Eldritch Horror Theatre

While its intelligence might not be the sharpest and its judgments could be rather rigid at times, the Warehouse leaned toward pragmatism overall. There was usually a reason behind any restrictions it imposed.

This was theoretically his first task with a purely mortal constitution since his promotion to Mechanical King of the Abandoned Prison, and Fu Qian had been extremely curious about the reason for this restriction from the very beginning.

Unfortunately, that was still difficult to determine. And even if he did figure it out, it wouldn't be the sort of thing he could easily share.

"Sorry, but that's a secret. In short, it might just be more convenient to come here in this form."

Still, since this was a gesture of concern from Chief Yuan, he couldn't just give her the cold shoulder. He replied with a smile, telling the truth.

"So that's how it is... I'd expect nothing less from you."

However, the influence of an academic leader was on full display. Even such a casual remark seemed to trigger a flurry of over-interpretation.

Yuan Shan, who had asked the question, stared at him for a moment before nodding. She seemed to have deduced a potential scenario and was visibly stunned by the implications.

"Hiding yourself in such a manner makes you incredibly difficult to find. I even suspect that if you walked into Turbulence in this state, you might not be affected at all. Unfortunately—"

"Someone still found a way to lock onto you, though even now, I have no idea how she managed it..."

Her meaning was already very clear. She had misinterpreted his loss of transcendent power as a deliberate method of concealment.

To avoid detection as much as possible, he had not only hidden in this special place but also resorted to special methods to forcibly seal his own transcendent power, turning his constitution into something entirely different from theirs.

Unfortunately for him, there was always a higher mountain. He had still been discovered by that incredible hunter, Wen Li, who had tracked him all the way here and reduced him to a prisoner.

Even locking them together with Handcuffs seemed necessary now. If she was even slightly careless, he might use the environment to escape.

"Sorry, but that's a secret."

Faced with Yuan Shan's praise and scrutiny, Wen Li actually chose the exact same answer as Fu Qian, showing no intention of revealing her methods.

"Besides, you look like you're holding up well. It seems you don't need my help to ease the discomfort."

Immediately after, she turned back to Fu Qian to praise his performance.

...

Actually, a little relief would be nice.

This was the downside of having too high a stress tolerance. Wen Li was marveling at the fact that, after serving as a battleground for two verbal spars, Fu Qian could still communicate normally. His resilience was astonishing.

In reality, with his current constitution, shaking off the aftershocks of the battle would be no easy feat.

Fu Qian briefly assessed his condition, confirming that he would be forced to endure this torment for quite some time.

Unfortunately, Wen Li's stance was clearly resolute. The moment she finished speaking, she turned her head away and ignored him, giving off the faint impression that she had merely been looking for an excuse to drop the matter.

"So, can you take off the mask now?"

When it came to the defeated Madam Number Seven, however, Wen Li was extremely persistent with her demand. She wasn't going to let the other woman off the hook so easily.

"Heh... Since you want to see it so badly."

Fortunately, the latter seemed to have long since braced herself. She didn't look surprised by the request; instead, she let out a low chuckle.

Without keeping them in suspense any longer, Madam Number Seven reached up and tore off the heavy mask.

...

Given an appearance like this, hiding behind a mask was perfectly excusable.

Even though it was Wen Li who had won this concession, everyone's eyes were instantly drawn over.

As the mask was pulled down, the visage revealed underneath successfully shocked the room into silence.

It turned out that her exposed eyes were indeed the most presentable part of her face.

Much like how wearing a face mask meant one only needed to apply eye makeup, Madam Number Seven took the concept a step further. The rest of her face looked as if it had been slapped together at random.

It looked as if she had been soaked in acid and hung out to dry. There was barely a patch of normal skin left, and even the shapes of her mouth and nose were grotesquely mangled.

Of course, that was just a metaphor. This clearly wasn't an ordinary physical injury, but rather the result of some lingering curse.

Otherwise, for a transcendent, even if they didn't possess flesh-manipulation abilities, finding a way to repair their face wouldn't be all that difficult.

Furthermore, even with her face in such a state, one could still tell that she had originally possessed a pointed chin.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted anyone else to see me like this."

Having exposed her true appearance in public, Madam Number Seven actually apologized to the group.

"Understandable."

Faced with this sight, Wen Li—who had forced her to do this—seemed to soften her tone slightly.

"Take that thing off, too."

Unfortunately, it was only a slight softening. This operation clearly allowed no room for error. The very next moment, she raised her hand and pointed at the top of Madam Number Seven's head.

"...As you wish."

It was obvious that the latter was a bit taken aback, but she hesitated even less this time. As she spoke, she reached up again and removed the strangely shaped crown.

...

Understood. So it was the Curse of Seborrhea.

Since Madam Number Seven was being so generous, Fu Qian naturally didn't hold back his stares.

Staring at that smooth, bare head, he seemed to understand what the aforementioned curse entailed.

That somewhat petite head was completely devoid of hair.

Aside from skin that looked exactly like the skin on her face, in some places, one could even see glimpses of her skull.

Of course, the bit about Seborrhea was just a joke. While such a tragic sight would move any onlooker to pity, it only made her previous getup seem all the more reasonable.

"Pardon the offense."

Wen Li finally seemed satisfied and didn't push any further. She even gave a slight nod to express her apology.

Unfortunately, Madam Number Seven genuinely looked offended. She merely responded with a hideous smile as she slowly put the crown and mask back on.

"...Do I have to take mine off, too?"

Wen Li clearly paid no mind to this little display of temper. The next moment, she shifted her gaze away, looking into the distance.

In the corner she was staring at, another masked individual proved to be quite self-aware, actually taking the initiative to ask. Sure enough, it was Classmate Liushuang's voice.

"No need."

However, despite her cooperative attitude—and perhaps benefiting from Madam Number Seven taking the brunt of it earlier—Wen Li pondered for a moment and decided not to demand that she reveal her true face.

"Let me see your sword."

But she wasn't going to let her off that easily, either. Wen Li's gaze landed on the weapon resting beside Classmate Liushuang, signaling that she wanted to inspect it.

"...No problem."

The latter remained as easygoing as ever. After only a few seconds of thought, she picked up the sword, walked over, and handed it over.

"It really is quite special."

Wen Li didn't stand on ceremony. She gently stroked the scabbard and immediately offered her assessment.

And it was easy to tell that she wasn't just being polite. In stark contrast to the exquisite hilt, the pitch-black scabbard couldn't even be called uniform; it was incredibly rough.

So she had even brought the Sword in the Stone with her? Classmate Liushuang had truly gone to great lengths.

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