Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Is that so? I think so too."

Brother Dorian sang high praises of his own craftsmanship, and Fu Qian cooperatively lifted the Doll to offer an honest critique.

Its excellent workmanship was beyond question. As a fellow artisan, he had to admit it was vastly superior to the legendary Needle Witch, Kelin.

The main problem now was that Doctor Dorian didn't seem to be bragging.

"Do you need a doctor, outsider?"

Sure enough, once his interest was successfully piqued by the Doll, Dorian immediately asked about his purpose for visiting, sounding very much like he was soliciting a customer.

His judgment was undeniably accurate, but this reaction was a bit too similar to the Old Lady's.

Did this mean that to these Natives, no matter what he did, an outsider like him was nothing but a passing cloud leaving no trace behind?

In Doctor Dorian's eyes, was he just a stranger showing up at the crack of dawn to seek medical treatment?

Gathering more props had been the right call.

Fu Qian glanced down at his hand.

He didn't rush to answer. Instead, he lifted the sword, carved a fresh wound into his left arm, deftly flicked out a blood clot, and tossed it away.

He even deliberately slowed the process down so the other man could get a clear look.

"As you can see, yes."

...

Sure enough, doctors never liked patients who treated themselves.

For a moment, complete silence fell over the Clinic. Even the eye at the window shifted away.

Of course, Fu Qian knew very well that the man had merely moved to a more concealed spot. He was carefully sizing up the weapon in Fu Qian's hand, clearly evaluating the safety risks.

It was perfectly understandable. Since he was deliberately suppressing his recovery, blood was still trickling down his skin. Combined with the numerous marks all over his body, the visual impact was quite striking.

Because of this understanding, Fu Qian didn't urge him on, simply standing there peacefully to let the doctor finish his assessment.

"Are these things... all yours?"

At last, Dorian's voice drifted from behind the door again.

"None of them."

Fu Qian displayed a surprising amount of honesty. He twirled the sword in his hand and pointed back the way he had come.

"I arrived yesterday. While wandering around, I ran into plenty of kind-hearted people... for example, the one who gave me this Doll."

He gestured with the Doll again.

"I met its owner, Hilaria, over by the Church. Although she seemed rather quiet at first glance, I learned after talking to her that she's cold on the outside but warm on the inside. She wasn't blinded by her faith, either."

"After chatting with me for a while, she said she couldn't help with my problem and suggested I look elsewhere. Then, she gave me this."

"It really is exquisite, isn't it? Although I do think it lacks a little of her charm."

Fu Qian casually gestured at the Doll's veil.

"Walking here, I kept wondering—would it look better if the veil was flipped backward to cover the top? That would offer more of a contrast than simply lowering the neckline."

"If you put it that way, I suppose it would..."

Fu Qian was a master of seamlessly spouting nonsense, and by the time he started sharing his creative inspirations, Dorian finally chimed in, albeit in a rather stiff tone.

"Right? As for this sword, some guy dug it out of a pit. Since he couldn't use it himself, he gave it to me. He was a truly generous man."

"Of course, the most touching encounter was with an Old Lady. She not only told me I should visit a Clinic for my condition, but she even personally walked with me for part of the way, only leaving when we were almost at the destination."

Fu Qian wore a look of pure, unadulterated gratitude, appearing deeply touched by the warmth of this foreign land.

Click!

This time, Dorian didn't comment on his story. With a soft sound, the door finally opened from the inside.

...

"Please come in."

"That sounds quite nice. In fact, I should be thanking them too. It's been a while since I've had a customer."

The door opened wide, allowing Fu Qian a clear view of the medical facilities inside.

Doctor Dorian, whom he hadn't seen in a day, stood sideways behind the door and gestured for him to enter.

It was hard to tell if he was being sincere, but it further confirmed that, as far as Dorian was concerned, this was Fu Qian's first visit, and the Clinic hadn't seen business in a long time.

"I can tell."

Fu Qian naturally looked completely unbothered. Acting just like any ordinary patient seeking medical help, he didn't rush inside. Instead, he stood by the door and surveyed the room, as if evaluating the medical conditions and checking for traps.

It was undeniably deserted. The layout was nearly identical to his last visit.

The only difference was the area where he had previously received treatment. Although the chair was still there, the Dolls were completely gone, as if they had been temporarily put away.

Swish—

Nodding in agreement regarding the poor business, Fu Qian shifted the sword to his other hand, backhanded another blood clot out of his wound, and finally stepped inside, careful not to dirty the floor.

"It's fine. But your condition does look quite serious. How did you end up like this?"

Dorian seemed highly appreciative of his fastidious behavior.

Of course, a doctor always possessed a benevolent heart. While indicating that it was fine if blood dripped on the floor, his primary concern remained the patient's condition.

"Karma, I suppose."

Without even looking back, Fu Qian answered briskly, even demonstrating a hint of metaphysical reflection on his condition.

"I beat up a pregnant woman earlier. I even forced her into premature labor. I might have been cursed because of it."

...

At that moment, even the well-traveled and experienced Doctor Dorian seemed deeply shaken. Not only did he fail to reply, but his hand even stalled as he closed the door.

"Moreover, those are just the visible symptoms. Right now, my head is filled with the sound of a baby crying, and it's not a pleasant cry either."

However, Fu Qian's confession wasn't over. Plonking himself down into a seat, he continued.

"I must say, this is truly a rare case."

"I'm not denying the possibility of a curse, but isn't your condition a little too severe?"

Still, being in a profession accustomed to all walks of life, Doctor Dorian finally managed to compose himself. Closing the door, he came over and sat down, his brows furrowed tightly.

"Too severe..."

The doctor's evaluation seemed to strike a chord with Fu Qian. He thoughtfully repeated the phrase before acting as if he'd just realized something.

"Could it be a compounding of sins? I beat up another one even earlier, and I hit her even harder."

He wasn't just making up false charges against himself.

Given that entities like a Divine Child seemed to favor traditional methods of gestation, he—bearing the title of Divine Child Nemesis—had indeed done his fair share of deeds that risked provoking the wrath of gods and men.

And the one Fu Qian was referring to was none other than the Teacup-Chewing Madam, whom he had encountered alongside the Night Watchers Squad shortly after starting this side gig.

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