Eldritch Horror Theatre

You never know how much effort an opponent expends just to look intimidating.

Fu Qian knew his body was pushed to the absolute brink; he might not even be able to stand up and walk.

But as mentioned before—Jean did not know that.

Seeing a guess that would determine her life or death handled so casually seemed to fill her with profound sorrow.

This emotion was so overpowering that it miraculously steadied her trembling body.

Every external concern, even the puzzles she could not comprehend, ceased to matter in this moment.

Heads or tails...

"Can I just confirm... which side is heads? The one with the face?"

Her survival instinct seemed to sharpen her mind the very next moment. Thinking to avoid some highly improbable trap, Jean looked at Fu Qian and asked softly.

Unbelievably, she was rejected again.

Fu Qian continued to shake his head, his tone gentle.

"I will tell you after you guess."

...

This could not even be called a gamble. Winning or losing was entirely in his hands; it was more like a cat playing with a mouse.

"There is no way I can win like this... The result will be entirely up to you!"

Jean stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. She did not seem to realize the sheer depth of his malice until this very moment.

"So you want to win?"

Fu Qian gave her a smile that truly belonged to a cat toying with a mouse.

Winning means going to keep Mister Hake company...

"No, I don't want to win..." Suddenly realizing what the two outcomes actually meant, Jean instinctively shook her head. "I want to keep working."

"Good. Remember your choice. I hope you guess wrong."

Satisfied with her reaction, Fu Qian motioned for her to continue.

"But you can just make me guess right no matter what I say."

With her life on the line, Jean still refused to give in so easily.

"True, but I have my principles."

Fu Qian did not even blink as he bluntly admitted he had the power to manipulate the outcome.

"So even though you won't say which side is which... you won't manipulate the result?"

"I will."

...

Jean looked utterly hopeless. She stared at Fu Qian's hand pressing down on the counter and did not speak for a long time.

"You can close your eyes. Maybe when you open them again, your boring day will just continue."

Fu Qian did not rush her this time; he simply offered a suggestion.

It really doesn't make a difference...

From their conversation, Jean was clearly aware that her life and death were entirely in his hands.

There was a theoretical possibility that this villain actually had principles—that heads and tails had already been decided, and he would genuinely respect her guess...

"Alright, I guess... heads."

Taking his advice, Jean squeezed her eyes shut, and she did not even take long to give her answer.

So it really isn't the face.

Her eyelids were clamped shut; she had absolutely no intention of peeking at her fate.

Seeing Jean cooperate so well, Fu Qian felt a wave of gratification.

As for the coin toss, he naturally knew which side lay beneath his hand.

Jean had indeed guessed wrong; she had lost this round fair and square.

Of course, she would never know that his "principles" dictated that she was destined to lose this round no matter what.

This was a speedrun; who had the time to toy with someone's mind just for laughs?

The reason he set up this wager was simple—how was he supposed to return from the Inner World?

This was not a game where a specific item or a fixed exit existed, requiring only a simple task to return.

Faced with a pitiful lack of information, he had to rack his brain to deduce—or even guess—a method that could get him out of here.

And Fu Qian's first answer was to start with the possessor of Transcendent Tier power—Jean.

That was right. After accidentally falling into a tiger's cage, not only had he whipped the beast with a willow branch to extort information, but now he was going to make it carry him back out.

...

As far as he could tell, they were the only two left in the shop, and Jean had just demonstrated a series of astonishing powers.

Combining this with his previous deductions, he concluded that he had likely fallen into this place because he had overstimulated her; Jean's will had resonated with the Inner World and dragged him in.

So, was it possible to make her resonate with the Real World again?

He was not sure, but that was exactly what he had been trying to do.

Cold-blooded, cruel, with a mind like a Black Box... Through a series of carefully planted hints, he had successfully crafted the image of a supreme villain.

By fighting poison with poison to calm Jean down, and casually painting a beautiful picture of what would happen if she lost the bet, he had maximized her desperate longing for the Real World.

Her absolute lack of control over winning or losing also ensured that no matter what outcome he announced, she would not question it and cause any instability.

Everything was ready. Now it was time to witness the result.

"Good. Now let me announce the result. I suggest you count from one to twenty before opening your eyes. Congratulations—you guessed wrong."

Slowly pulling away his already stiff Left Hand, Fu Qian announced the answer with absolute malice.

"One... two..."

It turned out his image as the arbiter of life and death had been built perfectly. Even though she was panting heavily, unable to control her breathing, Jean kept her eyes firmly shut and began to count in a trembling voice.

People only truly appreciate what they have when they are about to lose it. So, could this desperate yearning for an ordinary life transform into a guiding beacon and produce a Miracle? They would just have to wait and see.

As the numbers ticked up one by one, Fu Qian even narrated the scene in his mind like a gameshow host. All the while, he kept his gun pressed firmly against her head.

This was still not some sick joke. Even after exhausting all clever schemes to guide her this far, one always needed a backup plan.

If twenty seconds passed without any sign of returning, he still had just enough strength left to pull the trigger.

It might not be enough to kill her, but a bullet to the head would definitely count as a critical hit.

There was a relatively high chance it would buy him a little time to escape the breakfast shop—but it looked like that would not be necessary.

During Jean's agonizing wait for her fate, Fu Qian suddenly felt a strange warmth wash over him, driving the chill from his body with astonishing efficiency.

Along with the warmth came bright light and the rich aroma of breakfast...

"Leaving milk out for too long ruins the taste... though when I was younger, I never really noticed that either."

Amid this transition that felt like ascending to Paradise, Mister Hake's voice drifted over from across the table.

The moment his vision cleared, Jean's broken face was gone.

Everything had returned to exactly how it was before. He was back in the quiet breakfast shop.

Across from him, Hake's glass was empty. He was staring in Fu Qian's direction, seemingly talking to himself.

I made it out. Not bad.

A malicious and crazy plan, far more radical than walking a tightrope, had ultimately paid off—

But that begged the question: how did his opponent, the Old Hunter, make it out?

Out of sight beneath the table, Fu Qian's thawed hand slipped into his pocket.

Jean's Lucky Coin was no longer there.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!