Eldritch Horror Theatre

[Identity verification complete. Today's work begins.]

[Warning. Leak incident.]

After easily intimidating that crowd and getting a good night's sleep, Fu Qian entered the Warehouse first thing the next morning.

Its operations remained as stable as ever.

[Name: Pest. Designation: 1-077.]

[Today's work content updated: Enter the 1-077 Containment Scenario and complete Containment once again.]

[Current SAN Value: 177. Current inspiration: 51.]

[Entering the 1-077 Containment Scenario.]

[...1%...5%...15%...45%...75%...95%...100%. Containment Scenario load complete.]

Of course, fools will not see it that way.

In fact, not even the chosen lucky ones will think so.

But it does not matter. He will soon discover that in the deepest darkness, embracing the filth is the only way to survive.]

'No option to equip skills?'

The moment the mission briefing concluded and the scenery shifted, Fu Qian realized something was wrong.

'There really isn't an option to equip skills or weapons?'

He had a bad feeling about this.

He vaguely remembered the last time this happened—he'd been tossed into the Dungeon completely unarmed.

'It shouldn't be that extreme this time, right?'

As his senses returned, Fu Qian looked straight ahead and was instantly bewildered.

He hadn't been thrown into a dim Dungeon this time, but the atmosphere felt even weirder—sitting right in front of him was a blackboard.

'Is this... an antisymmetric matrix?'

Fu Qian stared blankly at the blackboard, recognizing the equations written across it.

It wasn't that he had any great interest in linear algebra. It was just that "looking" was the only action he could perform right now.

He could feel a complete stiffness throughout his body. Aside from darting his eyes, he had no physical sensation whatsoever.

He also confirmed that all his skills and equipment had been disabled. Even the Ring on his finger was gone.

Clearly, this was another restricted mission.

The problem was that while this had happened before—like during the mission where he met the Cosmic Pretty Girl—

...even the colorless curse hadn't left his limbs completely paralyzed.

'Are they expecting me to glare the monster to death?'

Moreover, the setting didn't seem quite right. Unlike the Academy with all its fighting and killing, this place looked like an ordinary school.

[Mission updated: Hide your anomaly.]

As his mind raced, a prompt finally chimed in his ears.

'This is the mission?'

"Fu Qian, are you okay? Why is your face so yellow?"

Someone next to him spoke, but in his current state, he couldn't even manage the simple action of turning his head.

'It's starting already?'

Remembering his objective, Fu Qian tried to open his mouth and say he was fine. Instead of making a sound, his rigid body simply tipped over and collapsed to the side.

With a loud crash, his field of vision rotated ninety degrees, sparking a chorus of gasps across the room.

Thanks to the fall, however, he could finally see the person who had just spoken.

The man looked to be in his twenties, wearing black-rimmed glasses and looking quite refined. He was staring down at Fu Qian with a nervous expression.

Based on Fu Qian's experience, there was a high probability this was a student counselor.

A circle of young faces peered down at him. There were both young men and women, many still retaining a bit of childish innocence.

'No matter how I look at it, this is a completely normal university evening self-study session!'

Fu Qian concluded inwardly.

Many universities required evening self-study for their underclassmen, so the setup wasn't strange.

He had already noticed the dark sky outside the windows, which fit the scenario perfectly.

"What's going on? Should we send him to the Campus Hospital?"

Watching the bespectacled counselor lean in, Fu Qian recalled the mission briefing.

Logically speaking, there was a high probability that a bug was currently inside his body, which explained why his limbs refused to listen to his commands.

If he was dragged to the Campus Hospital for an X-ray... well, they probably didn't even have the equipment for that. Knowing campus clinics, they would just prescribe some anti-inflammatory drugs and painkillers before sending him right back.

But it was best not to risk it.

Fu Qian blinked to prove he wasn't dead yet, then focused all his energy on sensing his own body.

Fortunately, as the seconds ticked by, sensation slowly returned to the rest of his body.

The girl beside him cleared a path, allowing the counselor to step through and try to help him up.

Fu Qian tried to move his arm, intending to sit up on his own.

Unexpectedly, he failed again—his arm didn't budge, but his neck twitched twice instead.

'Strange, I clearly moved my arm—no, wait!'

As his body was hauled upright, Fu Qian suddenly realized the problem.

He could indeed sense his hand, but it wasn't the one resting against the desk.

Instead, it felt like his hand was buried deep inside a mass of something sticky and slippery.

"Uh... I'm fine!"

Realizing he had regained his speech, Fu Qian slowly forced the words out.

"Really? But your face is so yellow it's scary!"

The counselor pressed down on his shoulders, helping him sit up properly and lean against the wall.

"To protect against the cold..."

Fu Qian responded with difficulty.

"What?"

The counselor was clearly baffled.

"To protect against the cold... I applied wax!"

...

It wasn't just the counselor. Fu Qian's answer instantly cast an awkward silence over half the classroom.

"As long as you're okay..."

The counselor didn't know what expression to make, but since the student was still cracking jokes, it probably wasn't a major emergency. He looked somewhat relieved.

"Pay attention to how you feel. If you're unwell, head back to the dorms and rest early. Don't force it."

After a few more words of caution, the counselor asked the surrounding students to keep an eye on him and finally backed away.

Seeing the crisis pass, Fu Qian breathed a small sigh of relief.

Because his motor control hadn't fully recovered, he could only lean against the wall in the pose of The Thinker, making the people next to him look on in awkward bewilderment.

After holding the pose for a bit, Fu Qian tried moving his arm again, straining to extend it forward.

This time, he finally got a reaction. His right hand swung out in a violent slap, nearly hitting the person beside him.

At the same time, Fu Qian felt a unique connection establish itself in his mind. A second later, his right hand slammed against the desk, steadying his tottering body.

The girl next to him jumped in fright and scrambled away.

"Mosquito!"

Fu Qian blurted out before she could complain.

'You literally just said you applied wax to protect against the cold...'

The girl didn't say a word, but she shot him a deeply unfriendly glare.

Fu Qian paid her no further attention. Instead, he turned his focus entirely inward.

For the next few minutes, Fu Qian did his best to flex and stretch his stiff limbs.

Wave after wave of strange sensations washed over him, and his motor control slowly returned.

Once he could move relatively freely, Fu Qian held out his hands and clenched them into fists.

So... He stared at his hands, recalling the bizarre sensation from a moment ago, and arrived at a single conclusion.

"The pest is actually me?"

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