Eldritch Horror Theatre

Each one was more bizarre than the last!

Looking at the woman conversing with empty space, Fu Qian shook his head and walked over without hesitation.

With red hair and brown eyes, her features were quite attractive, though the marks of time were visible on her face. She appeared to be approaching middle age.

The low cut of her dark evening gown accentuated her fair, delicate skin.

Even when Fu Qian stood right next to her, she remained completely oblivious, casually chatting with the "person in front of her."

The red-haired woman's expression was so natural as she spoke that one couldn't help but wonder if there truly was an invisible person standing there.

Fu Qian didn't rush to interrupt, choosing to stand quietly by her side and listen for a moment.

From the woman's words, he gathered that the person in front of her was named Nate. Half a year ago, Nate had tragically lost his only son and had spent every day since immersed in grief.

She, on the other hand, kept trying to persuade him that the departed are already gone, and that he should look forward and enjoy life.

As she finished speaking, she earnestly looked up and down at the empty space, her tone quite relieved.

"Well said."

Right at that moment, Fu Qian seized the opportunity and stepped forward. Standing next to the red-haired woman, he also spoke to the air, even raising his glass in a toast.

"Fine wine is the best cure."

After observing her bizarre behavior, Fu Qian wanted to test things further to see exactly how these actors could be "woken up" from their performance.

However, despite his natural entry into the conversation, the red-haired woman remained completely unresponsive. She seemed entirely unaware of the extra person beside her and continued her conversation with Nate.

So it really didn't work?

Fu Qian nodded, unsurprised, but he didn't give up.

After a moment of thought, he simply picked up a wine glass and shoved it into the red-haired woman's hand.

"Your wine is here, Madam."

...

Faced with the glass suddenly shoved into her hand, the woman's expression showed obvious resistance, as if she subconsciously wanted to throw it away.

At the same time, she continued to ignore Fu Qian's words.

However, Fu Qian wasn't going to let her off that easily. He rudely grabbed her hand, forcing her to grip the glass tightly.

"I was a little thirsty earlier and took a sip. I hope you don't mind."

Making her look at the nearly empty glass, Fu Qian continued.

...

Forced to stare at the glass in her hand, the red-haired woman froze for about ten seconds before her expression finally changed, taking on a trace of hatred and disgust.

Ah!

The next moment, she suddenly opened her mouth and let out a sharp scream, violently throwing off Fu Qian's hand.

Crash!

The delicate wine glass smashed against the smooth floor, shattering into pieces instantly.

The crisp sound seemed to jolt the entire room awake.

The guests, who had previously turned a blind eye to Fu Qian, all turned to look at him almost simultaneously.

Were they "awake" now?

Fu Qian glanced at the crowd that had finally reacted, then looked down at his own hand, recalling what he had just experienced.

Normally, it would be impossible for an ordinary person to throw off his grip.

The reason the red-haired woman was able to do so wasn't because of a sudden burst of divine strength, but because in that instant, his own power seemed to have weakened.

That was right. Just as she made the motion to throw off his hand, Fu Qian realized he had seemingly regressed to the level of an ordinary person.

Although the disparity in strength was still immense, it was no longer the gap between a God and a mortal.

This bizarre phenomenon sparked his curiosity, so he had followed her momentum and let go.

Looking at the red-haired woman who had jumped to the side, Fu Qian confirmed that the current state of these "actors" was truly unusual.

"Don't worry, Madam Grace."

Just then, Dean Collins's voice rang out from the crowd.

"My people noticed him a long time ago. This assassin sneaked into our banquet, attempting to poison us."

As he spoke, Collins pushed through the crowd and stepped forward, his tone filled with absolute certainty.

"For him, I've already prepared a gift."

Finishing his sentence, Collins grabbed something from his side.

Fu Qian recognized it at a glance; it was a drawn Crossbow.

It felt like they still weren't awake!

Being aimed at by a Crossbow bolt gleaming with cold light, Fu Qian's attention wasn't on the weapon. Instead, he carefully observed the guests surrounding him.

The faces of these people still bore that bizarre expression—both holy and filthy—giving the impression that they were still in a play.

They had just changed the script.

Fu Qian blinked. Naturally, he didn't believe Collins's claim of being prepared all along, and the talk about a poisoning assassin was complete nonsense.

The man's words sounded more like he was fabricating a story and writing himself into it.

So was he just a stage prop in this play now?

Fu Qian seemed to understand his situation.

The next moment, not giving Fu Qian a chance to say his lines, Collins pulled the trigger.

The cold light flashed.

An attack like this would normally pose no threat to Fu Qian whatsoever.

After breaking contact with Grace, his abilities had instantly recovered.

With his speed, dodging this Crossbow bolt would be a breeze.

The next moment, blood splattered.

Fu Qian looked at the hole in his palm; fresh blood was gushing out of it.

Indeed, he hadn't dodged.

It wasn't out of carelessness; he had done it on purpose.

After eyeing the trajectory of the Crossbow bolt, Fu Qian first shifted his vitals out of the way, then directly reached his hand out to meet it.

He was very curious to see what would happen if he got hit.

Normally, a weapon like this shouldn't have been able to even pierce his skin.

Yet right now, it had shot straight through his palm, leaving a massive, bloody hole.

Just as if it had hit an ordinary person's hand.

Incredible!

Not only that, but the area around the wound seemed to be affected by a special power, making the healing speed far slower than usual.

"I think I know how Helom died."

Fu Qian muttered to himself, his head lowered.

This group of actors in the play seemed to constantly be under some wondrous protection, allowing them to ignore Transcendent Tier powers.

In front of them, even someone in the Demigod Realm would be injured like an ordinary person.

If Helom, caught completely unaware, had accidentally been struck in a vital spot by a similar method...

Then the fall of a majestic Demigod Realm expert at the hands of a group of ordinary people truly wasn't impossible.

The only pity was that he still didn't know where the corpse was.

"Seize him."

Looking at the injured Fu Qian, Collins snorted and led the crowd forward to surround him.

"Where is Helom's corpse?"

The next moment, looking calmly at the crowd, Fu Qian suddenly posed the question.

"Give up your struggle! You have nowhere left to run!"

Unsurprisingly, Collins turned a deaf ear to his question, continuing to recite his trial lines.

Just as he thought, anything unrelated to their "script" would naturally be filtered out.

Fu Qian had confirmed his guess.

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