Eldritch Horror Theatre

Couldn't she have feigned reluctance a little longer? Wasn't her mental preparation a bit too quick?

As one of the characters with the most complex backgrounds, Excellency Nepheli stepping up to volunteer didn't really surprise Fu Qian.

What got him was her speed; she stepped forward with an eagerness that practically reeked of impatience.

At a glance, even the smile on her face seemed entirely genuine.

Had she been waiting for this day for a long time?

Fu Qian sighed inwardly.

They were old acquaintances by now. Sure, there had been some misunderstandings and friction along the way—like the times he accidentally ruined a few of her plans, dragged her name through the mud, provoked her colleagues into suspecting her, and ultimately forced her to leave her organization. Even her eventual cremation had been carried out using a wisp of flame he provided.

But as a dignified intellectual, she shouldn't be holding such petty grudges. Besides, didn't she hate physical contact with men?

"Are you ready?"

Without waiting for Wen Li's nod of approval, she stepped right up to him, standing so close that her breath practically brushed his face.

This enthusiasm apparently earned the hunter's approval. Wen Li said nothing more, merely gesturing before stepping back to watch.

"Be my guest."

Seeing this, Fu Qian dropped any pretense of refusal. With a soft sigh, he graciously accepted the beautiful woman offering herself up to his face.

"This might hurt a little."

The beauty proved remarkably considerate. In the next moment, her lips brushed right against his ear as she murmured the warning.

Snap!

At that exact moment, she snapped her fingers.

...

Was even this gesture contagious now?

Faced with the familiar sound, Fu Qian finally understood the true meaning of a memetic infection.

He was absolutely certain that Excellency Nepheli had never possessed this habit during their past encounters. Yet, in the blink of an eye, she had become the third person here to do it.

Of course, this wasn't the time to demand royalties. No matter how she appeared on the surface, Excellency Nepheli had clearly retained all of her ruthless efficiency.

Before the sound of the snap could even fade, Fu Qian felt an Echo reverberate deep within his body.

Yes, even with his mortal physique lacking its usual sensitivity, the sensation was incredibly strange.

The lingering pain from Wen Li and Madam Number Seven's earlier clash of wills even felt faintly soothed, as if it were being alleviated.

If it stopped there, one might assume that Excellency Nepheli simply had a tough exterior but a soft heart—that she had volunteered not to torture him, but to heal his wounds.

Unfortunately, Fu Qian had far too much faith in her character for that. Moreover, he could tell this soothing sensation was merely an incidental side effect.

Something terrifying was mercilessly ravaging his willpower, and even—Squelch!

Along with the bizarre noise, Fu Qian felt his chest slowly tearing open. The pain was agonizingly clear.

...

Still mimicking?

To Fu Qian, this sensation was incredibly familiar.

Back when he first ascended to the Transcendent Tier, he had already experienced what it meant to literally open his chest and speak frankly.

But this time, it clearly wasn't because his flesh-and-blood abilities were recovering. Instead, a similar scene was being recreated through a far more bizarre method.

Besides, Excellency Nepheli's style was visibly more generous. In the past, he had always been the one opening his mouth to swallow things; this time, he was regurgitating them outward.

Fu Qian lowered his head to look at his chest. Though there was no spray of blood, a gaping hole was tearing open from the inside out.

And along with this gruesome change, something slowly squeezed its way out.

Was this... a heart?

It was still visibly beating. What else could it be but the absolute most vital organ of an ordinary human being?

The only comforting detail was that the organ itself didn't appear damaged.

The only reason it had emerged from his chest cavity was because the vessels connected to it had deformed, rapidly overgrowing and effectively pushing the organ outside his body.

Of course, it was still a terrifying sight. Even though he had witnessed far more gruesome scenes ever since transforming with the Thug, he couldn't forget that his current physical constitution was completely different.

Under the intense gaze of the gathered Transcendents, calling his current mortal body incredibly fragile wouldn't be an exaggeration.

Fu Qian reached out and gently cradled the exposed organ.

Although it continued to expand and contract with perfect rhythm, not beating a fraction of a second faster, he could still sense the flickering flame of life within it. Wait—was there actually a fire?

Under the silent scrutiny of the group, Fu Qian looked up and stared straight at the nearest light source.

As mentioned before, that half-burnt candle didn't exactly provide much illumination.

Instead, because its meager light was constantly being swallowed by the gloom, it created a bizarre sense of oppression, looking as if it could go out at any moment.

And now, that precarious state seemed to have synchronized with him.

Visibly, the dancing flame of the candle had perfectly synchronized with the beating of his heart.

...

This felt seemingly familiar. Did Excellency Nepheli take a training course at the Celestial Sphere Cult?

Rather than being alarmed, Fu Qian felt a surge of amusement. He tapped a gentle rhythm against his own beating heart, reminiscing about past events in another realm.

He clearly remembered his first audience with the Pope. It had also taken place in a sacred location, where he'd had a chat with a heartbroken man named Olinter.

Back then, Olinter had prepared a special gift just for him: syncing the flame of a lit lamp with his heartbeat to deliver an inescapable death.

It had even been nighttime back then, too. The sense of déjà vu was incredibly strong.

And Fu Qian knew that Excellency Nepheli pulling this trick wasn't just to scare him.

Whoosh—

Without saying a word, Nepheli simply blew. Seeing Fu Qian's gaze turn toward her, she kept her smile and blew a breath straight at the candle flame.

...

Sure enough, it was an exact replica, though back at the Celestial Sphere Cult, he had been the one to blow out the flame.

The breath seemed gentle but was incredibly precise. The already weak candle flame took the brunt of it and instantly began to flicker wildly.

"What happens if it goes out?"

Faced with such a ruthless, silent technique, Fu Qian couldn't help but express his curiosity.

"Don't worry, you won't die. It will just hurt a bit more than it does now."

Nepheli offered a comforting word, signaling him not to fret.

"Then that will certainly be painful."

Fu Qian didn't doubt her. He carefully analyzed the sensations coursing through his body, fully acknowledging the effectiveness of this bizarre torture method.

His heartbeat hadn't actually slowed to a near-stop along with the flickering flame, but the impact hadn't vanished either. Instead, it was using his physical body as a buffer, forcing him to absorb the strain in a very unique way.

The intense, bone-deep agony of it was simply beyond words.

Of course, what was even harder to describe was how his connection to this Dark Sanctuary was shifting.

This wasn't merely some exotic punishment. As Excellency Nepheli blew her breath, Fu Qian felt the boundaries between himself and his surroundings begin to blur.

For example, did that candle count as one of his own organs now? It was a question that was suddenly very difficult to answer.

His "sense of self" was being contaminated—Squelch!—and the corruption was only deepening.

With another sickening tear, Fu Qian realized yet another of his organs had been exposed to the air.

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