Eldritch Horror Theatre

"I don't understand what you mean."

True to his word, Fu Qian didn't rush for the door after agreeing with Mrs. Tracy. Instead, he found a seat.

Having watched this entire display, Tracy only now seemed to recover from the shock of his earlier remark. Her expression went cold as she demanded to know why she was being lumped in with her companion.

"Don't be nervous. I'm no Savior descending upon this place. I'm merely a listener curious about your behavior."

Fu Qian merely shook his head, denying he was some heaven-sent Savior and emphasizing his inability to help.

"What I said earlier might have sounded harsh, but it was my genuine impression. You aren't invested in this date at all, so why were you so proactive about setting it up?"

Those harsh words naturally referred to his comment about her "putting on a heavy act."

Granted, he had primarily brought it up to provoke the unconscious man.

But the truth always hurts the most. Given the man's worldly experience, it would have been difficult to genuinely spark his fury if Fu Qian's remark had been pure nonsense.

"That contradiction strikes me as quite fascinating, so I'd love to hear your side of it. There—you can go fetch it now. I've moved far enough away."

As he spoke, he noticed Mrs. Tracy's gaze unconsciously drift toward the man.

Fu Qian gestured toward the pocket of the man's hospital gown, reminding her that he was no longer in a position to pull any tricks, so she could safely retrieve her brooch.

...

Fu Qian's well-meaning reminder was hard to find fault with.

Paired with his earlier actions, slipping the brooch back into the pocket could almost be interpreted as a roundabout way of accommodating its original owner's misgivings.

After a moment of silent eye contact, Mrs. Tracy actually stepped forward and pulled the brooch from the pocket.

"Every minute you delay increases your risk of discovery."

Not only that, but out of what seemed to be habitual politeness, Tracy offered the warning as soon as she had the item in hand.

"I know."

Fu Qian nodded in appreciation.

"But you still want to waste time?"

"Yeah."

"Even if you learn about whatever difficulties I'm facing, you have absolutely no intention of helping?"

"That's right."

...

"You really are a strange man."

The rapid-fire exchange ended with Mrs. Tracy falling silent.

After verifying that he really was just sitting there quietly, waiting, she finally spoke up with a sigh.

"However, since you have no intention of saving me, I suppose I can tell you."

...

Just as he had thought—never judge by appearances alone.

A place like the Sanitarium was exactly the sort of place to conceal hidden dragons and crouching tigers.

'I suppose I can tell you, so long as you can't help me'—Mrs. Tracy's logic was undeniably a bit abstract.

But for Fu Qian, this result was both highly gratifying and entirely unsurprising.

His previous actions hadn't been random whims born of an abstract mood, but a series of multifaceted tests.

In a classic movie plot, the right move would be to capitalize on his newly acquired body double and disguise, exploiting the time gap to the fullest and fleeing the area before anyone noticed.

It would even align perfectly with his Containment objective.

Unfortunately, for a mission numbered 1, expecting that kind of smooth sailing was a luxury he couldn't afford.

From the beginning until now, even if it looked like he had cleverly exploited two suckers to secure an escape route, the whole situation still felt far too simple to Fu Qian. It was so simple that he felt the need to probe beneath the surface.

Such as the contradictions surrounding Mrs. Tracy.

She was entirely uninvested, yet highly proactive. That paradox alone could have been explained away as some sort of honey trap driven by ulterior motives.

But as their conversation continued, she inadvertently revealed a rather splendid mental state.

In truth, that was exactly why he had used the brooch as a probe, and why he had ultimately chosen to tie her companion to the Chair.

Yes, the man's clothes fitting perfectly was only a very minor factor.

The core difference was that the unconscious man was, by comparison, far more mediocre.

As for why he had repeatedly emphasized his refusal to help?

First, it was the absolute truth.

Second, in Fu Qian's experience, people who exhibited contradictory behavior and wished to keep it hidden usually didn't want any help either.

The results proved his judgment correct. His repeated insistence that he wouldn't help had successfully struck a chord with her.

"I arrived here as Number 49 of last year."

Mrs. Tracy's opening sentence landed like a heavy blow to the brain.

"Tomorrow makes exactly a full year."

...

"The reason I originally came here was that I needed to calm myself—to suppress my craving for the opposite sex."

It seemed his earlier efforts had opened a long-sealed valve.

As Fu Qian listened quietly, Mrs. Tracy's urge to confess surged. She dove straight into the origins of her problem, and her words were shockingly explicit.

"I can't describe the urge, but I don't believe it's my fault. I can hear that Heat Current churning inside my body.

"Even the horse I ride during hunts grows manic from the scent I give off... Can you understand?"

She even made it an interactive experience. At one point, Tracy let out a long breath and paused to verify that Fu Qian was following along.

"I can. But an issue like that hardly seems severe enough to warrant locking yourself in a place like this, does it?"

Fu Qian gave a slight nod, indicating he could picture it perfectly, though he questioned whether such drastic measures were truly necessary.

"...I believe you now. You truly aren't going to help me."

Yet this somewhat unconventional observation actually made Mrs. Tracy's eyes light up.

"You're right. Mere excessive passion is nothing. The main reason I locked myself away here was the unnecessary pressure it placed on our social connections. This was a joint decision made with my husband."

That made sense. Social pressure... It sounded as if Mrs. Tracy's husband hadn't minded her hedonistic pursuits all that much, provided she chose her partners carefully. Choosing the wrong targets, however, threatened to fracture their carefully maintained social network.

"And from my very first day here, I really did notice a change. That warm current began to quiet down."

Slipping quickly back into her story, Mrs. Tracy reflected on the past, a sudden trace of dread appearing in her expression.

"But I despise the reason why. The only reason my desires faded is because I constantly feel as though a pair of eyes is watching me.

"That feeling snuffed out certain flames inside me, changing me until I was no longer myself... And yet, no matter how hard I search, I can't find the watcher, or even catch a trace of them.

"A full year is almost up, and I have a growing premonition. I feel that I will finally see those eyes on that day—right when I am sucked completely dry."

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