Eldritch Horror Theatre

"What do you mean?"

The Persuader's face stiffened again. He looked completely bewildered, like a man who had finally woken from a Nightmare only to find himself trapped in another.

"You need to engage in Overthinking."

Fu Qian did not disappoint him, actually repeating the familiar line.

"Didn't I tell you I am who I am? Or can you really not resist mocking my predicament?"

Even a good-tempered fellow like the Persuader nearly exploded right then, ready to call out Fu Qian's sinister intentions.

"You need to engage in Overthinking... I know you are you, but can you accept that the 'clown' is also you? Even if you excuse it as deliberately playing dumb."

Unfortunately, that burst of anger didn't faze Fu Qian in the slightest. He stared straight at the man, his voice murmuring like a devil's whisper.

"Don't rush to an answer. Experience the process of reaching it... How do you define the clown? How do you define the Persuader? How do you define yourself?"

The only reason "thinking too much" became a problem was because one simply hadn't thought enough.

Just as he had said, Fu Qian didn't believe the figure standing before him was an entirely different person. It wasn't that he was too slow to consider the possibility, but rather that he had already weighed numerous possibilities before reaching his conclusion.

Although his current guidance was undeniably malicious, barring two extreme scenarios, this remained the most logical explanation in Fu Qian's mind.

That was right. His immediate concern had been the person's mental state.

The situation was incredibly chaotic. If the five of The Prisoners couldn't even distinguish themselves from one another, then the Persuader wouldn't fare any better.

But applying the true principle of Occam's razor—entities should not be multiplied beyond necessity—was it possible that the Persuader standing before him hadn't spawned a replica, but had simply developed a split personality?

The moment the man had greeted him with such overwhelming enthusiasm, Fu Qian had already begun to worry about his old friend's psychological well-being.

The subsequent explanations might have seemed reasonable, but to Fu Qian, they still lacked weight.

The reason was simple: psychological trauma.

If the person before him really was the Persuader, then given their history, he certainly wouldn't harbor any fond feelings for Fu Qian. However, he also shouldn't have believed that such cheap tricks would actually work against him.

The only thing that could justify such decisions and actions was a soul that hadn't yet been thoroughly tormented by Fu Qian.

Of course, to some extent, this theory bordered on excessive narcissism, and it was far from enough to serve as a definitive judgment.

That was why, from the very beginning, all Fu Qian had been doing was testing the waters through psychological tug-of-war.

His true rapid flip-flopping had ensured that ever since the "Persuader" made his grand entrance, the man's mind had been forced to endure the extreme stress of multiple whiplash-inducing reversals.

Now, it seemed the mental equivalent of metal fatigue had set in. Hidden psychological fractures, wounds he might not have even known he had, were rapidly being torn open.

...

Sure enough, practice was the sole criterion for testing Truth.

Looking at the Persuader's stiff expression—which still hadn't eased in the slightest—Fu Qian could practically feel his own sins rapidly piling up.

It appeared his earlier judgment had been confirmed; he hadn't been Overthinking it.

The decision-making process behind the Persuader's enthusiastic welcome was likely quite unusual—

"Heh... hehe..."

As if in response to Fu Qian's words, the stiff body let out intermittent, abnormal laughter the very next moment.

"Aaaah—"

Under Fu Qian's gaze, before he could even offer a shred of hollow sympathy, an agonizing shriek erupted from the Persuader's throat.

...

The scream was so agonizing that the raw emotion behind it almost became visible to the naked eye.

The dense sound waves tearing from his throat swept outward like wind brushing across a wheat field, actually leaving visible ripples on the surrounding architecture.

Moreover, these ripples weren't smooth curves. Their jagged protrusions and depressions resembled a violently shifting mosaic—a sight he had seen before.

Fu Qian vaguely remembered that when he had first met Brother Persuader, the man had shown off his Power of God Corrosion.

It was the entity's proudest and most memorable signature move, yet Fu Qian hadn't expected to see it again so soon.

And an enhanced version, at that.

At a glance, it was distinctly different from their first encounter. Even though the Persuader was the sole source, the mosaic effect radiated an exaggerated aura of chaos, as if multiple people were screaming in unison—and why wouldn't they be?

Although only two "Persuaders" had visibly appeared just now, there were a total of five prisoners in here.

If each prisoner's corruption manifested as a distinct host consciousness, then naturally, there had to be five "Persuaders."

Prompted by his earlier hints, the host had been forced into this process of self-examination—whether he wanted to or not.

As a result, the chaotic struggle currently on display seemed perfectly logical in Fu Qian's eyes.

A vessel containing the chaotic, indistinguishable presence of five higher entities, combined with five mutually rejecting egos clashing within a single will... One only had to imagine it to know how spectacular the mess would be.

Of course, Fu Qian had no sadistic desire to watch a reunited old friend suffer a complete mental breakdown.

From start to finish, the core purpose behind his highly malicious guidance had been aimed squarely at those five in the background.

It was practically proven at this point that The Prisoners were still locked up in here.

And yet, despite being such a high-value target for their hatred, his arrival hadn't prompted any sort of reception.

Although the reason seemed obvious—that this bizarre entanglement had plunged Them into an agonizing struggle, rendering Them utterly powerless to seek revenge against him—was that really true?

It seemed reasonable enough, but Fu Qian—who had always placed great faith in the higher entities—had even more faith in Their insatiable drive to exploit any advantage.

Since his perception was completely suppressed and he couldn't see the Dark Moon, he couldn't tell if this was the distant dimension the Witch had previously mentioned.

But if he really hadn't found the wrong place, then could this sudden resonance between the two moons have also been detected by the hosts here?

To Fu Qian, the possibility was actually quite high.

And if that were truly the case, what would these trapped hosts be inclined to do?

It was exactly because he had been imagining this scenario that the suspiciously quiet atmosphere they encountered upon entering had only made him more cautious.

This caution manifested in his complete lack of urgency to call the Witch inside, choosing instead to leisurely catch up with the Persuader.

As for the latter, who was highly likely serving as a multifaceted puppet, whether or not he harbored any subjective malice was actually irrelevant. Whatever he did was guaranteed to reflect the consensus reached after "Their" internal struggle.

And facts proved that amidst the wailing, the surrounding mutations were far from over.

After wildly sweeping across the surroundings, the "Divine Corrosion" unleashed an astonishing level of destructive power.

The shifting mosaic shattered further and further... until it finally dissolved into a fog so thick it practically isolated one's line of sight.

In the blink of an eye, the originally ruined expanse of The Corridor had transformed into the very manifestation of a Nightmare, recovering into something even more sinister than usual.

Meanwhile, the howling of the Persuader—the catalyst for all of this—was rapidly fading away.

Because his body was disintegrating, silently melting into the dense fog.

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