Eldritch Horror Theatre

'Isn't this introduction a bit too stream-of-consciousness?'

The mission brief flashed rapidly through Fu Qian's mind, and his inward retort followed just as fast.

Not that the summary was difficult for him to understand.

"Abandoning words to describe taste, thereby doubling the pleasure"—to a certain extent, this could be interpreted as refusing to let self-awareness bind the self.

It felt as though the role he was playing was undergoing some sort of spiritual cultivation under another's guidance, meant to step into a new realm of life and reach new heights of thought.

Judging by the description, the results had been quite good. Unfortunately, the process had been ruthlessly interrupted.

This situation was not uncommon. It usually happened when a free trial ended and a subscription was required. If it were a movie, it would stop right at the climax—and this really was something of a climax.

Raising his gaze from the deep cleavage mere inches from his face, Fu Qian seemed to understand the source of the pleasant scent.

An elaborate dress, a black veil obscuring her face, and a hand still resting on his shoulder—they clearly belonged to the young woman sitting in front of him.

Coupled with eyes that seemed to shimmer with mist, she perfectly fulfilled every legendary fantasy of a grieving widow.

And a wisp of a unique fragrance, which faintly brought the mission brief to mind, drifted from her body.

It was especially noticeable around her plunging neckline.

Judging by the wrinkles on her clothing, there was good reason to suspect his character had just buried his face right in that spot.

However, that wasn't the first issue on Fu Qian's mind.

He glanced down. Seeing that his own clothes, while not as elegant and solemn as hers, weren't a T-shirt and shorts, he felt a brief wave of relief.

The Warehouse had at least provided him with a work uniform, sparing him from making the same faux pas as that young customer by dressing inappropriately for a solemn occasion.

Indeed, although his earlier deduction suggested their previous actions had bordered on the intimate, the young woman before him conveyed an air of solemnity beneath a facade of lust, both in her attire and demeanor.

"Let us stop here. You cannot bear any more for now."

A moment later, the Black-Veiled Lady spoke slowly in a low, ethereal tone.

...

'So that action just now really did have a special meaning.'

Though it sounded like this midway halt wasn't intended to demand a subscription renewal.

Still in no rush to voice an opinion, Fu Qian blinked, sat up straight, and casually surveyed his surroundings.

He found himself in a spacious yet dim and oppressively heavy Stone Chamber. Right beside them burned a censer of Incense.

Simply put, the room carried the aura of a mourning hall. It perfectly complemented the temperament of the Black-Veiled Lady, who was sitting sideways on one of the stone platforms.

To Fu Qian, a mere layer of black veil naturally posed no obstacle. He could easily confirm that beneath it lay a beautiful face that matched her figure.

Her pale skin made her red lips stand out as vibrantly as blood.

Moreover, Fu Qian was certain that, apart from the uniform, his own face had also been completely altered. While his apparent age wasn't far from his real one, his complexion was even paler than the woman's.

"Thank you very much, but... I still don't feel too well."

Wearing a face that looked as if his life force had been drained dry, Fu Qian finally replied, delivering a line that matched his appearance.

He didn't even have to adjust his voice; the sound coming from this body was genuinely lacking in vigor.

...

The hand resting on his shoulder finally withdrew. Sitting in an absolutely dignified posture, the Black-Veiled Lady stared at Fu Qian's face without blinking. For a moment, she felt like a Statue.

"It is not your fault. My thoughts can never find rest, tearing all my feelings into an unrecognizable mess."

Although she didn't pick up on his cue, speaking in riddles was something Fu Qian had always done effortlessly.

Without a pause, he continued expressing his feelings, referencing the contents of the mission brief.

Her words just now had been strange, but steering the topic toward mental enlightenment or spiritual healing shouldn't stray too far off the mark.

"I am sorry. I have desecrated your help."

A moment later, Fu Qian even managed a perfect expression of self-loathing, the veins on the back of his hand bulging stiffly.

"Relax..."

Prompted by his performance, the woman across from him finally reacted again, even raising her hand to brush it across Fu Qian's face.

Even through the black silk Glove, he could still feel the softness of her palm.

"Would you like to try again? But there may be unpredictable risks for you—"

"No."

However, Fu Qian instantly rejected her proposal.

"I just need someone to help me find the cause."

...

It was easy to guess that trying again most likely meant being embraced by the Black-Veiled Lady once more, experiencing "unadorned impulse and desire," and thereby achieving self-transcendence.

But that wasn't what Fu Qian needed.

Despite her peculiar attire and speech, his senses hadn't picked up anything non-human about her yet.

Rather than believing a hug from her would produce a Miracle, Fu Qian preferred to use the opportunity earned by his performance to exchange for more information—such as who she was, where they were, and what they were doing.

After all, up to this point, his mission objective hadn't even appeared.

"I can understand your feelings, but all I can do is use this method to catalyze the filth within your will, accelerating their withering and Death..."

Yet following Fu Qian's request, the woman looked even more troubled than when she made her previous offer.

"I do not possess the true wisdom for Insight into the heart. I am quite dull in this regard, and it is highly likely I cannot help you."

'Cleansing the filth from the will to attain an undistorted self... why does that sound like it's bordering on the realm of profound spiritual enlightenment?'

Though she spoke modestly, her mere description of her duties provided Fu Qian with quite a bit of insight.

First, the purpose behind the woman's actions aligned quite well with the core theme of the mission brief he had received.

Second, it seemed she had been granted such an abstract authority that she could truly bring about Sublimation to a person's state of mind simply through intimate contact.

"It is alright. I merely need a listener."

Even as he pondered, Fu Qian wasted no time steering the conversation.

After years of refinement, when it came to brute-forcing logic, he was undoubtedly reaching the state of perfection.

"Listening to the darkness in the will, allowing it to be exposed in such a manner so it can be defined and expelled—isn't that merely a different approach to your duties?"

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