Eldritch Horror Theatre

Defending one's rights was no easy task. For a moment, the atmosphere grew stiff.

In theory, the situation before him was fraught with dead ends. A single misstep would trigger a combat encounter, and he would most likely shatter at the slightest touch.

Yet when it came to defending his own rights, Fu Qian displayed an astonishing persistence. He was even willing to resort to force, meeting her tit for tat.

The revolver was cold and heavy. He didn't even need to use much force to make it clatter sharply against the tabletop.

Jean undoubtedly noticed this; her gaze briefly froze on the weapon, leading to their current standoff.

In Fu Qian's line of sight, he could clearly see that the wooden handle of the cleaning tool in her grip had been squeezed until distinct cracks formed.

Given his current constitution, Fu Qian didn't think his skull would fare any better.

At the same time, although the revolver was reliable, it was genuinely questionable how much damage firing it would do to an opponent with her constitution—but Jean didn't share those doubts.

"I'm sorry... can I get you another glass?"

The stifling air finally loosened.

...

Not bad.

His own rights had finally been defended. Fu Qian nodded silently to himself and finally set that chunk of ice on the table.

What just happened could no longer be described as walking a tightrope. Any rational person would most likely disapprove of such a provocative act—but this opportunity to provoke her had been deliberately engineered.

The current situation was the result of him noticing an anomaly and testing the waters.

The probe was a great success, but its value was still far from fully squeezed; Wealth Is Found in Danger was by no means just an empty saying.

In Fu Qian's eyes, there really was a route to achieving that wealth right in front of him.

The risks were a bit higher, but he could indeed extract more profit.

Although the waitress Jean had been acting terrifyingly all along, whether it was wanting to use tools to clean or needing to pull the curtains open by hand, in Fu Qian's view, it all proved one thing: even though they were in the Inner World, her own underlying logic still remained in the state of an ordinary person.

It was hard to say whether this was good or bad. Possessing vicious strength without realizing it was often an even more terrifying situation.

When unaware, she could potentially hurt someone just by sneezing.

But if he helped her realize it, her mental state would likely collapse, driving her directly insane.

It was thorny, but it also provided an opportunity—being unaware of her own terrifying nature certainly made it easy to cause accidental harm, but she would also make an incorrect assessment of her opponent's lethality.

He worried about whether a metal bullet could blow her head off, but Jean didn't.

She, who had nearly frozen half of his body into a block of ice, still possessed the mindset of an ordinary person, so conventional weapons could deter her.

This was a race.

Regardless of whether he was truly enjoying breakfast just now, Fu Qian had never forgotten this point.

Therefore, not a single word had been wasted after the other party revealed a vicious look and came out of the kitchen. Fu Qian had most efficiently confirmed Jean's mental state and resolutely decided to play the villain to the very end, and it was the same now—

"No."

How could a villain quit while ahead? Readily accepting the terms would only invite the opponent's contempt or even vigilance, leading to doubts about his prior performance.

"Tell me, who ordered this milk of mine ahead of time?"

Human nature was like this. Fu Qian had no intention of berating her, but instead directly berated that potentially earlier customer.

Although his words were almost logically contradictory, they further reflected an overbearing attitude of refusing to let the other party off.

"But, there really wasn't anyone... I just got to work, and very few people drink iced milk in the morning..."

She never expected him to be so difficult. For Jean, the situation before her had completely exceeded her control.

Her blood-streaked face showed her distress, and the wooden handle in her hand had been unconsciously twisted out of shape.

"Oh? How many?"

Fu Qian remained expressionless, his finger lightly stroking alongside the trigger.

It served as a deterrent, but it was also to move it as much as possible to keep it responsive.

The temperature of that block of ice was truly a bit low; his Left Hand, which had just received it, had almost lost the ability to pull the trigger.

"Very few, basically just a few specific people—Mister Hake!"

Seeing that he still refused to let her off, Jean, under pressure, clearly fell into painful recollection.

Then, for a moment, she seemed to think of something, turning her head to look across from Fu Qian.

"It was Hake. He sits here every day... Today he came especially early. He was already here when I arrived."

...

Jean's answer... undoubtedly carried a rather large amount of information, and its degree of chaos did as well.

Hake? His own partner?

Having the same name and the same hobby of drinking milk, the probability of it being a pure coincidence was truly a bit small.

But if it really was him, it clearly didn't match his own experiences.

Because, having been late as a newcomer, Hake had specifically driven to pick him up, and only then did they come here together; how could he have come a step ahead to order a glass of milk?

But if he ignored this unreasonableness and assumed it was true, the coincidence of someone just happening to arrive a step ahead and order milk as well didn't seem so outrageous...

"Was he by himself?"

His tone completely unwavering, Fu Qian neither restrained his attitude because the other party was a police officer, nor did he conceal his own distrust.

"Yes... I seem to have forgotten about it earlier."

Under the powerful pressure, Jean was already unconsciously averting her gaze.

"But he ordered and didn't drink it?"

Fu Qian recalled Hake's action of tasting the milk.

"Right... He left without a word, even though we were just chatting a moment ago."

Interesting, that such a thing happened.

Fu Qian did not continue asking, giving the other party a bit of a "chance to catch her breath."

Based on Jean's description, one could perfectly picture a scene: Mister Hake, consistent for decades, suddenly arriving here earlier one day.

He ordered a drink, spoke with Jean for a while, but when she had it ready and brought it out, he had already left a step ahead.

This truly didn't seem like coming over to eat breakfast.

"So what did he chat with you about?"

Calculating that there had been a full five seconds of rest time, Fu Qian continued asking.

"Um... he asked me if an unfamiliar pair of young people had come by."

The Great Memory Technique was evidently effective; after a moment of thought, Jean remembered even more.

...

Hake had come a step ahead and asked if there were any strangers?

There was no need to say who he meant; it was almost certainly the missing persons mentioned earlier.

But such behavior appeared even more bizarre.

So the reason he was so confident wasn't because of what he said earlier—that Maggie would definitely tell him if there was a problem—but because he had already asked?

If that was really the case, the motives behind Hake's behavior while dealing with him were quite suspicious.

However, this was only one possible explanation.

"So, did they come by?"

Fu Qian continued to ask.

"No."

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