Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Taken as ordinary at the time"—fortunately, Fu Qian wasn't prone to that kind of habitual thinking.

He had noticed the anomaly of the mission summary's location even before the summary itself appeared.

Looking around now, he could practically confirm that everything was perfectly normal.

The shelves, the long table, the items... even the physical sensation beneath his seat.

Everything was exactly the same as returning from any ordinary mission.

Including the desk in front of him, which even held his removed Emissary Mask.

So what exactly was going on here?

Had the Warehouse recovered so much strength that it could now extend its long-arm jurisdiction all the way into the World of the Witch?

The lack of a letter delivery at the start of this mission, along with the missing option to forfeit, seemed to support that conclusion to a degree.

Having an automatic recall method would make certain operations much more flexible.

The problem was that these same signs also supported a second conclusion: the Warehouse had directly yanked him back.

If he put on the Emissary again, what if it directly deposited him into the Bookstore World?

That might not be entirely without its benefits—like bypassing the hassle of traversing the Nightmare Corridor on his return trip—but he hadn't finished his business over there yet.

He had expended quite a bit of effort to secure that research opportunity. Replicating it anytime soon wouldn't be easy.

Besides, he wasn't exactly opposed to finding a chance to chat with the residents of The Corridor.

Putting the Emissary Mask back on right now added an element of unpredictability to his destination...

And if that were true, even staying here in the Warehouse for a moment longer was a risk.

He could see the bloodstains on the Emissary Mask regenerating, just as they always did.

And based on past experience, those bloodstains represented his anchor to The Bookstore.

Strictly speaking, though, it wouldn't be a huge loss.

Because as Fu Qian assessed his current state, he found that his own injuries were healing at a glacial pace, nearly at a standstill.

He figured the Warehouse wouldn't leave such a massive loophole for him to exploit.

Since time here was frozen relative to the outside world, if he could just sit here and heal as the true King of the Abandoned Prison, wouldn't that previous special warning be completely meaningless?

All in all, despite reaping a decent reward, the bad news seemed to keep rolling in—

[Permission Upgrade: All-In]

As if feeling ashamed of itself, the Warehouse unexpectedly flashed a new prompt a moment later.

It was an exceptionally rare type of "promotion without a pay raise."

[All-In: Except for certain special missions, all future Containments will have only one chance. Upon failure, 5 SAN Value points will be automatically deducted, with no need to retry.]

...

Oh?

Was this the next step up? Going from the procrastination of Reassignment to outright shirking?

Fu Qian had wondered before what another upgrade would look like.

But since it had been quiet for so long, this sudden prompt was completely unexpected.

Still, he had to admit, it truly counted as a permission upgrade.

Although it didn't exactly offer any new benefits, Fu Qian gave it a fair evaluation.

On the surface, restricting him to a single attempt completely shut down the possibility of multiple trial-and-error runs, and even tacked on an extra SAN Value penalty for failing.

But for most people, this was effectively the power to actively forfeit.

As long as a certain mission completion rate was maintained, they would never get permanently stuck on a single task again.

Very humane. Though considering the Warehouse's opaque permission upgrade mechanism, it was highly doubtful how many people could survive long enough to experience this humanity.

Of course, that was evaluating it from the perspective of a normal person. For someone like him, who excelled at finding joy in his work, the expected wear and tear had actually gone up.

[Today's task is complete. You may now leave the Warehouse. Weekly work progress: 2/4.]

As he silently reviewed the changes, the Warehouse finally ran out of surprises and simply reminded him he was clear to leave.

Just what he had in mind.

Having never taken his eyes off the regenerating bloodstains, Fu Qian reached over and slipped the mask on.

...

The scent of black tea.

Almost immediately, Fu Qian caught that comforting aroma.

Sure enough, he hadn't missed the latter half of the tea break. He was still standing in Mrs. Harper's residence.

His previous efforts hadn't been wasted; the Warehouse hadn't dragged him back to the Bookstore World.

Though this meant the nature of the Warehouse's intervention was even more staggering.

Did it really have this degree of control over the Witch's side of things? Had the Warehouse's claws enveloped yet another world?

If that were true, there was no doubt that he, as an administrator, had made an indelible contribution—such as forcefully crossing dimensions twice and completing all those prior missions.

Reflecting on his achievements, Fu Qian picked up his teacup and took a perfectly natural sip.

"Hold on, I have a few more snacks right here."

Apparently sensing how earnestly Fu Qian was enjoying the tea, Mrs. Harper looked at him with pleased, affectionate eyes. Suddenly remembering something, she gestured for the two of them to wait.

Even though his physical body was currently in a horrific state of disrepair, she clearly didn't notice anything wrong with him.

The reason was simple: the Armor he wore was completely undamaged and still concealed him entirely. Plus, there was the illusionary cover the Witch had helped him put up earlier.

And since he was using his real face anyway, there wasn't even a need to adjust his features.

"What happened to you?"

But those disguises were completely useless against Dark Moon Pope Nelgria, whose gaze snapped to him almost instantly.

Her tone was calm, yet laced with an icy firmness.

It was no surprise. To see her subordinate Templar Knight's Health Bar plunge so violently in the blink of an eye—how could the Pope possibly ignore that?

Especially when there hadn't been the slightest disturbance in the room.

"I took a trip back."

Fu Qian nodded and told her the truth.

...

He was deliberately holding back information about the Warehouse, but it wasn't because he didn't trust the Witch.

Throughout their many interactions, the Witch had clearly pieced together that some entity was backing him, helping him grow rapidly and wielding a certain degree of Space-Time Authority.

The core reason he avoided describing the Warehouse in detail was that he hoped she could maintain a relative level of detachment from it.

Though she wasn't particularly old, it was hard to classify the Witch as a New God, and the Warehouse's attitude toward Ancient Higher Beings had never exactly been friendly.

While it hadn't shown any direct hostility toward her in past missions, it was apparent that the Warehouse's control was strengthening. He couldn't guarantee that if she gained clearer knowledge of it, that awareness wouldn't trigger some kind of adverse reaction.

Furthermore, since even a figure like the Serpent of Destiny had no concept of the Warehouse's honorific name, Fu Qian didn't expect the Witch to be able to offer much insight either.

"And you were able to come right back?"

Clearly adept at grasping the crux of the matter, the Witch didn't doubt her Templar Knight's words for a second. Instead, she instantly realized the terrifying implications of such an excursion.

To leave and return so seamlessly, without causing a single ripple in reality—that level of effortless travel entirely contradicted everything she previously knew.

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