Eldritch Horror Theatre

Of course they had to leave together; this final journey had only just begun.

As established earlier, no matter how confident the old man was, it was almost impossible for him to succeed just like that. Otherwise, the Warehouse wouldn't have sent Fu Qian.

The only comforting part was that his casual nonsense just now had prompted Kadon to share an interesting memory.

Because of a certain "successful case," that organization took some special actions that impacted this inn's business. Logically, it made sense.

Of course, to Fu Qian, it was clear that this "successful case" did not refer to Kadon himself.

Even their recruiter had been buried in the dirt. How could the rest of them possibly understand his Awakening? The case actually referred to the owner of the Pendant in his hand.

Indeed, although it wasn't certain what the Unrighteous Ones were actually pursuing, such a group of eccentrics would clearly overthink a matter like a sudden disappearance.

To them, could a person's disappearance also be a form of Sublimation?

Shattering the void, reaching Paradise in a single thought?

Especially since they had just shared a meal of a fellow cultist.

All in all, Fu Qian leaned toward the idea that after Kadon left this place, the subsequent actions of the Unrighteous Ones were all taken to follow in the buried person's footsteps.

As for why this specific inn was implicated? Wasn't it a bit too coincidental?

It was indeed coincidental, but not necessarily without reason. Kadon had just mentioned that on that night, not only had he refrained from interrupting Mister Dickens's abnormal behavior, he had even provided some reverse assistance.

The first thing to be sure of was that even after cannibalizing their fellow member, the Unrighteous Ones had failed to achieve their imagined Transcendence.

As for Mister Dickens's situation at the time, even if there was any nonsensical raving or wild dancing, at most it was self-hypnosis, akin to a shaman's trance.

But factoring in Kadon made it different. Having already become a Transcendent, he genuinely could have made the process turn out differently than before.

If Mister Dickens later shared that experience with the cultists, then it was inevitable that this place would be regarded as an auspicious geomantic land or something similar.

Of course, this was only one of the possible factors.

What if the inn's owner had originally been connected to that organization? What if they were simply the person who died?

Just now, Fu Qian had genuinely felt that the style of the clock above their heads would pair perfectly with a Cross Star hour hand.

"Thank you very much. I increasingly feel that all of this is arranged by fate."

By this time, Kadon was no longer focusing on these minor details. Instead, he gazed at Fu Qian, expressing an even higher level of appreciation for his professionalism.

It was obvious he didn't mind Fu Qian tagging along.

Even so, after saying this, he still turned and walked away, not planning to reveal anything more.

...

"Back then, my father lay inside for a day and a night, and I never disturbed him until he opened the door and walked out himself."

The night remained deep, and dawn was still a long way off.

Coupled with the messy, abandoned house, it was truly the perfect setting for reminiscing.

Not so surprisingly, the final resting place old Kadon chose was precisely the room his father had stayed in.

After all, this one had a mattress.

During Fu Qian's internal critique, the old man moved decisively, lying directly onto it.

He didn't immediately enter the "state," however, and instead continued talking about the past.

"I imagine he wasn't in a very good mood."

Fu Qian imagined the scene while finding a spot nearby to sit down.

He wasn't sure why Kadon would be so ruthless toward his own father.

The feeling of gaining something only to lose it was undoubtedly unpleasant.

If, during that day and night, Mister Dickens had gone through the entire process of craving, obtaining, and then losing it all...

Then, the moment he finally sat up from the bed, he probably even had the urge to hang himself.

"We rarely contacted each other after that. He must have come back here more than once... What a pity that until he passed away, he didn't seem to ever touch upon any mystery again."

Clearly tacitly agreeing with Fu Qian's statement, Kadon stroked the bed beneath him as he spoke.

This was the shift in mentality brought about by power mentioned earlier.

Although the old man's tone was hard to describe, in that moment, Fu Qian felt that something else had been proven.

Starting from that night, from that overly miraculous encounter, the man before him had undoubtedly undergone some kind of metamorphosis.

Perhaps it was excessively cruel to Mister Dickens, but looking on the bright side, his son seemed to want to make amends for this on his deathbed.

"Do you like to dream, Anke?"

The sentimental musings ended a bit abruptly. At a certain moment, Kadon, lying there, looked over and asked a question.

...

Then you've really asked the right person.

"I like it quite a bit, but unfortunately, there aren't many opportunities."

The topic sounded as casual as could be, and Fu Qian, considering his own situation, let out a soft sigh.

"But it must still be more than me... I have to reiterate, I'm very glad you drove me here, and I feel you can definitely help me fulfill my wish."

Kadon was quite surprised by this answer, though he didn't ask for the reason, directly steering the conversation back to himself.

"My time is almost up. This should be the last thing we talk about."

Staring at Fu Qian's face, Kadon even broke into a full smile the next moment, bidding his final farewell.

"For many years, dreams were unimaginable for me. Because true sleep, to me, was a completely meaningless thing—"

Sleep was a meaningless thing? How could such anti-human words come out of his mouth?

"But the moment for eternal sleep has arrived."

In response to Kadon's statement, Fu Qian grumbled internally while offering a casual reminder.

"You're right, which is why I made all these preparations to step into Death..."

The old man wasn't angry. He even retracted his gaze and stared straight up at the ceiling.

Compared to the floor, that spot was undoubtedly far filthier, covered in spiderwebs and bird droppings alongside the mold.

But regardless, back in the day, Mister Dickens had likely stared at this same corner in a similar posture.

Could this be considered an unconventional form of samsara, or a reconciliation with his father?

"So if you really fall asleep, do you need me to gauge the situation and help euthanize you? You know that once you wake up, it won't be easy to fall back asleep."

Unfortunately, this poignant scene was shattered the very next moment by Fu Qian's mood-killing question.

But one had to admit, it was indeed a technical issue that needed consideration.

"Under normal circumstances, I shouldn't need any help... but at the moment you feel it's necessary, I would be very grateful if you did so."

Yet old Kadon's amiability persisted, actually answering Fu Qian's question in all seriousness.

"Thank you, Anke."

His eyes slowly closed, and his voice grew low, but his gratitude sounded perfectly sincere.

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