Eldritch Horror Theatre

"See? It can all be explained. What is there that can't be explained?"

As he spoke, Recorder Old Man seemed to gradually sink into his memories.

But to Fu Qian, in that moment, everything finally made perfect sense.

Why had the Old Man developed such a quirk?

Why did he care so much about flawlessly completing the records?

How could his obviously deceased son serve as his secretary?

And even going back to the very beginning—why had he donated this place?

The pain of losing a son was indeed difficult to simply swallow.

Sounding deeply devastated, he had found an alternative way to keep his son alive in his memory.

To prove this, the Old Man had brought in many people, even using them as markers, continuously recording everything he saw to seek out the faintest trace of him.

As for how he had actually found him later, there was clearly no need to jump straight to thoughts of necromancy.

The Old Man simply "believed" he had found him.

"It really is a rather reasonable division of labor."

Fu Qian had no intention of bursting this bubble. Instead, he fully cooperated, nodding in praise.

"With so many people over the years, the records you've gathered must be enough to fill a small library, right? It really is much more suitable for a young person to handle the search work."

How could he let such a good topic slip by?

Although the Old Man had previously declared an end to their idle chat, he was obviously still quite talkative once the topic turned to his cherished family member.

"There really is too much. Even for him, it might take quite a while to find things, and I couldn't even sort the categories properly."

Sure enough, prompted by this, the recorder continued his lamentations.

It seemed like a sigh, but it was actually a boast. The Old Man was clearly very satisfied with his son's working abilities.

Tsk, tsk—

However, as a listener, Fu Qian sighed inwardly in that moment, feeling as if red warning lights were flashing frantically in his mind.

...

It might take "quite a while" to find?

In a place with Judgment Day looming overhead, those words were truly a bit inauspicious.

Given that his current actions were essentially tap-dancing in a minefield, no matter how harmonious things appeared on the surface, he had to maintain a sense of crisis.

Hairpin Woman had to rush back at six o'clock; someone was looking for Mrs. Tracy on number 49...

In terms of the concept of time, there had already been more than one precedent. Would the phrase "quite a while" carry a similar magic right now?

Of course, he had to look on the bright side. At least the sky outside didn't look like it was getting light just yet.

"I completely understand. I used to help out in a library, and it's definitely a chore.

"Do you want me to provide a few more keywords to narrow down the search scope?"

Quietly sensing the changes in the lighting, Fu Qian deeply empathized while offering this helpful suggestion.

Hmm...

Although no clear sound was made, Fu Qian leaned toward the idea that the Old Man hadn't directly refused. This silence was likely him "discussing" it with his son.

"That's fine too. You can give it a try."

His trust was rewarded very quickly. It soon sounded as if the father and son had finished their discussion, and the brother who had died young wasn't completely inflexible either.

"How about we add 'outsider' to the mix?"

Fu Qian naturally didn't hold back, immediately offering a special keyword first.

No matter how he looked at it, this task seemed somewhat unusual. He might as well check for traces of his predecessors.

"An outsider?"

The recorder's reaction sounded genuinely a bit unfamiliar.

"This word is useless."

That feeling was quickly confirmed. Just a dozen seconds later, the Old Man provided the result.

Interesting. So it was still a very new task? Was he the first to attempt Containment here?

That was somewhat thought-provoking.

Considering that the other party hadn't completely lost all opportunity, Fu Qian continued to ponder while providing another keyword.

"Then how about number 49?"

...

Like they say, everything has its pros and cons. This method of calculating dates might be bizarre, but it seemed much more concise and precise for pinpointing things.

The recorder once again remained silent. Fu Qian interpreted this as the message being received and felt quite satisfied for a moment.

Abstract dangers often required abstract methods of risk avoidance.

Unlike the previous 'outsider,' his main reason for providing this keyword was to target certain risks he had imagined.

"Unfortunately, this word is also useless."

The result was comforting. After a similar period of silence, the Old Man indicated it was invalid again, but he didn't imply that the word itself was wrong.

"What about number 50, then?"

Fu Qian felt no regret about this, simply continuing to count upward.

"This word is useless."

The Old Man's mindset was equally steady. He spent almost the same amount of time to reach the exact same conclusion.

"Number 51?"

Fu Qian still didn't give up, continuing step by step toward Judgment Day.

"Useless."

Not only did he still get no result, but the Old Man's efficiency didn't improve either.

"Number 52?"

This time, the silence finally seemed a bit longer.

"I seem to have found a record. Someone did indeed break in on this day."

When the Old Man finally spoke, he truly provided a gratifying answer.

...

"What is the name?"

For Fu Qian, this result was well-deserved, feeling exactly like picking up money off the street.

His tone might not have changed earlier, but if this date hadn't worked either, he actually wasn't prepared to continue. Instead, he planned to switch to a completely different type of search term.

The reason was simple: the core purpose of choosing a date format was to attempt to anchor the exit of the Well of Time in this manner.

After all, the Old Man's son needed "quite a while" to complete the search. Such an unquantified term was truly somewhat terrifying.

If, just like with Mrs. Tracy and the others, there was also a Well of Time buried in this, he couldn't rule out the possibility that by the time the open-ended search was completed, he would have already been sent to Judgment Day.

It was better to try approaching from a special angle to control the losses within an acceptable range. Number 52 was the temporarily designated limit for trial and error.

And if there were no results, Fu Qian wasn't prepared to stubbornly keep walking down a blind alley.

Of course, as an attempt, the theoretical probability of actually gaining anything wasn't high. After all, twelve days was still too short compared to a year.

As for why he didn't count backwards, starting from number 48 or even number 1?

It was very simple: there hadn't been any instances of time flowing backward so far.

Therefore, in Fu Qian's judgment, the danger level of those dates was a magnitude higher. He might just be assigned to that exact day in the following year.

And then it would be an instant game over.

In short, this chaotic game filled with too many uncertainties had ultimately yielded a comforting result—

"I found it. It's a woman, and her name is 'Lasik'."

As he silently reviewed the situation, the father-and-son duo didn't make him wait long, finally providing the answer.

Lasik... a woman?

He didn't even need any more detailed information. In that moment, Fu Qian stared at the dense, unmelting ink-like darkness outside the window, feeling as though the night at the Sanitarium had grown just a fraction colder.

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