Eldritch Horror Theatre

Was it really number 52?

It was truly like hearing thunder in utter silence. Mrs. Tracy had only just woken up and her voice remained frail, yet the sheer impact of that moment hit with full force.

This was why Fu Qian had been in no rush to leave. One of the minor questions he wanted to confirm was his earlier theory regarding the Well of Time.

During his conversation with the Recorder Old Man, he had swapped keywords one after another, pushing the date all the way to number 52.

His primary goal at the time had naturally been to avoid the extreme scenario he had imagined—where everyone here was a villain, the old man especially so, and a single slip-up could jump the timeline straight to Judgment Day.

Now, the facts proved his fears hadn't been baseless. Time really had leaped forward three whole days in one fell swoop, arriving at number 52.

This was despite the sky outside showing no noticeable change.

Even more absurdly, "number 52" was theoretically just a search keyword. He had never explicitly told the man to jump the timeline to that specific day, yet it had still triggered such a powerful memetic effect.

Demon Mountain was truly sinister.

Of course, this brought up a minor logical issue—did the people of Demon Mountain all have such a strong concept of time?

Mrs. Tracy had been unconscious the entire time, logically completely unaware of the outside world.

Yet the moment she opened her eyes, without even glancing at a calendar, she instantly deduced she had been out cold for three days?

On one hand, time in this place was treated like a joke, entirely devoid of strictness. On the other hand, did everyone here come with a built-in biological clock? It certainly seemed so.

Thinking back on the few examples he had encountered so far, Fu Qian had to admit that a biological clock was a rather fitting explanation.

Hadn't the Hairpin Woman done the exact same thing? Without batting an eye, she had been walking along before abruptly announcing that it was six o'clock.

The same went for Mrs. Tracy when she first delivered the bad news that it was already number 49; she had stated it with the same matter-of-fact certainty.

It was deeply ironic. Time—the only element that had demonstrably lost all seriousness here so far—somehow maintained a Transcendent Tier level of exactness in the minds of Demon Mountain's residents.

It was as if everyone had an invisible clock hanging right before their eyes, constantly syncing in real time.

"Yeah, you were sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to wake you," Fu Qian replied.

Picturing that surreal scenario, he answered Mrs. Tracy's statement.

"Sleeping soundly..."

Unfortunately, she clearly wasn't buying it. Repeating his excuse in a low mutter, Mrs. Tracy reached up and pressed a hand against the spot where his knifehand had struck her neck.

Her memory was evidently intact, leaving her with a very fresh recollection of exactly why she had been "sleeping soundly."

"It does feel a bit different. But sleeping for three whole days... wouldn't that delay things?"

Rubbing her neck as she stared at Fu Qian, she raised a perfectly reasonable question.

...

"It's fine. After all, I rested for three days alongside you."

Mrs. Tracy's tone was hardly friendly, but Fu Qian's response was mild. He even deeply empathized with her statement.

Had things been delayed? Without a doubt.

With this minor verification complete, it was practically cemented that four days of his thirteen-day window before Judgment Day had already been consumed.

And he hadn't even ground out much of a step count.

Throw in the occasional Well of Time, and even worse, the predetermined death condition... his upcoming maneuvers were going to be far less leisurely than being chased by rabid dogs.

Of course, Mrs. Tracy clearly had no way of empathizing with this point.

As was evident from earlier, this Demon Mountain crowd possessed a distinct disposition of being so deep in the mountain that they couldn't see its true face.

They were completely oblivious to the warped flow of time.

They might lament how easily time slipped away, but they never suspected that anything was actually wrong.

"Have you been here this entire time for the past three days? What have you been doing?"

Mrs. Tracy looked genuinely startled by Fu Qian's statement.

Amid her incredulous questions, she couldn't resist running her hands over herself, checking every part of her body.

What had he been doing?

For Fu Qian, recalling the answer to that took no effort at all.

"Chatted for a bit, then waited for you to wake up."

Gazing out the window, he completed his description with just two verbs.

"How are you feeling?"

...

He waited three days, just to ask how she felt after waking up?

It was clear Mrs. Tracy was once again shocked by what she heard.

To her, both actions were clearly "understandable."

After all, right before she was attacked and knocked unconscious, the two of them really had chatted for a bit.

"Are you really not lying to me? Why would you do such a thing?"

As she recalled more details, she clearly remembered the confession Fu Qian had made earlier.

Those eyes really were there, and they belonged to the man right in front of her...

"Then why did you two have to do that right in front of me?"

Unfortunately, she was met only with a sharp counter-question.

...

"Actually, you should just say it's all my fault. If I hadn't been spying from the shadows, you wouldn't have done such a thing either."

Seeing Tracy momentarily struck speechless, Fu Qian kindly reminded her that this was the perfect time to shift the blame.

"But I suppose that isn't too important to you—what matters is how you feel right now. Is the surging Heat Current still there?"

Though without waiting for her to accept the lesson, Fu Qian had already skipped past the topic.

How do you feel...

Mrs. Tracy looked over in bewilderment, seemingly realizing in that instant that this had been his original question all along.

"I don't know..." she murmured, shaking her head in pain after a few seconds of thought. "And I still don't understand why you would do this, or how you even managed it."

Not only could she not provide an answer, but she was helplessly tangled in her previous questions.

"Good."

Fu Qian's response was completely devoid of human decency.

Even though she had refused to answer him, he actually gave a slight nod, looking immensely satisfied.

"In return, I won't answer your questions either. You can take your time and figure it out yourself."

Having flatly refused to answer, he immediately stood up and walked out.

...

This truly felt like a Long Night.

Meeting no resistance, Fu Qian stepped outside. He sighed inwardly as he drew in a deep breath of the dark, chilled air.

In the unpolluted sky above, the stars and moon were clearly visible, casting a luminous layer of light over the ground at his feet.

Unfortunately, such a beautiful night scene couldn't stop an oppressive heaviness from weighing on him.

Especially when he looked around and saw absolutely no one else in sight.

Of course, his earlier insistence on dragging out the conversation hadn't merely been to stave off this creeping desolation.

Nor was it some gesture of goodwill, offering talk therapy to untangle Mrs. Tracy's psychological knots as a reward for her intel.

The core reason he had stayed behind after confirming the remaining days was incredibly simple: to eliminate Mrs. Tracy's threat to the timeline to the greatest possible extent.

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