Eldritch Horror Theatre

So, was this the effect of a transcendent power, or just a sudden, vicious illness?

It was a bit hard to say.

What he could confirm, however, was that the pain in his finger was growing increasingly intense, with a faint tendency to spread.

Fu Qian flexed his fingers, feeling the feedback.

It hadn't affected his mobility yet, but if it was transcendent in nature, that was undoubtedly worse news.

It meant that even while operating in the Surface World, he risked suffering transcendent effects.

Even worse, it seemed to mark him for his competitors.

Regardless of whether the Old Hunter knew someone was racing him, if he truly retained a portion of his transcendent abilities and spotted someone carrying a transcendent aura, his likely reaction would be far from optimistic.

Even so, this trip had been highly rewarding.

For a task with a steadily approaching countdown, such gains were worth securing at almost any non-lethal cost.

Second, a previous doubt had seemingly been answered: the timeline of when Jean and Old Man Hake met.

Jean had personally stated that she was originally off on Wednesday and only came in to cover because Rachel skipped work.

Logically, someone rushing in for a temporary emergency shift shouldn't have arrived so early.

So how did Hake, who arrived exceptionally early that day, run into her?

Now, combined with the situation here at the Art Prison, there was a more reasonable explanation: what if Jean didn't meet Hake today, but earlier?

Like yesterday morning?

Otherwise, if Hake was still asking about the missing persons in the morning, where would he have found the time to run over here and carry out a massacre?

The timeline simply didn't add up.

Brother Peeker also mentioned that the two youths arrived here yesterday. Was it possible the Old Hunter had already been looking for them back then, which was why he entered the breakfast shop while Jean was on duty?

As for why he would enter the Inner World, it was hard to say. But because of the deep impression left during their interaction, even when Jean came in to cover a shift the next day, subconscious influence drove her to unknowingly pour a glass of milk and leave it there.

And by that time, the Old Hunter had very likely already visited the Art Prison.

This was the correct sequence of events.

...

His opponent was not only suspected of retaining transcendent abilities but had also acted at least a day in advance.

The situation was even more severe than he had imagined.

Even so, Old Man Hake still couldn't be cleared of suspicion.

After all, the task hadn't failed yet, which meant the Old Hunter hadn't found the White Key.

Driven to the brink of despair after multiple failed attempts, he might have used this method to guide Fu Qian into helping the search, attempting to play the oriole behind. It didn't sound impossible.

The good news was that regardless of the scenario, what he needed to do next remained the same: go and confirm the situation of the artist, Ivan, in this world.

Giving up on clues was impossible. If this really was some sort of open scheme, then he might as well counter it with an open scheme.

He could even take the opportunity to confirm the exact nature of the problem afflicting his hand.

Without waking Brother Peeker, Fu Qian headed straight toward the Guard Tower, just like before.

...

Even in this world, the owner of the studio seemed to be absent.

Soon, under more than one pair of scrutinizing eyes, Fu Qian arrived at the Guard Tower once again.

Old Man Hake's advice once again proved its value.

The onlookers didn't greet him like Brother Peeker had, nor did they react much to him entering this place.

If he had shown up in a police uniform, even if he didn't scare people off, he would have at least drawn a few bystanders watching the spectacle, right?

Amid his musings, Fu Qian easily unlocked the door using the tools he had brought from the car and pushed it open.

That was right—not only had there been no response when he knocked, but the door was also locked.

Fortunately, he always believed in being prepared. Thanks to this small precaution, he was delayed at the door for no more than three seconds.

It was fast enough that the onlookers completely failed to notice anything amiss.

He just didn't know if they, like Brother Peeker, were oblivious to the anomalies inside.

...

It was very quiet inside the Tower, with no reaction whatsoever to the intruder.

Fu Qian casually closed the door behind him and took stock of his surroundings.

Top to bottom, surrounded by vines—there was surprisingly a similar creation here as well.

From the start of the task until now, this place had the closest atmosphere to the Inner World. Brother Ivan was truly extraordinary.

Amid his praise, Fu Qian quickly confirmed that the above-ground section was empty and headed straight down the familiar stairs.

By contrast, the hanging paintings were much more abstract.

He soon arrived at the entrance to the previous passage, and this time, there was finally something different.

There was still a painting there, but its content had shifted to an abstract style.

Apart from the similar colors, only a few sparse strokes sketched out an ambiguous pattern, making it difficult to pinpoint the theme.

Of course, it couldn't be ruled out that Brother Ivan simply hadn't finished it yet, as there were brushes and paints sitting right next to it.

At the same time, the artist himself was still absent.

Fu Qian didn't stand on ceremony. He simply raised a hand and lifted the painting.

...

It was indeed a passage, but it seemed somewhat different.

Observing the scene revealed behind the painting, Fu Qian fell deep into thought for a moment.

It was still in a similar location: a hole large enough to pass through had appeared in the wall, roughly the same size as before.

But at a glance, he could see the differences from the Inner World.

This hole was far more uniform by comparison. It had become an ordinary, abandoned passage, lacking the sense of life the previous one possessed.

So... why did it lack so much of that natural aura? Could it be because the painting wasn't finished?

The scene before him was undoubtedly more realistic, but Fu Qian maintained his good habit of always asking why.

The next moment, he actually picked up the brush beside him and gestured toward the painting.

Wait, he seemed to know the answer to his previous question—

If Brother Ivan was indeed depicting a formless plant, then what exactly was that spherical space? How could it grow at the roots?

And what was the purpose of placing corpses inside it?

The answer was actually quite simple. That was indeed something akin to a fruit, but it didn't grow at the roots.

People were prone to rigid thinking, assuming plants always had roots at the bottom and branches at the top.

However, right when he picked up the brush and stepped into Brother Ivan's mindset, Fu Qian re-sketched those lines from the creator's perspective and arrived at a subversive interpretation—for that formless entity, the parts continuously extending downward were not its roots, but its branches.

The thing was upside down. The spherical area was the fruit among the branches, a flower, or something related to reproduction.

And the corpses placed inside underwent a process akin to being pollinated.

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