Eldritch Horror Theatre

Extraordinary bone structure.

The concealing darkness naturally had no effect on Fu Qian. Aside from the lingering sensation of her soft, supple touch, Catherine—who had slowly pulled away to barely balance on her feet nearby—was visible down to the finest detail.

As an expert in flesh and blood, he could easily tell that her rushed transformation into a human was far from complete.

Aside from a portion of her upper body, the rest of her was little more than a sheet of human skin bagging up a chaotic mess.

Even as she gritted her teeth and rapidly adjusted herself under his scrutiny, she merely gave the impression of a boneless inflatable doll.

The only reason she could stand at all was that she was propping herself up with a single powerful hand.

But that didn't matter. After all, wasn't there a phrase for this? Supple as if boneless.

For someone as broad-minded as Fu Qian, he didn't find the body overly deformed. After taking a couple of glances, he withdrew his gaze.

"Excellency... what do you wish for me to do?"

She had naturally realized that he was scrutinizing her entire body. After Dayun Mingwang finished his examination, Catherine's emotions were rather complicated; she had hesitated for a moment before speaking.

Normally, she should have felt a bit more relaxed, but her sensitivity to such scrutiny only made it easier to notice the abnormality in his gaze.

Even though she couldn't see his face or expression beneath the mask, she could still sense an appreciation that fell completely outside the realm of humanity.

It felt even more unsettling than a gaze filled with lust.

Driven by intense unease, Catherine's wits recovered rapidly. She realized she needed to prove her value, and quickly.

"No rush. Focus on healing your body first."

Fu Qian, however, remained as magnanimous as ever. He casually gestured for her to focus on recovering so she wouldn't look so grotesquely deformed.

...

Not only was there no room to negotiate, but she wasn't even given the chance to prove her resilience through her crippled state.

Catherine quickly realized this. She opened her mouth to speak but ultimately chose not to insist; the next moment, she closed her eyes and focused entirely on her recovery.

Fu Qian was true to his word. He didn't disturb her in the slightest during the process, merely casting his gaze around and immersing himself in the lament that things remain while people change.

Even the tables and stools retained their former style, making it feel as if his last visit had only been yesterday.

Even the scene of his long conversation with Old Man remained vivid in his mind, yet a new era had arrived regardless.

In Fu Qian's view, the Lord's reaction actually wasn't that absurd.

A world with a Prophet and a world without one were fundamentally different.

There wasn't even a need to decide which world was better. The immense psychological contrast alone was enough to cause temporary disorientation, or even drive someone to pull off some bizarre stunts.

But was that really all there was to it?

Just as he had mentioned before, if this was merely a brave new world, why had the Warehouse sent him here?

He hoped his old friends would put in a little effort and help him find the answer to that question as quickly as possible.

"Excellency... I feel much better now."

Catherine's voice rang out right on cue, breaking his reverie.

Strictly speaking, the process hadn't taken long at all. Under such obvious pressure, she hadn't dared to slack off in the slightest.

Fu Qian turned his head and looked at Catherine again.

She hadn't been exaggerating. In the blink of an eye, she was standing firmly on her feet. Two hands, two legs, and one head—nothing extra, and nothing missing.

It was as if her professional habits had fully returned. Even though there was an empty seat right next to her, Catherine kept her head up and chest out, not daring to sit down—

Of course, it wasn't out of professional habit, but pure survival instinct. Her words just now had stemmed from the very same instinct.

Facing the temperamental Dayun Mingwang, Catherine didn't even ask what he wanted her to do anymore. She merely reported her physical condition for his review, completely surrendering all initiative.

"I can tell. Tell me about your situation first."

Fu Qian didn't stand on ceremony, casually moving to confirm a few details.

"How long has it been from your death to your rebirth?"

...

How long...

Fu Qian's question seemed a bit too serious. Catherine froze for a moment before she began to think.

"Two or three months? I'm not entirely sure. For a very long time, my consciousness was in a state of chaos."

She didn't take long to offer a tentative answer, though she didn't sound very confident.

"Understandable. Do you remember how you died?"

Fu Qian didn't mind and simply continued his questioning.

"I remember—but then again..."

Catherine hesitated for an even shorter amount of time, though she stumbled over her words the moment she opened her mouth.

"It happened right here. A conflict broke out, and then... anyway, it felt like I was destroyed almost instantly. I don't even have any impression of the specific details or who it was that attacked me..."

After another bout of painful thought, Catherine finally shook her head and gave up trying.

Of course you wouldn't have any impression. Brother Ballard was already dead in the truest sense of the word.

Fu Qian felt no dissatisfaction at her answer, only a sighing realization.

It seemed his guess was correct. In true history, Catherine hadn't lived to see his arrival—she had been killed directly by Ballard.

And considering the latter had subsequently died to his Visceral Attack—to the point where even Akasha and the others had forgotten his existence—it was only natural that Catherine didn't remember who her killer was.

"Excellency... may I go change my clothes?"

Seeing that Fu Qian was silently lost in thought and hadn't erupted into a fit of rage, Catherine finally seemed to relax a little.

After a moment of hesitation, she remained standing, tentatively asking for permission to get dressed.

"Of course."

Knowing Catherine was hesitating because she worried he might think she was feigning cooperation just to escape or try some malicious trick, Fu Qian casually waved off her concern.

If he had been facing some sort of clown, that might have been a possibility, but Catherine's will to live was visibly strong, and her cooperative stance was very sincere.

Aside from her account of Ballard matching up, Fu Qian had even found something akin to a calendar in the hall while she had been recovering with her eyes closed.

The two or three months Catherine had mentioned were actually much closer to the flow of time in the outside world.

The reality was that nearly four months had passed here since his last visit.

She wasn't off by much. Considering her muddled consciousness and the fact that she likely hadn't respawned immediately, Catherine's answer was quite reasonable.

In other words, her willingness to talk was genuine.

Ah—

Unfortunately, after receiving his permission, Catherine barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before she let out a sudden scream.

It was as if she had just encountered something horrifying. In that moment, her newly stabilized form was placed under such immense pressure that wisps of black fluid tore through her lips and teeth.

Unfortunately, before any further transformation could take place, the fluid—along with her entire body—froze in place.

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