Eldritch Horror Theatre

To think it truly left absolutely no trace. An extra one just appeared out of nowhere?

Although he had fully anticipated this possibility, seeing it presented so plainly right in front of him still made him marvel at the sheer absurdity of things.

Hilary's Doll. They were identical, without a single difference.

It was obvious now what Dorian's earlier surprise had meant. He hadn't been shocked to find a missing doll in Fu Qian's hands; he was shocked because he didn't know when he had made two of them, or how one had ended up with Fu Qian.

Looking at it from this angle, if he visited Bro Downcast a few more times, could he collect a dozen Holy Artifacts?

Of all the ways this could have played out, this was arguably the most absurd possibility.

A casual stretch of the imagination was enough to conjure up countless eye-popping scenarios.

And yet, it had actually happened.

The situation was indeed looking quite grim.

Fundamentally, it represented the most terrifying possibility: he could not leave any sort of mark or trace on the Natives.

This included taking away items of a transcendent nature.

He had every reason to suspect that if he visited again, Hilaria would still be the steadfast believer who had never removed her mask, and the dark night bride Sarah would still be resting quietly on her Deck Chair, nurturing her unborn child.

To this place, he was a passerby in the most absolute sense.

It was as if the moment he interacted with them, he was merely stepping into an overlapping parallel spacetime.

No matter what he did inside it, or even what he brought out of it, it would have absolutely no effect on them in reality.

And his goal was to stop the Bitter Fruit from growing.

A Bitter Fruit rooted in this very reality.

...

Forcing him to alter a world he could not even touch—the Warehouse was becoming increasingly unreasonable.

Did he really have to use the Resplendent Tyrant for a direct, violent overhaul?

Complaints aside, Fu Qian was in no rush to take that step.

In his estimation, doing so would very likely trigger a restart.

Between a Containment Object numbered 1 and humans supposedly residing in a non-reality, which one was more fragile?

The answer was obvious.

He still wasn't sure why he had to leave at least one of the Natives alive.

But if he really used the Resplendent Tyrant to dial up the pressure on Akons, especially without knowing exactly what the Bitter Fruit was...

...the Natives vanishing along with the Bitter Fruit would probably be the best-case scenario.

As for his Mythical Form, the King of the Abandoned Prison?

Should he try observing this world from a higher Rank to see if he would still be completely isolated in that state?

That carried risks too, but it was a valid line of thought.

He was in no rush, however. He might as well watch Brother Dorian's performance play out first.

Judging by the man's demeanor, Fu Qian was actually quite looking forward to whatever trouble was coming his way.

Especially after Dorian had actually accepted his suggestion and placed the second Hilaria on a chair right behind him.

"Wonderful. A patient who trusts his doctor as much as you do is truly a rare find!"

Using the exact same grip he had used for the Long Spike last time, Dorian held the Holy Sword that Fu Qian had entrusted to his care in a reverse grip, looking profoundly gratified.

But as the saying went, eating someone's food softens the mouth. Earning the title of an exemplary patient wouldn't come cheap.

"Here, drink this."

Not even a second after his high praise, Dorian offered him a cup made of a rather peculiar material.

Encased in a layer of ancient grime, an orange-gold liquid rippled inside it.

Of course, one couldn't only focus on the negatives. The potion itself was relatively clear—so clear, in fact, that one could effortlessly see the even thicker layer of grime caked at the bottom of the cup.

Furthermore, the serving size was substantially larger than the potion the Old Lady had provided.

"Can I skip this? You did a terrible job washing this cup."

Fu Qian shook his head at the sight.

"Never mind the water 'neither gathering into drops nor flowing down in streams'—did you even use soap on this?"

...

"Heh... of course you can."

Faced with Fu Qian's first display of noncooperation, Dorian stared at him for a long moment before reacting with a hint of satisfaction.

"The potion's effect is simple. It helps you fall asleep faster. Problems like yours require treatment on a psychological level."

"If you can put yourself to sleep and enter a dream whenever and wherever you want, you don't need to drink it."

Given their openly hidden agendas, he wasn't the least bit surprised by Fu Qian's refusal. In fact, he even seemed triumphant, as if his opponent had finally cracked under the pressure.

"A psychological problem? Are you sure?"

While he respected his doctor's judgment, the diagnosis still made Fu Qian frown. He gestured at his blood-soaked clothes.

Squelch—

Before Dorian could even answer, he casually yanked another coagulated chunk of blood off his back.

"...Of course. Curses, crying... did you forget what you told me? Physical trauma is merely the surface."

Dorian was stumped for a moment, but he quickly recalled the medical history his patient had provided and offered a smiling reminder.

"Fair point."

Despite being quick to raise doubts, Fu Qian clearly wasn't a stubborn patient. Faced with his doctor's explanation, he thought about it for a moment and nodded.

"Then let's get started. I won't be needing that."

However, when Dorian offered the potion a second time, he waved it away again, his tone brimming with confidence.

"I'm quite adept at entering dreams anytime, anywhere."

What a joke. From the First Glimpse of the Dream Realm to Nightmare Dominator, his research findings could have populated countless academic journals by now.

...

"It is best that you have such confidence."

Although logically it sounded like an excuse to dodge taking the medicine, Fu Qian's tone and demeanor were so convincing that even Dorian began to doubt himself.

But since his patient was so sure of himself, he didn't seem inclined to force the issue. He simply set the potion aside.

"Now, what you need to do is quite simple. Look into their eyes. Look at yourself within their eyes..."

The next moment, as Dorian sat down behind Fu Qian, his voice took on a strange, rhythmic cadence, like a therapist inducing hypnosis.

As a professional himself, Fu Qian knew this was entirely theatrical.

Even as Dorian spoke, a sensation similar to the unfolding of a Lucid Dream quietly washed over him.

A bizarre ripple passed through the eyes of the doll he was staring at, making his own reflection within them seem to writhe.

He really did possess some sort of dream-related ability, didn't he? And it didn't seem to be a low Rank, either. He just didn't know the origin of this authority.

Fu Qian silently felt the vortex that seemed intent on tearing his will apart.

Of course, at this level of intensity, it might be difficult to escape once he entered, but it was still entirely up to him whether he went in at all.

"All right."

Without hesitation, Fu Qian plunged his will straight into the vortex.

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