Eldritch Horror Theatre

“Ah? Drive the car?”

The sudden request clearly derailed Rachel’s train of thought.

She eventually obeyed. But as she carefully drove in a straight line as instructed, she cautiously ventured a question.

“No.”

Keeping his gaze fixed on her face, Fu Qian shot down the guess.

“Then what...”

She looked even more confused, but under his steady stare, Rachel simply lacked the courage to keep asking.

Not only that, she felt the fine hairs on that side of her face standing on end.

Unfortunately, even though he clearly noticed this, Fu Qian lacked the kindness to offer an explanation.

...

“I’ll wait for you here.”

Gliding smoothly through the main gate, Rachel finally seemed to show a bit of spine. She didn’t try to ask any more questions, nor did she make a move to get out, simply gesturing for Fu Qian to make it quick.

“Alright.”

Considering everything he had done along the way, this reaction was actually quite polite.

Always a man of self-knowledge, Fu Qian took no offense at her tone. He simply opened the door and stepped out.

He didn’t enter the Inner World.

At a glance, multiple people could be seen moving about; it was the most vibrant place in the entire town.

And the returning pink car seemed to draw even more stares than when it had left.

The stares grew even more intrigued since the driver didn't get out.

Yet Rachel appeared completely unfazed, as if long accustomed to the scrutiny.

“Where are you going?”

However, that composure seemed to crack the moment she realized which direction Fu Qian was walking.

He really wasn’t going to get a vehicle, nor was he wandering aimlessly. Instead, his path was incredibly deliberate, tracing the exact route she had led him down earlier...

“Your studio is over there, right?”

Fu Qian’s response confirmed her suspicions.

“...What are you going there for?”

Never expecting him to actually head there, Rachel was struck with bewildered confusion.

“Looking for something.”

Fu Qian gave a rare, elusive answer.

“I don’t recall you leaving anything in there.”

Rachel was clearly unhappy with this answer.

Even though she hadn’t bothered to lock the door when they left, this kind of unreasonable intrusion still rubbed her the wrong way.

“Hey—”

But Fu Qian ignored her entirely, already walking away.

Clack!

The stalemate lasted barely two seconds before Rachel threw the car door open and hurried after him.

...

“Don’t touch my paintings. Look for whatever else you want.”

They hurried through the area one after the other—they might as well have gotten out of the car together.

But Rachel seemed beyond caring about the gossiping stares. She chased him all the way to the room, immediately insisting that her artwork be left alone while he searched everything else.

Even though a quick glance revealed absolutely nothing new in the room.

“Fair enough. I assume this stuff isn’t yours?”

Fu Qian seemed to have no objections. Nodding slightly, he motioned toward a pile of junk in the corner.

“Of course not. I just cleaned up the place a bit.”

Never imagining he was here to scavenge trash, Rachel shook her head instinctively.

“Good.”

Fu Qian didn’t say anything else. He stepped forward and looked at a wooden cabinet sitting on the outer edge of the pile.

It wasn’t particularly secure, and the lock was so rusted you had to wonder if it could even be opened—it could.

With a soft click, Fu Qian flipped the cabinet open, moving as smoothly as if he were in his own home.

The cabinet was split into two tiers, and its upper cover panel was already somewhat warped.

Yet, despite the noise he made, there was absolutely no reaction from below.

“How did you open—”

Rachel’s shock continued, but she was quickly cut off by Fu Qian’s actions.

Casually pulling up the cover panel, Fu Qian looked down at the frail figure curled up inside.

Dennis... was actually here.

“Scum... You have no idea what you’ve done.”

At almost the exact same time, a vicious voice rang out.

Naturally, Fu Qian wasn’t the one lacking manners and cursing; he was the one being cursed at.

...

A professional was always achieving several gains with a single action. Leaving the car here was primarily to score a free ride from a married driver who could double as a detector, but the married woman herself was actually a key target.

And the coin tossed in the hospital—aside from being aimed at the Old Hunter who might be watching in secret—was also meant for this very person involved.

She was far too normal.

Judging by her actions, she was clearly a source of trouble, yet from the start of the task until now, Rachel had acted like the most normal person of all.

She had her pursuit of ideals, her sense of family responsibility, her compromise in the face of violence... No matter the situation, she played the part of a somewhat frustrated young woman flawlessly, leaving no room for criticism.

But how did the saying go? Having no flaws was the biggest flaw of all.

In a decaying, twisted place like this—young, highly prideful, romantically unfulfilled, possessing a bit of an artistic soul, and having stayed near the source of the distortion for quite some time.

Facing one shock after another, what right did a character like that have to remain so perfectly normal?

Human will was just as fragile as flesh and blood. No matter their outward appearance, the depths of most people’s minds in this place had to be at least a little unhinged—like her husband, Ed.

That was why, from the moment Rachel first appeared, her excessively appropriate responses had piqued Fu Qian’s interest.

While he couldn’t conclude anything immediately, he naturally leaned toward bringing her along, exploiting her usefulness while observing her on the side.

Yet she had remained perfectly composed even later—including when she might have had to guard a pile of corpses, and when her own secrets were on the verge of being exposed.

Even right up until the exact moment he opened the Box, there hadn’t been a single flaw to find.

As expected, did it truly take a paranoiac to act out the ultimate peace?

Fu Qian turned his head, looking at that face which now looked ready to devour someone alive.

It was still just as delicate, yet it seemed unable to contain the beast lurking just beneath the surface.

“I know. Didn’t you see how carefully I opened it?”

But Fu Qian’s gaze remained as mild as ever as he pointed into the wooden cabinet.

This was Rachel’s artwork.

It was quite abstract, but Fu Qian could still understand it.

The boy inside the Box was still alive. At this very moment, his eyes were even slowly turning toward them, though the expression on his face truly defined what it meant to be the living dead.

Meanwhile, the interior of the cabinet he occupied had been painted with a heart-palpitating mix of red and black, drawn to resemble a small, windowless room.

So much so that his earlier posture made him look like an unborn infant curled up inside a mother’s womb.

Absolute safety, and no need to care about the outside world.

Fu Qian felt that he could still grasp what this piece of artwork was trying to convey.

“So, did he find you and ask for your help?”

Fu Qian truly didn’t rush to disturb the “infant,” continuing to look at Rachel as he asked the question.

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