Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Yes, but we wouldn't go so far as to blow up our own place."

While Fu Qian felt the situation was progressing ideally on his end, he could hear that the mustached man next door was under considerable pressure, rushing to explain himself.

The Night Watcher's subsequent questions were clearly pointed. After all, anyone in her line of work found it hard to believe in baseless coincidences.

The suspicious individual just happened to be the Club's research subject. Such a perfect overlap was simply too dramatic.

"I suppose..."

However, the mustached man's explanation was highly logical, and the strict woman was quickly persuaded.

As strange as the whole affair was, she genuinely couldn't see what motive this private Club would have for manipulating things behind the scenes.

First they suffered losses of their own, and then they blew the matter out of proportion to draw the Night Watchers' attention.

"I understand the situation here. Make sure to track that tourist's whereabouts. I will contact him if necessary."

"Understood. His itinerary here lasts for a few more days. For now, he's agreed to continue with his original plans and then come to the Club during his free time... I've also assigned someone specifically to keep an eye on his movements."

The mustached man naturally agreed without hesitation. He sounded cautious and reliable, only letting out a long sigh after she finally opened the door and left.

He sat there in silence for a long while without moving, only rising to open the door after letting out a second long sigh.

This...

The next moment, hand on the doorknob, he froze in place. He stared at the figure standing by the window with its back to him—and at the smooth, shiny bald head on top of it.

...

"Your Excellency... Lao Wang?"

In the deathly silence, facing the intruder before him, the core member of the private Club took two heavy breaths before finally managing to speak.

As he confirmed the man's identity, he subconsciously glanced out the window.

The newcomer's entrance was a bit too brazen. Fortunately, the Night Watcher should have already gone far away.

"Please, call me Layton... I apologize for having to disclose all of that information to the Night Watchers."

He didn't even wait for Fu Qian to respond before introducing himself, immediately apologizing for his earlier actions.

"It's fine, Layton. You made the right choice. My appearance here proves that, doesn't it?"

Only then did Fu Qian finally turn around, amiably accepting the introduction and signaling for him not to blame himself.

"You didn't rush to leave just now. Wasn't that because you thought I might understand?"

Wearing that same unremarkable appearance, Fu Qian smiled, pointing out Layton's somewhat unusual behavior after his conversation ended.

"Yes, thank you for understanding. By my own standards, however, it was already highly disrespectful... I have to consider every possibility to avoid violating the Night Watchers' taboos, or being caught violating them in the future."

Staring intently at Fu Qian's face, Mister Layton's reaction was visibly unusual—the suspected mysterious figure from his earlier conversation had appeared right in front of him in the blink of an eye.

He was surprised but not afraid; on the contrary, he showed irrepressible joy.

And although the other man had told him not to take it to heart, he still made a point of explaining his earlier behavior.

...

Humans truly were complex creatures.

Fu Qian did not interrupt Layton, simply marveling inwardly at the thought.

At first glance, this speech seemed a bit hypocritical. It carried the tone of someone who had just leaked secrets behind another's back, only to be confronted immediately and cry about having their own difficulties. Yet, Fu Qian didn't question the explanation at all.

His earlier words hadn't been mere comfort; in his view, the man had indeed made the right choice.

Was he a Night Watcher informant, or an Ancient King research enthusiast? A triple agent?

Mister Layton's string of actions practically amounted to being a supernatural double agent.

But why couldn't he be both?

After finishing his conversation with the Night Watcher, this man hadn't left immediately, but had instead sat there waiting. Could he have been expecting something?

Layton's Rank was not high. Judging by the "insight index," he probably barely qualified as Mid Tier, and he was also getting on in years.

But just as he had previously remarked about Old Man Sanhao, no matter how slim the hope, letting go of the Transcendent Tier path was never easy.

Therefore, in many seemingly complex situations, factoring in this primal driving force instantly provided another perspective, helping to clarify one's thoughts.

For instance, Layton's decision to join the Club had been genuine, and his stepping out to report the situation was also the result of a rational choice.

In the face of a behemoth like the Night Watchers, all supernatural pursuits—especially those operating in gray areas—inevitably warped under its massive gravitational pull.

If the private Club wanted to survive long-term, it wasn't surprising that they had to make a few necessary sacrifices.

Bringing it down to this specific matter, the information about the Ancient King brought by Old Man Sanhao had left the Club members pleasantly surprised.

But to avoid violating the Night Watchers' taboos, all relevant information had to be confessed honestly. They couldn't even selectively hide anything, lest they be exposed during follow-up investigations.

Or, by some slim probability, this might even be an entrapment operation run by the Night Watchers.

Mister Layton's sense of propriety had taken the word "caution" to its absolute limit.

His only slight self-indulgence was, perhaps, that brief wait after the strict woman had left.

His seemingly meaningless sighs might have actually been a hopeful expectation that a pair of eyes had been watching everything all along, and that their owner would show up for a chat.

Of course, this was only one possibility, one that attributed a slightly more sophisticated persona to Mister Layton.

It couldn't be ruled out that he was just a hardcore informant for the Night Watchers, and that his current behavior was still a part of their entrapment.

As for why Fu Qian had come out despite not being certain of this—why did he need to be certain?

Perhaps some would think that after a round of maneuvering and with the situation developing so well, he should return to the team and continue acting as the mastermind, casually manipulating the various factions of Lanphilai for his own use to maximize his risk-to-reward ratio—but that still couldn't be called highly efficient.

When I, the King of the Abandoned Prison, act, the only difference for idle bystanders is how they choose to cooperate.

It didn't matter whether the local Night Watchers were capable of designing such a trap, or whether they had some heavyweight expert holding down the fort.

...

"Was it truly Your Excellency who guided Sanhao and told him to try again?"

It was clear that the face Fu Qian had sculpted for himself this time was simply too generic. Layton eventually gave up the effort, no longer trying to compare it with the image in his memory.

"Yes."

Fu Qian nodded.

"Then regarding the name 'Lao Wang'—"

Receiving verbal confirmation, Layton's spirits immediately lifted. After a brief hesitation, he shifted directly to a topic he was much more interested in.

"Why don't you talk about the Ancient King first?"

Unfortunately, the legendary mysterious figure preferred to ask the questions, just like in the rumors.

Fu Qian casually interrupted him, his demeanor transcendent.

Mister Layton's attitude was certainly on point, but Fu Qian's main reason for showing up was still the Club's research content.

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