Eldritch Horror Theatre

It was clear the Night Watchers had arrived incredibly fast. Siren's people had likely been used as free monitors.

The mission summary was quite detailed. It laid out the entire sequence of events, and it seemed many of his own guesses had been very close to the mark.

Though he had a slight gripe with how they addressed him, it didn't slow down Fu Qian's analysis of the situation.

Judging from the summary, the incident had indeed stemmed from a conflict between Anjing and Siren.

The source of the Crimson Frenzy was shockingly an unwitting suicide squad; the individuals involved had been sacrificed without ever realizing it.

From the sound of it, that alone shouldn't have been enough to cause a disaster.

But as it turned out, Jill, who possessed a special constitution, had been locked in that prison.

The entity inside her—something akin to Eve—had originally been dormant. The curse, however, had thrown open the doors to a new world, turning her into an Anchor Point for rebirth.

Beyond that, there was another favorable factor: the building converted into a prison was far from ordinary. According to the summary, it had made the Descent of the Knights of the Apocalypse much easier.

Of course, good things face many setbacks. This impending disaster was ultimately crushed under the iron fist of the Mechanical Tyrant.

In fact, thanks to his exceptional efficiency at ruining their plans, Jill and the others still had a chance to be saved.

This was the absolute peak of professional integrity.

They had helped him find La Nina, and in return, he had stepped in to keep them alive.

Regardless of the specific methods and process, the final outcome clearly honored the principle of their transaction.

Admittedly, their luck had also been quite good.

As with certain other locations, the Night Watchers must have been monitoring this place through special means. They had arrived right in the nick of time.

Otherwise, given the severity of their trauma, Siren might not have even had the capability to save them.

And frankly, Siren might not have had a very strong intention to do so either.

Another resulting impact was likely that his Rebirth Club had once again made a name for itself.

Of course, that had been the goal all along.

Disputes over Wasteland interests, the surging undercurrents of Dunis, the fall of Emperor Yasui... Not only could the shadow of this mysterious organization be faintly seen in multiple recent incidents, they were even suspected of sowing discord in the conflicts between the major factions.

Under these circumstances, how could this behind-the-scenes mastermind fail to appear in an act of retaliation of such high intensity?

The only puzzling thing was the organization's consistently ambiguous stance every single time. Not only was their true motive a mystery, but it was even hard to tell if they were righteous or wicked.

Casually adopting the mindset of the Night Watchers, Fu Qian let out a string of cold sneers, fully displaying his true colors as a controller of shadows.

...

Alright, time to check the rewards.

A villain's Virtue dictated that one must not wallow in current achievements, but always maintain a driving ambition—though this particular reward didn't seem very ambitious at all.

[Name: Incomplete Ominous Star Swaddling]

[Type: Special Item]

[A condensation of divinity, pure impurity, a nobility that transcends space and time.

Guarded by the four Knights of the Apocalypse, this was the swaddling that should have birthed a Deity.

Sadly, excessively brutal ravaging completely annihilated the supreme honorific name within, leaving only an ownerless, empty shell.

Even the empty shell itself is incomplete. The absence of its final fragment has rendered it unable to retain any stable transcendent effect.

So much so that its lofty Rank has become a heavily ironic joke.]

[Note: It cannot even bring the warmth of a match.]

So this was why people developed OCD?

Weighing the heavy item in his hand as he finished reading the description, Fu Qian sighed inwardly.

It was called a swaddling, but its shape didn't invite that association at all. Instead, it looked more like a cup made of a material that was neither gold nor jade.

Translucent, with soft curves and a fine texture, it was beautiful at a glance—the kind of piece even a layman would want to buy for a collection. Unfortunately, it was damaged.

Right near the upper rim on one side, a hideous chip served as an eyesore, as if some spiteful thug had forcefully smashed a chunk out of it.

Undoubtedly, that thug was himself.

The item description had made it clear. It was incomplete due to the missing final fragment, which obviously referred to Claudora.

Even though she had ultimately fallen, he hadn't killed her with his own hands, so this special reward failed to reach the realm of grand perfection.

It felt very much like falling one move short in a chess game.

Honestly, the difficulty of this mission wasn't actually too extreme.

Although, aside from the final one, every Knight of the Apocalypse had been difficult to deal with, on closer reflection, clashing with the knights could very likely have been avoided entirely.

As long as one kept a cool head, the only true challenge of the task lay in locating La Nina.

By going through enough trial and error to discover that Scarlet Angels could devour and merge with each other, and by accumulating enough knowledge to realize the target was likely an "unhatched bug in a cocoon," the core requirements for completing the mission would practically be gathered. The rest would simply be a racing game.

In the most ideal scenario, one could have explored through Jill to find that special spacetime before the Pestilence Knight's Descent, thereby directly confronting the Holy Infant and transforming into a pollutant.

And lacking the ripples of the knights, that Excellency might not have even been able to execute Death Rock-Paper-Scissors.

However, in order to gather more information, he had shockingly chosen the most extensive strategy, maintaining control of the situation while giving every Knight of the Apocalypse a chance to show themselves.

In the end, not only had he personally executed three of them, but he had also allowed the Holy Infant's death game to charge up over and over again. It could definitely be called manually increasing the difficulty.

Unfortunately, even so, it seemed he had still ended up falling short by a single basket of earth.

Because of his friendliness to a senior, he had failed to transform into an iron-blooded warrior, causing him to miss a hidden reward that was otherwise at his fingertips. Walking away with only an incomplete version was certainly a massive regret—yeah, right.

Snorting, Fu Qian felt absolutely zero regret.

Even if he tried to explain a real man's power to follow his heart, they wouldn't have understood anyway.

Blindly pursuing perfection and order without understanding the consequences was, in essence, a form of self-indulgence.

Even in video games, Fu Qian had never been interested in designs that easily cultivated OCD.

Of course, he now knew that the consequences were positive, and theoretically speaking, the Claudora from back then was merely a projection; it likely had very little to do with her true self.

Besides, even if he hadn't killed her, she wouldn't have lived for more than a few more minutes anyway.

If he were given the chance to do it all over again—of course he would still chat with her about their ever-changing Apocalypse Branch.

So what if it was incomplete?

Fu Qian casually toyed with the Holy Grail in his hand, having to admit that the description was quite fair.

It possessed an absurdly high Rank, yet it stubbornly carried no positive or negative effects whatsoever.

Even if an ordinary mortal collector were to polish it for a lifetime, it probably wouldn't induce any mutations. It was the absolute paragon of High Tier garbage.

But that was perfectly fine; he seemed to have a consumable right on hand that could try offering it a chance to turn over a new leaf.

Deep in thought, Fu Qian used his other hand to lift a head-sized sphere named Rift Smelting from the table.

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