Eldritch Horror Theatre

As expected, he had no audience.

Amid the surging ash, Fu Qian made no grand attempt to locate the Inverted Lake again. Instead, he put his newly acquired skills to use and gave a live rendition of "Ode to Joy."

It was more than a little out of place, so the lack of applause was only natural.

As a result, when the final note faded and neither merfolk nor the Fool appeared, he felt no displeasure.

After paying brief respects to the latter's potential feat, Fu Qian stood up, pocketed the Harmonica, and prepared to wrap things up.

Yes, he didn't even plan to wait for the Burial Scroll's cooldown to finish before activating it again to check its status.

For one thing, his harvest had been plentiful; this scientific expedition was already a massive success.

It was almost too successful—it felt as if heaven and earth themselves had been refined.

It didn't just count when something was eaten and digested by stomach acid.

For another, Fu Qian judged that even if he activated the Burial Scroll again, he likely wouldn't see a thing.

This script had been a mutual convergence between the Fool and himself. It could only take shape with both acting as pillars of power—calling it a fated encounter was no overstatement.

However, the moment he refused to use himself as an Anchor Point to define the truth of the world, that serendipitous opportunity had evidently been consumed.

Condensing it anew wasn't entirely impossible. From a technical standpoint, however, he would at least need to return to the Academy first and take a bite of their experimental materials to see if he could acquire the Etched Intellect again.

And that was just the baseline prerequisite. Even the crystal he had recovered from the Lighthouse was gone, swept away by the script's conclusion.

Given all these factors, Fu Qian was inclined to believe that his chances of replicating that opportunity for divine ascension were exceedingly slim.

Of course, aside from all that, there was another rather special reason—

Bathed in the crimson moonlight shining down on him, Fu Qian looked up at the sky.

He might not have had an appreciative audience, but he wasn't completely without company.

Halfway through his tune, the Red Moon had already risen over the sea, casting a bewitching glow across the surroundings.

Impressively, the clearest victim of the Lie had made its appearance, shining in silence.

...

This wasn't the first time it had appeared in such a manner.

Perhaps it struggled to express itself, but the Red Moon obviously cared deeply about the "child" it had finally managed to locate, keeping its gaze locked on him at all times.

Though, theoretically speaking, there was another way to interpret its presence this time.

Such as aggressively demanding accountability.

The opportunity to dispel the Lie had been right in front of him, yet he had let it slip by without a fight.

He had clearly seen through the essence of the world, yet he willingly covered his own eyes, burying his head in superficial illusions.

Perhaps it had never explicitly demanded that its "child" help counter the Lie, but from the Red Moon's perspective, all its previous guidance had just been squandered—a blatant display of sheer rebellion.

Coupled with the fact that there was no immediate danger requiring its presence, this silent vigilance carried an imposing air—staring down a rebellious youth and waiting for him to explain himself.

Hmm...

Unfortunately, at that moment, Fu Qian not only showed zero signs of repentance, but he also continued to gaze warmly back at the sky.

He looked exactly like a child holding a parent's gaze, completely unaware of what he had done wrong.

The Red Moon proved equally stubborn. Its crimson radiance flared a few degrees brighter, locking the situation into an immediate stalemate.

"Give me a moment to pack up."

As the seconds ticked by, possessing at least some self-awareness as a rebel, Fu Qian finally chose to break the silence.

Although the content of that sentence... upon closer reflection, was perhaps worse than saying nothing at all.

Sure enough, the Red Moon's radiance faintly trembled, as if it hadn't expected the child to be so rebellious.

It was a pity that Fu Qian didn't even wait for its consent before directly taking off the Emissary Mask.

His surroundings remained dim, but the contrast in the lighting was entirely different.

In the next moment, he was already sitting in the Warehouse.

...

Unilaterally ignoring the criticism and simply walking away.

As everyone knew, the attitude conveyed by such behavior was awful beyond measure. No matter how severely the ensuing retaliation escalated, he would have no right to complain.

[Warning, containment breach—]

Fortunately, it wasn't entirely bad news.

Almost instantly, a pleasant prompt chimed in his ear.

The familiar containment breach alarm not only heralded the arrival of a new day, but also practically confirmed his previous speculations.

It wasn't that the Warehouse had suddenly grown a conscience and quietly given him a day off.

Rather, under the script's interference, even the distribution of his daily work had been affected.

Furthermore, this indirectly proved the mighty power of His Excellency the Fool—to be able to disrupt things to such a degree.

Of course, one factor that couldn't be ignored was his own cooperation as an administrator.

The Fool might possess certain specific mechanisms, but if Fu Qian hadn't taken the initiative to swallow the Divine Flesh and perceive the fallacy of spacetime, the former would likely have had absolutely no qualifications to interface with the Warehouse.

And by committing an act tantamount to insider trading, he had naturally reaped a bountiful harvest. The Mask of the Destined God alone was something countless people dreamed of obtaining.

That was by no means an exaggeration. When he mentioned packing up earlier, he naturally meant putting the Fool's Statue and the Umbilical Cord back first.

The relevant tests were already finished. Both of these items were toxic materials with active countdowns.

Continuing to hold onto them would only add risk; the only other consequence would probably be letting the Red Moon discover that he was still engaging in such dangerous behavior.

And aside from this, Fu Qian actually had one more thing to do—

Completely ignoring the Warehouse's impatient task assignments, he set the items down and put on the other mask that had just undergone Sublimation.

The effect was astonishing. For one thing, the Warehouse showed no intention of stopping him. For another, with a single glance, he saw that the Divine Path was impressively still there.

That's right. That straight, abstract path didn't blur in the slightest, even in a place like the Warehouse. It extended directly outward from his body.

Moreover, it didn't point toward any single item inside the Warehouse. Instead, it plunged into the infinite distance, letting him intuitively know that it pointed toward the outside world.

...

Who said fateful encounters were ethereal and unpredictable? This was so clear it was practically like turning on a quest marker.

Facing such a miraculous scene, even Fu Qian couldn't help but sigh in admiration.

Compared to its previous item description, this was simply the other extreme. Its stability was surprisingly exceptional.

No matter where he was or what state he was in, once he put it on, it formed a straight line. All he had to do was follow it.

Even though, normally speaking, the most orthodox promotion route required at least two things.

In addition to the materials meant for consumption, there had to be a corresponding digestion ritual.

During his previous conversation with Emperor Yasui, she had enthusiastically shared insights regarding this aspect.

And now, having just this single line was so intuitive it bordered on being crude.

Of course, the simpler it was, the more curious he felt about where the end of this line pointed.

Fu Qian didn't just stand there expressing his feelings. In the next moment, he took off "Fated" and put "Emissary" back on.

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