Eldritch Horror Theatre

[...Your account ending in 1269 has completed a transfer of 30,000 yuan. Balance...]

The starlight was dim, the notification chimes crisp.

Leaning back on the sofa, Fu Qian set aside his freshly booted phone, letting a flood of highly repetitive yet delightful messages pour in.

The Midnight Bookstore hadn't opened after all.

This wasn't because his ambition had faded in the slightest, but rather out of a spirit of goodwill toward his customers.

A bookstore opening at night wasn't strange, but a boss sitting behind the counter in a full suit of armor was more than a little terrifying.

Given that he really had ruined every piece of clothing in the bookstore, Fu Qian thought it over and ultimately decided to come back and collect his money first.

He had joined this work-from-home side-gig platform a few months ago, and just as the Invitation Letter had promised, the income was substantial.

While it wasn't enough to fund anything major, it was plenty to buy a new batch of clothes.

Moreover, after his transformation into a Thug, many of his clothes were already unwearable.

That was exactly why, fresh out of the shower, he was wearing a T-shirt and shorts in the same style as when he had first set out.

The notification chimes soon stopped. Fu Qian glanced over them, but rather than focusing too much on his balance, he reached aside for his laptop.

Collecting money was one of life's great joys, of course, but there was actually another reason he had returned.

During his previous back-and-forth with His Excellency the Prison Archangel, he had executed the Za Warudo Secret Technique.

Although he hadn't found any flaws regarding the uncles' and aunties' condiment issue at the time, he hadn't come up empty-handed—the callings in his mind seemed slightly unusual.

...

It wasn't that a particular call was too loud; rather, it was the exact opposite. One of them was abnormally quiet.

As of now, there weren't many people capable of calling him, so tracking them was easy.

Young Master Qin and the others were clear at a glance; their signal intensities were all within normal ranges.

At the same time, however, the one wealthy female client who hadn't had an offline checkup—the one surnamed Gatsby—was exhibiting a rather unusual condition.

It wasn't just abnormally quiet; it was utterly silent.

While he didn't think the chances of her being implicated by the previous Nightmare Corridor incident were very high, the situation was undoubtedly peculiar.

Considering he was her formally retained consultant, Fu Qian felt he ought to show some concern.

There were no messages or calls from Madam Sissi on his phone. He had opened his laptop out of a faint suspicion that something might have happened to his client.

How could a deep-rooted, self-torturing obsession built up over so many years be resolved so easily?

[Missing you dearly]

Sure enough, when Fu Qian logged onto the forum where he moonlighted as the Razor Consultant, a message from a certain old client was indeed flashing.

At a glance, the messages from Madam Sissi arrived at a highly standard frequency of exactly one per day.

[Aside from the payment I gave you last time, I've found something special.]

[If you're interested, go to a certain place and look for a white car...]

The final message was timestamped today, and it even had an actual address appended to it.

Being a psychiatrist really was a dangerous profession!

Memorizing the details with a single glance, Fu Qian closed the forum without replying and let out a long sigh.

Not only did her very first sentence express how much she missed him, but every single message that followed also mentioned him.

Yet, despite such deep affection, he hadn't received a single call—which meant that while she was doing these things, she hadn't visualized his image in her mind at all.

Generally speaking, this hour of the night was truly unsuited for a plotline that grew terrifying upon deeper reflection.

Fu Qian glanced out the pitch-black window.

It was undoubtedly a quiet night, especially in this aging residential block populated by an elderly demographic.

But one always had to look on the bright side. First, it wasn't quite midnight yet; second, the address with the parked white car wouldn't be difficult to find.

...

Lincheng was not a young city. Consequently, walking just a bit further meant you were likely to encounter old structures and closed-off layouts constrained by the eras in which they were built.

For instance, not long after, Fu Qian turned onto a narrow road that severely defied scientific urban planning, discovering an extremely compact parking lot at its dead end.

Even the lamppost standing next to the white car was completely dark and mottled with rust.

Even though the car was obviously expensive at a glance, being parked out in the open meant its chassis was inevitably speckled with fallen leaves and dust.

At the same time, however, the car doors weren't even locked.

Marveling at the local security once again, Fu Qian walked straight up and pulled it open.

An exquisite black square box sat quietly on the less-than-spacious backseat, similarly unlocked.

Snap!

Fu Qian didn't stand on ceremony, casually popping it open.

Very nice.

Brass texture, delicately engraved, and exquisitely compact.

There was actually something inside the box, and a single glance was enough to tell its quality was extraordinary.

The only problem was that its design was a bit too modern.

Fu Qian picked up the heavy, half-palm-sized metal object and pressed a button squarely in its center.

Click!

Amid the clack of a mechanism engaging, a yellowish light shone over from behind him.

...

What had lit up wasn't a streetlight, but a window in a two-story building behind him.

And Fu Qian, whose figure was suddenly illuminated, showed absolutely no self-consciousness about being caught red-handed. He simply placed the switch back into the box and casually closed it.

That was right. No matter how finely carved its exterior, the item inside the box was shockingly just a switch.

The almost non-existent delay between him pressing it and the light turning on undoubtedly proved this point once again.

Creak—

The next moment, amid a grinding noise, the equally time-worn small window was pushed open from the inside.

"Not asleep yet at this hour?"

Only then did Fu Qian turn around to greet the person leaning out.

A light-colored nightgown, long hair draped over her shoulders—who else could it be but Madam Sissi?

"Aren't you awake too, Consultant Fu?"

The face in the window smiled with genuine radiance, offering a flawless wave.

"You don't know how much I've been looking forward to this lamp being lit."

"Actually, I probably do."

Fu Qian didn't just blindly echo her words, and his focus wasn't even on that beautiful face.

Despite clearly being dressed for bed, Madam Sissi was shockingly wearing a Crown-style ornament on her head.

Though its style also carried a sense of age, its level of ornate delicacy undoubtedly far surpassed the Bronze Circlet he had obtained before.

"Aren't you going to invite me up for a seat?"

While observing her, Fu Qian didn't question why she was here at all, and even asked his question in a highly cooperative manner.

"Of course. Welcome to my humble home."

The consultant's prestige was proven once again. Madam Sissi's smile didn't fade as she was readily accepting good advice.

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