the right way, then?"

It seemed his answer was indeed a bit too abstract for the examiners. For a moment, even Yingzhu's silence dragged on longer than before.

"Ordinary people can also be crushed by the heavy burden of saving the world. That is not the privilege of transcendents."

Fu Qian answered without missing a beat, as if he had already pondered this countless times while spacing out in front of a chalkboard.

The privilege of being crushed by a heavy burden...

Faced with this absurdly high level of resolve, Madam Yingzhu finally fell into a long silence, seemingly shaken by the young man's exaggerated pursuit of fairness.

"That gold coin you found. Can you take it out for me to see?"

As the seconds ticked by, Yingzhu finally spoke again, abruptly changing the subject.

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