Eldritch Horror Theatre

Faced with the sudden anomaly, Fu Qian didn't rush to act.

A void had indeed appeared in his perception, but a void was a target in itself.

Barring any surprises, it could be used to pinpoint Sir Guzman's location just the same.

He didn't have to wait long. About fifteen minutes later, the void began to move, drifting like a bubble.

Soon after, Fu Qian watched Guzman walk out.

Compared to earlier in the day, he no longer looked like a patient.

Dressed in a white shirt and black tailcoat, the Sir stepped out in full formal attire, his back perfectly straight.

Truly miraculous!

Fu Qian studied Guzman from just a few dozen meters away.

At this point, it was at least certain that he was the cause of the hospital's anomaly.

And judging by his attire, he was likely heading to a banquet.

Socializing was normal enough, but wasn't it a bit late for it?

Assisted by a servant, Guzman slipped into a car.

Witnessing this, Fu Qian finally stood up and silently trailed behind.

...

It didn't take long for Guzman's car to pull up before a courtyard, where someone was already waiting at the gate.

After stepping out, Guzman refused any escorts and walked inside alone.

Fu Qian looked up at the building. It was obvious that its residents belonged to Baerluk's upper crust, just like Guzman.

This naturally brought to mind the "old men" Bernard had mentioned, instantly deepening his curiosity about this mysterious banquet.

The guards at the gate were virtually nonexistent to Fu Qian; he slipped inside without breaking a sweat.

By then, Guzman had crossed the courtyard and entered the banquet hall.

Fu Qian didn't break his stride, quietly shadowing him.

Upon entering the hall, Fu Qian immediately found a secluded corner and began observing the scene.

This was no eerie, blood-soaked underground gathering. Everyone looked perfectly normal.

There weren't many people—just a small gathering—and they were clearly thrilled by Guzman's arrival.

Judging from their movements and breathing, it was easy to tell that they were all ordinary people.

Men and women, all impeccably dressed and perfectly polite.

Their one common trait was their advanced age. Even the sole waiter was a balding older man.

Yet, just by standing there, these people acted like individual black holes, eroding his perception until it was riddled with voids.

Were they actually all like Guzman?

Fu Qian clicked his tongue in wonder.

Like most cocktail parties, the guests gathered in small clusters, drinking and chatting. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

But after watching for a while, Fu Qian noticed something off.

These people gave off a faint sense of falsehood—not that the people themselves were fake, but their behavior was.

First, a banquet should normally have a host, but Fu Qian didn't see anyone filling that role.

Second, their every movement, even their conversational back-and-forth, carried an inexplicable theatrical quality. It all felt slightly staged.

Of course, that wasn't rare in social settings, but for absolutely everyone to act this way was genuinely abnormal.

Fu Qian thought for a moment, then suddenly had an idea.

The next moment, his facial features shifted, rapidly contorting into the appearance of Old Man Lu Ming.

At the same time, he ran a hand over his head, and his hair instantly withered to ash.

That was right—he was going to step forward and make close contact with these "actors."

And since he needed to blend in, it was best to mold an elderly appearance.

So, to save on imagination, Fu Qian simply chose the deceased Old Man Lu Yuan.

Aside from going completely bald, a flawless recreation would technically require removing his eyebrows as well.

But for the sake of aesthetics, Fu Qian ultimately just turned his eyebrows a grayish-white.

With that done, Fu Qian slowly walked forward and slipped into the fringes of the crowd.

Logically, if these people were in their right minds, they should have easily recognized him as a stranger.

Surprisingly, however, the banquet remained completely unaffected.

Not only did no one notice Fu Qian, the uninvited guest, but more absurdly, the group didn't even look his way.

It was as if Fu Qian didn't exist here at all.

What a group of dedicated "actors"!

Fu Qian nodded inwardly, weaving through the crowd like an invisible man.

Observing them up close, he found that while everyone looked normal on the surface, their expressions were actually somewhat strange, giving off a feeling where holiness and filth coexisted. The smiles at the corners of their mouths also seemed rather eerie.

As the crowd overlapped, the voids in his perception merged into a single expanse, making him feel as if he were standing in a vacuum.

Soon, Fu Qian arrived next to Guzman.

The Sir was quietly chatting with a slightly plump old man, referring to him as Dean Collins.

The dean of the town hospital?

Then wasn't Guzman his patient?

Fu Qian studied him. Dean Collins seemed slightly younger than Guzman, a bit plump, and wore a bowtie.

He wore that same odd expression, though his voice was a bit louder, currently discussing his fine wine collection with Sir Guzman.

Glancing at the dean's empty glass and the waiter approaching from a distance, Fu Qian suddenly had an idea.

He took a step forward, silently snatched a wine glass from the waiter's tray, emptied it, and set it back down. Then he stepped aside, quietly observing changes.

The waiter didn't react at all throughout the entire process.

A moment later, he reached Collins. The dean glanced down, noticed nothing amiss, and reached out to take the empty glass.

Completely oblivious to the fact that his new glass was empty, Collins raised it, took a natural sip, and continued chatting with Guzman.

They really were "acting"—all of them.

This bizarre scene only cemented Fu Qian's theory.

While he couldn't yet be sure if it was related to those voids, this group's state was undeniably abnormal.

This seemingly ordinary cocktail party was, at its core, closer to a perfectly choreographed performance.

This aligned perfectly with his goal of finding anomalies. Going to the hospital had indeed been a great idea.

Fu Qian was highly satisfied with his discovery.

Without harassing the two actors any further, Fu Qian looked around, considering how to test them further.

A moment later, he spotted a solitary figure out on the spacious balcony.

It was a beautifully dressed woman standing lazily by the balcony, looking as if she had stepped out for some fresh air.

That in itself wasn't strange, but Fu Qian noticed she wasn't gazing outward. Instead, she was looking right beside herself, smiling and talking to herself as if someone else were standing there.

Could it be that someone was actually supposed to be here?

The thought surfaced in Fu Qian's mind.

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