Eldritch Horror Theatre

This probably won't work.

With just a single glance, Fu Qian made his judgment of the tranquil Warehouse.

No matter how well it treated its employees, it wouldn't be so reckless as to just hand over a controlling stake.

Since the item was a one-time consumable, Fu Qian wasn't about to waste this precious opportunity on stabbing the Warehouse in the back.

Not to mention that even if it worked, it might not be a good thing.

The Warehouse's poor condition was visible to the naked eye, and he had already mocked it more than once. Although it still looked like it had office space, heaven only knew how much of a deficit it was actually running.

Even if he successfully acquired equity, it would probably be no different from Jiang Yuanliang inviting him to join his indie studio.

He currently worked on contract, clocking in and out on time for a salary with extra income upon completion—how carefree was that? Why wade into muddy waters?

Such an outrageous item definitely needed to be saved for an auspicious day to be put to proper use.

It was indeed slender and holy; the Warehouse hadn't misused its adjectives.

It wasn't short by any means. The curved blade was no wider than a finger, strangely elegant in shape, and so thin it was practically two-dimensional—yet it wasn't transparent.

As he fiddled with it, both surfaces reflected constantly shifting colors with a texture akin to the glazed sky he had seen in the Realm of Bliss.

Because the colors surged like water, it lacked any clear translucence. Instead, it carried a heaviness like the rolling dust of the mundane world, and its physical weight was certainly not light either.

It really was a special reward.

This visual impression reminded him of the boiling pleasure in his mind. Recalling everything from this trip, Fu Qian was curious about the origin of such an item.

It was well known that most of his task rewards came from fleecing the Warehouse's targets. Did this item come from Excellency Stomach?

Logically, it made sense. It conflicted somewhat with the style of Paradise, and He was clearly the biggest loser this time. The word "pollution" was also quite fitting.

But regarding its ability to ignore those four great absolutes, that still felt a bit exaggerated for His Excellency.

Even though the oppressive feeling had been strong, nothing in their previous interactions suggested Excellency Stomach was dominant to that extent.

Yet if it didn't come from Him but from the Realm of Bliss instead, that implication felt even more off.

At this point, it seemed he had already witnessed both the hell and the heaven of this world, and he could only say both of their styles were a bit eccentric.

[Today's task has been completed. You may now leave the Warehouse. Weekly work progress: 4/4]

At this moment, the Warehouse's considerate reminder chimed in. Fu Qian finally set down his harvest from the trip and checked himself over.

Ah, this is already the third set of clothes.

From the time he changed into this outfit until now, barely twenty hours had passed.

What a pity. It seemed he couldn't go change clothes just yet.

Fu Qian evaluated the age restriction level of the pleasure roiling in his consciousness. Deciding that even if Young Master Qin and the others lived to be eighteen twenty times over, they still wouldn't be old enough to handle it, he abandoned the idea of activating the Imprint on his wrist.

Instead, he stood up and walked toward the depths of the Warehouse.

...

"Let me see, 1-002..."

Muttering to himself, Fu Qian quickly found the square Box corresponding to the task.

Compared to its reputation, it wasn't very large; it likely couldn't even hold a human head inside.

Sizing it up, Fu Qian casually opened it.

While he planned to find an opportunity to explore the Realm of Bliss later, there was absolutely no reason to ignore the clue sitting right in front of him—hmm?

Fu Qian reached in and pulled out a gold-rimmed Mirror.

Indeed, it really was a mirror. It was perfectly round, although the craftsmanship was rather average.

Fu Qian aimed it at his face. The reflection was very clear, but slightly warped and distorted.

He naturally didn't think the grand Realm of Bliss had been stuffed directly into this Box. Judging from previous situations, this was more likely a symbolic marker.

But wasn't this marker a bit cheap?

Fu Qian turned it over and over in his hands, finding absolutely no intricate decorations on it.

However, that didn't mean he had gained nothing—the Mirror gave off a slender and holy feeling.

That was right, the exact same adjectives as the World Poison. Even their visual impressions were quite identical, reflecting special lusters as he manipulated it.

At a glance, if it hadn't looked completely intact, one might have mistakenly thought his special reward had been chipped right off of it.

His previous intuition had been correct. The composition of this Realm of Bliss was probably a bit complicated.

Very nice... To have reaped such a harvest so quickly left Fu Qian visibly satisfied. After confirming there was nothing else of interest, he casually placed the Mirror back.

The object couldn't be taken away. He had tested it before: if they left a certain range, Warehouse Items automatically returned to their original positions. The same rule applied if they suffered an impact.

Just as the lid closed, Fu Qian raised his hand and slipped the Emissary—which he had already grabbed—onto his face.

Stepping into the Laboratory once again, he found it still dead silent and empty.

Scanning outside the window in the dark and confirming the world was still at peace, Fu Qian stretched lazily and turned to head upstairs.

In accordance with the renovation requirements from back then, the rest area belonging to the person in charge of the Laboratory was unreasonably luxurious.

Although there weren't any clothes in the wardrobe, it was enough for a rest. After briefly washing up, Fu Qian lay down to sleep in his ruined clothes.

...

The rare, quiet night quickly passed.

And as an academic leader, during such an Autumn of Many Troubles, there was naturally no reason for him to sleep in.

"You're actually not up yet?"

Of course, Fu Qian always reserved the right to be flexible with his reasoning.

He had slept right through until broad daylight, waking only when the bedroom door was yanked open.

Classmate Liushuang certainly wouldn't be this impolite. The visitor was none other than the one with higher academic literacy: Professor Lisa.

After her past two days of rest, her energy and spirit were clearly much better. She glared brightly at Fu Qian lying there, seemingly unable to believe that this interim spokesperson of the Apocalypse was actually slacking off so much.

"What's the rush? Is Cass back?"

In response, Fu Qian sat up while asking his own question, subtly reminding her to consider the conduct of the actual person in charge.

"No... I just heard that the matters over at the Benevolent Curse Institute seem to be resolved."

Professor Lisa's arrogant momentum stalled instantly. Dropping her voice a few octaves, she stated the purpose of her visit.

"But according to that guy's habits, since things are resolved, he should be back soon."

Furthermore, after being influenced over the past few days, her roasting skills had also improved. She immediately snorted, emphasizing the Dean of the Apocalypse's special schedule.

Clearly, she had no respect whatsoever for that old man.

"So is it really resolved? Are there any discoveries you can share? Judging by your appearance, the process seems to have been somewhat dangerous?"

Casually deploying a Three-Stage Questioning the next moment, Professor Lisa plopped right down on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were bright and piercing, revealing her extreme curiosity.

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