Eldritch Horror Theatre

No matter how he looked at it, the correlation coefficient seemed remarkably high.

The identical values and the instant synchronization made it impossible to dismiss as a mere coincidence.

Fu Qian casually snapped his fingers again. In the blink of an eye, these latest seventy-eight Vacuum Flowers followed in the footsteps of their predecessors, transforming into crystal-clear works of art that brought a greater sense of vitality to the entire Abandoned Prison.

The visual effect was certainly impressive, but the implications behind it were thought-provoking.

As previously noted, this might be the first time in history that his total SAN Value had been physically represented outside the Warehouse.

If it were simply a matter of giving up thinking and letting certain vital parameters leak out naturally, that would be a relatively simple scenario.

If not... did that mean his SAN Value wasn't actually controlled by the Warehouse, but was instead an objective, fundamental metric as far as this world was concerned?

After all, he had just analyzed the potential significance of the Vacuum Flowers to this world, and that specific number had appeared right alongside them.

If that held true, it would be strong evidence that even when the Warehouse pulled people from elsewhere, it still had to adhere to certain basic laws.

At first glance, these might not seem like groundbreaking hypotheses; many of them had already been foreshadowed.

But to Fu Qian, having additional signs to prove this held significant meaning—for instance, it further proved that the power capable of reducing someone to an idiot did not originate from the Warehouse.

Simply put, if his SAN Value hit zero, the force that obliterated his sanity actually came from somewhere else... So where exactly was that?

Based on his experiences so far, the Bookstore World wasn't entirely devoid of similar forces.

Aside from the common madness brought on by directly facing divinity, the Flame of Frenzy in his own hands was a highly effective tool specialized in erasing the self and turning a person into an empty shell of flesh and blood.

Yet, regardless of the method, it was hard to say any of them could render a High-Tier Transcendent completely defenseless. There was still a gap between those and the almost law-like Chastisement described in the initial explanation of the SAN Value.

...

A contradiction seemed to have emerged.

Although the Warehouse loved to be secretive, the information it did provide hadn't seemed too outrageous so far.

Thus, while he might have entertained some bold ideas, Fu Qian had never rushed to test them, nor had he treated his SAN Value as a stat he could selectively sacrifice in tricky situations.

But ever since he had transformed into a 120% King of the Abandoned Prison, there was one question he couldn't help but ponder—

If his SAN Value dropped to zero in this state, would he still be turned into an idiot?

If he insisted on trusting the Warehouse and believed he would still be unable to escape that fate, combining this with his previous discoveries led to another question—

If it wasn't the Warehouse, then where would the impact capable of reducing even the King of the Abandoned Prison to an idiot come from?

Other than the various higher entities known as "Gods," did this world actually possess a power that transcendent?

The laws of the world? That was too crude and irresponsible of an answer.

Although, logically speaking, it really should have such an effect.

What brought death also brought life. The flip side of being obliterated into an idiot when his SAN Value hit zero was that he could walk freely in this world as long as it wasn't zero.

To put it simply, this obliterating force seemed to be the very foundation that allowed him, an outsider, to operate in this place.

And the so-called SAN Value was his "ticket of admission" as defined by that power of the rules.

As long as even a single point remained, the owner could move freely in this world. But the moment it hit zero, they would be summarily "executed."

It truly was a peculiar mechanism. The definition of the SAN Value finally seemed a sliver clearer.

Unfortunately, based on the current situation, it seemed that besides the Warehouse, only Patches had a better understanding of this.

After all, the specific trap Patches had personally designed was meant to siphon an administrator's SAN Value.

It was just a pity that the entity's whereabouts were too mysterious, and forcing them to do anything would not be easy.

Other than leaving it up to fate, his only option seemed to be trying to find clues in their past actions.

Aside from that, the words spoken by an old acquaintance sounded rather fitting for the occasion—

Inside the Volcano in West Plain, the Third Follower he had encountered back then was also a senior of the Warehouse.

While he discarded his SAN Value like a worn-out shoe, his assessment of it was "a lifeline tied around one's neck."

It was hard to say whether that statement was laced with personal emotion, but pondering it now, it seemed to carry more and more weight.

All in all, this was one of Fu Qian's biggest takeaways from the scene unfolding before him.

As for the second takeaway—at a certain moment, he stopped in his tracks, his gaze landing on a specific spot amid the sea of flowers.

Unlike the jagged, menacing lines of the Vacuum Flowers, was that faintly a human silhouette amid the crimson outlines?

...

He hadn't even seen it when the first seventy-nine flowers had appeared.

That was the charm of leaving traces behind. Rather than just flipping through the memories in his mind, a quick glance around allowed Fu Qian to easily confirm that no such sight had existed among the previous batch.

So why was there a person in the Abandoned Prison?

On the night the Tyrant fell, he had indeed seen the groveling displaced ones, and quite a number of them at that.

But judging by what happened afterward, a thousand years of scorching heat had left them unable to preserve even their final physical shells.

When he had formally taken over the Abandoned Prison earlier, he hadn't noticed any signs of this either.

Ancient footprints? An abstract conceptual remnant?

Combining this with his experiences in the Bone Burial Ground, it was quite easy to arrive at such a hypothesis.

Even his original intention for using the Eldest Son's Vision had included an expectation of finding something along these lines.

Yet, there was still that unavoidable question: if there really were such footprints, why hadn't he discovered them a single time before?

Did this sort of thing also rely on fate?

Or perhaps...

At a certain moment, crimson waves surged out from Fu Qian once again. However, unlike before, this time he didn't put on the Ribbon, nor did he intentionally guide out any specific phenomenon. He simply stared calmly at his surroundings.

It seemed there really was something.

As the minutes and seconds ticked by, Fu Qian gave a slight nod and sat back down on the throne.

And not far in front of the throne, another human silhouette had faintly emerged—and it was even moving?

...

Although its overall form was incredibly blurry, outlined merely by the churning red mist, Fu Qian still noticed that the silhouette possessed a certain degree of activity, unlike a pure ancient imprint.

The moment he realized this, with a single thought, the Scarlet Angel closest to the human silhouette silently drifted over.

Wisps and threads of red swiftly converged into the human silhouette.

Then, as if producing some kind of resonance, it truly stretched out, step by step, into a much more solid, realistic figure.

It even looked much more familiar—was his name Jiang En?

It didn't take much effort for Fu Qian to recall a certain young talent from Shangjing.

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