Eldritch Horror Theatre

What color is blood?

A Burlap Doll had no blood, so how could it know what color blood was? No—it knew.

Watching Brother A Fei's heroic bearing, Fu Qian wasn't the least bit surprised by the strike's effect.

The second Burlap Doll's almost nonexistent neck was precisely severed in that instant.

Even as the severed head tumbled through the air, dark red cotton stuffing was visible at the cut.

Frankly, the scene was even more eerie than if real blood had sprayed out.

That eeriness didn't last long, however. The moment it hit the ground, all the bloody color faded away without a trace.

As for the reason—naturally, it was the Power of Calamity.

Those with bad luck couldn't laugh.

Achieving such an astonishing result was primarily due to A Fei's strike, proving that speed overcomes all. The second crucial factor was the Calamity Blessing on the blade.

Many things couldn't be killed simply by cutting them open.

The Burlap Doll wasn't necessarily that fragile. The previous one had also fallen to a single strike because that was no ordinary blade.

For a top-tier hunter, familiarity with tools was only the most basic requirement; they also needed an instinct for lethal damage.

While he might not have been certain that the receptionist beside him had imbued the broken blade with special power, A Fei clearly sensed that it could deliver death much more easily.

Without that certainty, his previous strike would have been no different from a fit of impotent rage.

Now, Fu Qian was absolutely certain that the final trace of Calamity Blessing on the blade had been consumed.

Aside from helping A Fei sever the Burlap Doll's lifeforce in a single slash, the calamity's erosion even affected symbolic illusions, such as the red color of its "blood."

In short, before the Gift of the Tyrant, these absurd creatures ultimately had no power to resist.

Even so, the situation still didn't look optimistic.

The remaining Burlap Dolls still numbered in the double digits. Not to mention, after delivering that strike, A Fei himself was in terrible shape.

With barely enough strength left to hold a defensive posture, he stood in silence, facing the crowd of onlookers.

The crowd's laughter had ceased as well. Their dense encirclement made the atmosphere even more suffocating.

Clatter—

Fortunately, this standoff didn't last long. A strange sound suddenly broke the dead silence—something dropping to the ground from within the crowd.

Looking toward the source, one of the researchers in the crowd suddenly lost all trace of killing intent, turned on his heel, and bolted.

Clatter...

Thump...

This sequence of events seemed to flip a switch. A chaotic chorus of items hitting the floor followed, accompanied by the frantic footsteps of a crowd scattering in all directions.

The massive mob of onlookers actually threw down their weapons one after another, deciding that fleeing was their best option.

Had their running footsteps not been so stiff and mechanical—and had the Burlap Dolls on their bodies not looked desperate enough to hide in their crotches—one might have suspected the shock had freed them from mind control.

As it stood, the only explanation was that these spectator dolls had gotten terrified and wanted nothing more than to flee and hide.

Regardless, it was a drastic turn of events. It seemed the hunter, A Fei, had been favored by fate once again.

Clang—

Another weapon hit the floor, though this sound was far softer.

Having narrowly escaped death, A Fei slowly planted his broken blade into the ground and used it to prop himself into a sitting position. Then, expending the least amount of energy possible, he turned his head.

"Well done. Little kids are cowards at heart, after all."

Fu Qian offered his praise with a smile.

There was no such thing as baseless luck; this was the result of a desperate, hard-fought struggle.

...

It had been established earlier that the real difficulty lay in having the courage to make that strike.

Under the barrage of a mob attack, the disparity in strength had already reached despair-inducing levels.

Still wanting to slaughter every single Burlap Doll head-on in such a situation was something only a zealot would attempt, not a professional hunter.

Earlier, apart from realizing that his broken blade was still indestructible, A Fei had clearly realized something else: the dolls might literally be just "dolls."

They might be vicious and eerie, but they actually weren't very smart.

Their initial pincer attack had indeed been beautifully executed, but upon closer thought, it was much closer to a standard childish prank.

Furthermore, after the first one was killed, the second had actually revealed itself for close combat. That rash decision reeked of an impulsive, immature reaction.

Having an advantage was nothing compared to a guaranteed victory. If it had just kept kiting him from a distance, killing him would have only been a matter of time.

Beyond that, there was another glaring flaw. Had they been even slightly intelligent, they wouldn't have completely ignored the other person standing right beside them the entire time, assuming that as long as they didn't provoke him, they could do whatever they pleased...

In short, not only did their voices sound young, but their behavioral patterns also possessed a sort of animalistic naivety.

For a hunter constantly teetering on the line between life and death, failing to sense this meant he had no right to ask for luck.

And A Fei had proven himself once again. The proof lay in one extremely abnormal detail within his recent sequence of actions.

Earlier, he had only dodged without attacking, dragging the fight out until the other dolls had gathered around to watch. Only then did he finally seem to resolve to risk his life.

Even a common street thug knew to eliminate isolated targets as quickly as possible—unless his actual goal was to draw a crowd.

He had deliberately gathered them to display his merciless resolve and lethal, one-strike power in front of as many opponents as possible, hoping to scatter them in terror like animals.

It was hard to say what the exact odds of success were, but his ingrained combat instincts had allowed him to grasp this sliver of possibility.

Ugh...

Even in the face of such high praise, A Fei didn't bother denying it. His gaze merely fell upon a certain ostentatious weapon wheel as a strange rasp escaped his throat.

Sure enough, he hadn't given up yet.

"Which one do you want to swap for?"

As the mastermind behind this scene, Fu Qian was naturally delighted to see this. He asked generously, taking the initiative to bring up the no-questions-asked exchange policy he had mentioned earlier.

After surviving that fierce mob assault, the Serrated Blade was clearly damaged beyond use.

"Hmm..."

Unfortunately for A Fei, choosing a weapon still seemed to be a grueling chore. His gaze lingered on the wheel, but he hesitated to make a decision.

"This one will do."

In response, Fu Qian even threw in a complimentary consultation. One of the tentacles shifted, directly presenting a weapon to him.

With its exaggerated curve, its entire body seemed to be forged from flowing metal. It was a bizarrely shaped sword.

Reflected in the firelight, the needle-thin blade seemed as though it were truly flowing.

"...Where are we going next?"

A Fei didn't stand on ceremony. Only then did he drop his broken blade, not forgetting to ask for the next step in their plan.

"To get some sun."

Fu Qian had clearly made up his mind long ago, gazing toward the Laboratory where the supernova had previously been unleashed.

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