Eldritch Horror Theatre

So the Night Watchers weren't appearing here because they had detected the Primordial Council's illegal activities, but because they had also come for an audience with the Solitary King?

At that moment, Fu Qian didn't move, simply letting the "leech" on his body feed.

He had to admit, it was a truly beautiful countermove.

Since your performance was so elusive it bordered on inhuman, and you didn't care at all about the mutations on your body or the intimidation from the Night Watchers, I might as well help you speed things up.

That way, I can see if you're truly unafraid, and use you as a tool while I'm at it.

Fu Qian perfectly understood the logic behind this development.

He had to say, His Excellency Needle Witch truly had a multitude of methods. This technique of moving a thousand catties with four ounces demonstrated an effortless mastery over the site's resources.

But the strength of an open scheme lay exactly here: even such a clever counter didn't mean it came without cost, or that nothing was exposed.

He had still gained something.

Second, the Night Watchers were keeping a much lower profile on this trip than usual, showing no rush to start a massive fight.

Finally, they seemed to be interested in the "Solitary King" as well.

So what exactly could their goal be?

During this silent exchange, Fu Qian's imagination was instantly sparked with all sorts of possibilities, including what role the Origin Council was playing in all this.

Whoosh—

However, in this grand and fervent Solitary King Court, time for quiet thought was clearly hard to come by.

Just as Fu Qian locked eyes with the Shy Ragdoll, another bizarre sound rang out, clearly coming from just outside the door.

As for why it was bizarre, to be specific, it was almost impossible to tell if it was the friction of vocal cords or nails scratching glass—or perhaps nails scratching vocal cords?

While Fu Qian evaluated the noise, its source stepped out from behind the open door.

The appearance it revealed was certainly eye-catching.

...

Compared to the previous Brother Leech, the newcomer was clearly much more high-profile.

Not only was he missing a hood or anything similar, but his upper body was clad in a short, sleeveless shirt stretched so tight across his frame that it looked ready to burst at any second.

His physique seemed to back up this confidence. Unlike Brother Leech's withered, skeletal frame, the flesh beneath that short shirt was exceptionally full at a glance; "robust" was the only word for it.

But none of this was the main point. The newcomer's most shocking feature was his neck.

Without needing to use any supernatural perception, Fu Qian could clearly see his blood vessels, windpipe, and even his bones.

The flesh that should have wrapped them had been stripped away completely. Even the upper and lower edges were sharply defined, looking exactly as if it had been deliberately carved out.

At the same time, it wasn't entirely unprotected. The exposed internal structures appeared to be coated in a layer of white powder that looked quite durable.

That strange sound from earlier had been produced precisely by the newcomer dragging a finger across his windpipe, yet the powder showed no signs of flaking off.

Moreover, this sound seemed to bring him heartfelt joy, as if it drew him closer to some great entity.

The problem was that he was also drawing closer in this direction.

He clearly wasn't just passing by; this building was his actual destination.

"Hurry!"

He wasn't even alone.

The instant the man looked up and saw Fu Qian sitting there, he turned his head and let out a low growl, clearly urging someone on.

Hmm—

Only after growling did the reality of what he had just seen seem to finally register in his brain, and he snapped his head back around to stare.

"Please, come in."

Fu Qian neither pretended not to see him nor stood up; he simply gave a slight nod in greeting.

...

Three people. Veterans guiding a rookie?

There was no response. The man just stood there, his eyeballs darting around to a shocking degree, making one wonder if he could even manage to focus his vision.

Fu Qian wasn't overly critical of this. From his earlier behavior, it was obvious that the man's internal processing system was likely already in complete chaos.

Besides, it looked like he wasn't the only one experiencing such chaos.

Amid this silence, the people he had been urging earlier finally appeared, and two more heads popped up behind him.

One of them looked very similar to him. She also had a normal human face—female—and the neck supporting it had been meticulously hollowed out and powdered—

Actually, it seemed he had been somewhat mistaken. The whiteness on their necks didn't look like the result of cosmetic powder; it appeared to have grown naturally.

The one walking at the very back was a short man, slightly younger than the other two.

His biggest difference was that his neck wasn't held quite as high, and its skin and flesh still appeared intact.

At the same time, a powdery substance resembling the frost on a dried persimmon could be seen on his outer skin, matching the shade of the other two.

In fact, Fu Qian was fairly certain that the substance truly was like the sugar frost on dried persimmons—it was seeping out from the inside.

Also, it seemed clear what this team was here to do.

While evaluating the trio's appearance, Fu Qian also noticed the item in the female white-collar worker's hand.

It was a uniquely shaped small knife—slender and sharp, with one end shaped like a tiny peach. It easily brought to mind a specific tool known as a Pig Castration Knife, as well as the sharp boundaries carved into their necks.

Were they planning to do the same thing to this remaining rookie? Was that why they had specifically come to this place where the dream began?

Relying on his powerful empathy, Fu Qian easily deduced the likely goal of the squad before him and realized he was somewhat in the way.

Of course, self-awareness was one thing, but Fu Qian had absolutely no intention of acting on it by standing up and making room for them.

...

Facts proved that human adaptability truly was infinite.

Six wildly darting eyeballs had clearly noticed Fu Qian sitting inside.

And once the male white-collar worker's mind started turning again, he simply continued to lead his team, walking straight in.

Along the way, he neither responded to Fu Qian's greeting nor showed any disgust or attempted to drive him out. Instead, he treated the spot as if it were completely empty, ignoring him outright.

He had to admit, considering their mental state, this proactive psychological invisibility actually seemed somewhat reasonable.

"Right here."

While Fu Qian made his mental critiques, the male white-collar worker had already motioned for the rookie to sit cross-legged on the floor.

In contrast, the rookie's reaction was clearly more human. As he followed the instructions, he even glanced over in Fu Qian's direction.

However, as he followed the steps, some sort of craving seemed to be rapidly ignited. Soon, the rookie was sitting with his back perfectly straight, less than two meters away.

Was it really just as he thought—helping a rookie undergo a metamorphosis?

It was quite a good spot for a spectator, and Fu Qian watched without an ounce of restraint.

From this angle, he could see that the rookie's neck was covered in more than just sugar frost.

The surface flesh and skin seemed to have become brittle, making cracking sounds as they were squeezed by the various internal structures during his movements.

Crack—

An even louder noise erupted the next moment. The highly decisive male white-collar worker had already brought the knife down, helping to sever these mortal shackles.

And the flesh truly was as brittle as an eggshell, flaking off piece by piece.

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