Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Siren Group had to be feeling the pressure lately.

Book in hand, Fu Qian found his thoughts drifting to the broader state of the world.

It was no secret that the conflict between Siren and Anjing was still raging on.

It had even drawn out opportunists and looters—he knew of at least two such groups himself.

Even without Yasui Tokiyuki, the Anjing Group retained massive resources and a far more robust organizational structure. With no clear victor emerging in the short term, they were undoubtedly causing significant trouble for Siren.

Take the recent incident at the Underwater Prison, for example.

The deaths of a bunch of inmates were one thing, but the underlying elements involved were clearly sensitive.

Not only had Crimson Frenzy—a contagion linked to the Tyrant—appeared, but the entire prison's state during the event had felt off.

And according to the mission summary, the Night Watchers had clearly stepped in for the aftermath.

With the situation locked in a stalemate and lacking sufficient gains, an organization of that size couldn't simply call it quits. It was easy to imagine what would happen next: they would become the center of a storm, dragging more and more people into the fray.

This sort of thing was nothing new.

Naturally, a newly emergent organization like the Rebirth Club—and its undisputed leader, Elder Lu—would be factored into their plans.

While the Club's motives were opaque and its actions unpredictable, the Ji Clan was well aware of its past clashes with the Anjing Group.

Since it had already been proven that the Ji Clan was feeding intelligence to Siren, they were highly likely to leverage this fact.

The enemy of my enemy—such a beautiful concept.

Generally speaking, dragging a third party into these muddy waters could only benefit them.

It made perfect sense, then, for Kelsen—one of Siren's top executives—to reach out.

Still, wasn't this message a bit too sparse?

"Moore." It almost certainly referred to the city closest to the Ash Sea.

Yet leaving just a name with no context or stated intent made Kelsen's attitude feel somewhat ambiguous.

Regardless, it strongly suggested that things were about to get lively over there.

As for why Sunny hadn't noticed such an obvious clue?

He had effectively seen her three times in rapid succession recently, and applied immense pressure during each encounter.

If something this suspicious had happened on her watch, she likely wouldn't have been able to hide it for this long—

The answer was simple: Sunny might have flipped through the book, but she simply hadn't seen it.

...

If this message was truly meant to be kept secret, it obviously should have been left somewhere far more concealed.

Like a book that was rarely opened, for instance.

Instead, it was left in the only book showing signs of being read, right on the very first page. Its sheer brazenness was practically slapped across the reader's face—it was deliberately meant to be seen.

Yet Sunny genuinely seemed unaware of it. At first glance, the contradiction made him wonder if the message was even intended for him at all.

But that was the danger of ulterior motives.

Professor Fu had been anticipating something exactly like this for a long time. It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to say he had brainstormed exactly how Excellency Kelsen might pull it off. How could he be fooled by mere surface details?

Sunny possessed a very unique identity—a puppet devoid of personal consciousness.

In Kelsen's eyes, she was simply an extension of Elder Lu. Therefore, a message left for Sunny was a message left for Elder Lu, with no need to keep secrets from her.

The problem was that Sunny wasn't actually a puppet. Reality had deviated from Kelsen's assumptions.

As a result, if the message was designed to be passed to a demigod, Sunny likely lacked the ability to read it.

To put it bluntly, these ink stains were probably a specialized method of leaving secret messages, invisible to anyone below a certain Rank.

Or perhaps they were only activated when someone of a sufficient Rank drew near.

Theoretically, the latter made more sense, considering his own perception was currently at zero.

In short, Kelsen believed he had left a covert yet reliable message, waiting for the willing to bite the hook, completely unaware that Sunny hadn't noticed it at all.

It only surfaced when Fu Qian committed a little light trespassing and flipped through the book himself.

Honestly, it wasn't a bad thing. If the already cautious Sunny had seen something like this, she would have likely bolted on the spot, depriving him of all the intelligence he had just gathered.

As for now... he could only say that Excellency Kelsen's apparent gracious invitation hadn't gone to waste.

Fu Qian was genuinely intrigued. He decided to take the same investigative route as last time.

Besides, his ten minutes were just about up.

Checking the time, Fu Qian restored the book and everything else to their original positions, then pulled off his mask.

His previous investigative route, after all, had started right in Chief Yuan's territory.

...

Midnight had not yet arrived. The Warehouse was dead silent; his second mission for the week hadn't come.

While waiting for the bloodstains on the mask to recover, Fu Qian casually organized his gear.

Normally he wouldn't care, but since Elder Lu was the one being invited, he had to consider both his personal image and that of his organization.

Moore... That place was rather remote, yet it somehow held enough allure for Kelsen to invite him there for a chat. The sheer contrast only heightened his anticipation.

Did it have something to do with the Ash Sea? Was Siren plotting some bizarre scheme or maneuver?

As the overlords of the sea, they were certainly the most qualified to do so.

Either way, it couldn't be a bad thing for him. When it came to investigations, the livelier it got, the better.

Though it was hard to say what kind of role Excellency Kelsen envisioned the Rebirth Club playing in all this.

Brimming with beautiful expectations for the future, Fu Qian slipped the mask back on.

Oh?

The Emissary Mask, with its bloodstains recovered to a certain extent, accurately locked onto the Bookstore Second Floor. The business tycoon had returned to Shangjing.

The time here was even earlier, and the streets outside were still somewhat bustling.

Heading downstairs, Fu Qian quickly spotted a snow-white envelope on the floor, half-hidden in the shadows cast by the lights.

...

Did it have to give him this much déjà vu? Last time, there had also been a letter left here right before he set off.

Judging by its size and style, he could almost guarantee Yuan Shan had left it. Fu Qian couldn't help but inwardly groan.

Was minimalism the new trend nowadays?

When he picked up the envelope and tore it open, his exasperation peaked.

Last time, she had at least written "Thursday" to set a time. This time, the paper was entirely blank.

Deeply lamenting that human hearts are no longer pure, Fu Qian casually shoved the letter into a bookshelf and set off, resuming his investigative journey.

She didn't really need to write anything anyway. By now, any letter Yuan Shan left could uniformly be translated as: "Come to my turf for a chat."

Given the lack of a scheduled time or any sense of urgency, Fu Qian figured he had decoded her intentions perfectly: Come sit down whenever you're free. It's nothing urgent, but you should probably know about it.

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