Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Logical and well-founded, but you might have overlooked a minor detail: the weapon's original owner died precisely because I was there holding the line for him."

Fu Qian did not hold back his praise for Brother Zhao Ran's clear-headed plan.

"Alright, lead the way."

To avoid dampening the other man's enthusiasm, he refrained from saying anything to spoil the mood, decisively demonstrating his action-oriented demeanor.

"I think some things are better said upfront... No matter who you are, the fact that I've managed to survive here until now means I should be a bit harder to deal with than the original owner of this weapon."

However, this straightforwardness actually made the assassin hesitate. After weighing his words for a moment, he decided to offer a warning.

"Your strength does appear to be greater."

The reasoning was flawless. Fu Qian pragmatically evaluated Old Man Feng once more.

"Very well, let's go."

After exiting the Secret Room, they didn't even need to retrace their steps. Zhao Ran soon led Fu Qian to another corner of the hall.

An exaggeratedly large stone table sat there. Ultimately, however, it was just an ordinary object. Before Fu Qian could say anything, Zhao Ran pushed it aside with one hand.

The wall revealed behind it contained a perfectly smooth, rounded tunnel.

"I made this one myself. It can take us directly over there."

Before entering, Zhao Ran took the initiative to explain.

This made sense. No matter where it led in that Church, it would have been too much of an insult to suggest that Old Man Feng hadn't discovered such a tunnel over the course of decades.

Giving a slight nod, Fu Qian followed him inside.

...

It was indeed fine craftsmanship; even the location of the exit was perfectly sensible.

The tunnel wasn't too long, and the architectural styles within it remained as diverse as ever.

After passing through several walls of varying thicknesses, the view suddenly opened up once again.

For Fu Qian, it was easy to confirm that this was exactly where Old Man Feng used to cultivate in seclusion.

Furthermore, the location of the exit had been chosen with great care. Not only was it suspended in midair, but thanks to the concealment provided by the surrounding architecture, it was extremely difficult to spot from below.

Conversely, one did not even need to step outside to have a panoramic view of the Stone Seat below, along with the giant markers surrounding it.

"It's here. I planted it on the left side of that seat back then."

Evaluating the scene, Fu Qian spoke up, providing a more detailed supplement to his previous statement.

"That's exactly where I picked it up."

Certain doubts were finally dispelled completely, though unfortunately, Zhao Ran only looked more solemn.

Accepting that the Long Halberd had been placed in the right location and confirming there was no unusual movement below, he was the first to jump down.

It was unbearable to look back upon the past.

Following him down, Fu Qian landed exactly between two of the "hands" of the marker.

Strolling leisurely through it, Fu Qian recalled the scene of his past visit with the former Dean here, inevitably sighing deeply at the ruthlessness of time.

Moreover, a quick glance made it easy to confirm that the markers in the hall were identical in shape to the graffiti back there—but that was exactly the problem.

At the end of the day, it was all just a pile of garbage. Back when he was exchanging kiting techniques with Dean Feng here, it was inevitable that a portion of it had been messed up, to say nothing of the Old Man's final self-destruction.

Yet, upon seeing it again, it was perfectly neat and tidy once more?

"Did you find anything?"

His temporary teammate was as sensible as expected, only speaking up to ask after Fu Qian had walked a full circle and returned.

"It's a lot neater. Did you clean this place up?"

Fu Qian chose to tell the truth.

"No... it was exactly this neat the first time I found this place."

Taken aback for a moment, Zhao Ran's tone grew somewhat heavy.

...

"So it has a special vitality just like those graffiti, and repaired itself?"

Easily understanding the source of his teammate's emotions, Fu Qian voiced it for him.

For the messed-up markers to actually become neat again, while the weapon left on the side hadn't even been taken away—it was very hard to imagine that such changes were man-made.

And if this marker was also vigorous enough to repair itself, what one would face upon sitting on the Stone Seat became even harder to predict.

"But this should be a good thing for you, right? The probability that the seat has a special connection with 'them' has increased."

Although this reaction was human nature, Fu Qian still casually reminded the assassin that he was currently playing the role of an avenging spirit.

"Well said."

It was evident that there was indeed an issue with his emotional stability. Zhao Ran's eyes filled with sudden excitement as he forcefully thrust the Long Halberd back into a depression in the ground.

"You don't like using it anyway, right?"

He had only just remembered to ask Fu Qian.

"Yes, I'm not interested."

Fu Qian gave the exact same review as he had back then.

"Heh, alright. Later on, unless I explicitly state that there's a problem, you shouldn't do anything. Understand?"

Zhao Ran laughed heartily, no longer seeming to care about his volume.

"What if the problem is so severe that you can't even speak?"

Nodding to show his understanding, Fu Qian also pointed out the loophole in this logic.

"Then you can just leave, if we don't even have that little bit of power to resist."

Zhao Ran's response actually carried the air of practically viewing death as a return home.

"Understood. Let's begin then."

Appearing to appreciate this attitude, Fu Qian casually made a gesture.

"You don't need to rush me."

Although Fu Qian seemed a bit eager to watch the show, it was overshadowed by the man himself being unable to wait to perform it. With a cold snort, Zhao Ran sat down on the seat.

...

His expression was heavy; almost the instant he sat down, he looked as if he desperately wanted to stand right back up.

Fu Qian, of course, understood the reason for Zhao Ran's reaction very well.

The moment one sat on it, they would suffer a massive Mental Shock, an excruciatingly painful experience.

Old Man Feng had once used this method to help keep himself calm, strictly controlling his exposure.

However, it seemed that Brother Zhao Ran being able to hold on for so long showed that he had his own extraordinary qualities.

After a fierce psychological and physiological struggle, he finally forced himself to remain seated.

A full few minutes passed, and though he constantly stared in this direction, he made no cry for help.

"They..."

Not only that, but as his breathing grew increasingly rapid, it actually looked as though he had gained something regarding his initial plan, his muttering turning sharper and shriller.

At a certain moment, Zhao Ran's gaze finally shifted away from the newest team member and fixed on the space behind Fu Qian.

"They really are here!"

Immediately after, he suddenly leaped up from the Stone Seat, snatched up the Long Halberd stuck nearby, and hurled it straight at Fu Qian.

Swish—

Fu Qian naturally dodged it with ease, but before the Long Halberd could hit the ground, it seemed to crash into something.

From the previously empty space behind him, a mist of blood abruptly exploded out of thin air.

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