Eldritch Horror Theatre

Wasn't this a bit too obvious?

Keeping a notebook full of critical information inside a safe was unusual, but understandable.

But what was the point of leaving a pen with it? That felt entirely too interactive.

It practically screamed at whoever opened the safe: "I've been waiting for you."

Throw in the original key, the unlocked door, and the untouched combination dial... it wasn't even trying to hide its intent.

No wonder the Director had repeatedly dodged the gracious invitation to come inside.

Attending Physician Servis's posturing was far more aggressive than it appeared.

Which raised the question: after luring the Director all the way here to see this, how exactly did Servis expect him to interact with it?

The answer seemed simple enough. Fu Qian reached into the safe and pulled out both the notebook and the pen.

Since he was looking for a thrill, he might as well see it through to the end.

The moment he had chosen to advance into the office instead of retreating, any room to maneuver had vanished.

From Servis's perspective, forcibly dismissing the crowd outside meant a sacrifice had already been made.

It had heavily drained his resources and vaguely exposed his information advantage to the Director.

Thinking that knowing when to stop would make the Attending Physician forgive and forget—letting him walk away with free intelligence to maintain their united front—was hopelessly naive.

From here on out, everything Servis did would be a stress response to a spiraling situation.

That "spiraling" included losing his aloof posture; he could no longer sit back and watch Fu Qian and the Director trade blows.

It also meant losing his psychological read on Fu Qian as the intruder.

From the beginning until now, the Columnist's actions had grown increasingly erratic, constantly crossing established boundaries.

His initial attempts to steer the narrative could easily be chalked up to rebelliousness against the Director's behavior.

From Servis's perspective, that had even been a trait worth exploiting.

But his subsequent rapid flip-flopping—maintaining an ambiguous attitude even when presented with a chance to escape—had to have raised some eyebrows.

Buyiren delivering the second note had only dragged those suspicions out into the open.

The Director's move was a textbook open scheme.

It didn't matter if Fu Qian understood the underlying logic or wanted to accept this invitation to formally join the game; Servis would simply assume he was already seated at the table.

After all, even if it were a brilliant strategy, what made him think Servis didn't know what was written on that note?

Theoretically, Buyiren worked for Servis anyway. Not to mention, if Servis had the means to cheat a simple Black Box, he could certainly intercept a message.

And as long as Servis knew what the note said—and knew Fu Qian had read it—Fu Qian's role in this play was functionally tainted by a memetic hazard.

Servis could no longer evaluate and use him purely as a simple pawn; he had to cautiously observe Fu Qian's reactions and assess the risks.

And what answered him was a tidal wave of risk.

The Columnist faintly displayed the confidence of a madman, casually manifesting a Black Box without batting an eye in a "delusional" bid to maintain control of the situation.

It instantly detonated the standoff, throwing half the Sanitarium into chaos.

At this point, a genuine three-way stalemate had formed. The Columnist could no longer be treated as a mere pawn.

The next step would have been to watch his ongoing performance, weighing it for their intricate strategic maneuvering.

Yet, as previously established, the Columnist's actions crossed the line once again. He threw the door wide open and completely flipped the table, plunging straight into madness.

By now, from Servis's perspective, he had every right to imagine the absolute worst.

The simple, pure goodwill one might show an ignorant tool was entirely gone, leaving only cold calculations of leverage—which was exactly what Fu Qian wanted.

From the very beginning, Fu Qian had considered such basic goodwill unreliable. Wasting his time and energy trying to earn it simply wasn't worth the effort.

Aside from forcing the Attending Physician to help mitigate the risks of the Well of Time, everything he had done served one core purpose: strictly business. He wanted to shift everything into a cold exchange of interests.

And in any exchange of interests, it was common knowledge that one needed as many bargaining chips as possible.

For instance, what exactly had happened here? What did Servis actually want the Director to do?

He had a very good chance of gleaning some of this information from the notebook—

'Reael does not truly hold any affection for me...'

Even as Fu Qian casually flipped the notebook open, the very first passage that caught his eye instantly delivered a massive wave of information.

...

As it turned out, high expectations did not always lead to massive disappointment.

At first glance, the name "Reael" seemed entirely unrelated to the Sanitarium.

Even Fu Qian's initial reaction was that she wasn't someone from this facility.

'What drove her to approach me was a thirst for my power, and she utilized her exceptional acting skills to conceal this fact...'

The reason was simple: the person bearing this name seemed to be a ruthless character who had romanced a vampire.

Skimming the following lines, Fu Qian noted that not only was this genuinely a notebook, but he had even seen this woman's name before—

The Gulade Family. Abyss Notes.

That was right. These exact words were identical to those in the Secret Treasure of the Blood Clan that Brother Taylor had brought to him.

'After repeated testing, garlic indeed affects the state of the Blood Clan... suppressing reproductive capabilities...'

As he continued reading, he found the subsequent entries matched word for word.

'Blood Clan Progenitor Annalise has completely fallen.'

It even included the new entries he had added himself after the notebook had fallen into his clutches.

The cover and dimensions weren't very similar, but was this actually another copy of the Abyss Notes?

...

It was a truly shocking discovery.

Fu Qian had already made numerous guesses about what might be inside the safe—items both of the Transcendent Tier and non-extraordinary.

But he had been certain of one thing: whatever Servis had so painstakingly arranged for the Director to see wouldn't be simple.

Given their bitter rivalry and the Director's sheer refusal to enter the office—even dragging in scapegoats to avoid it—it had to be something that would grant Servis the absolute upper hand.

Something like the Director's medical records, using irrefutable facts to prove that the man was indeed a patient.

After all, in a place like this, what was more terrifying than being completely unable to prove you weren't sick?

Not to mention, it was an open secret that Old Man Servis relished complex medical cases. His endless accommodations for the Director might just be a bizarre form of alternative treatment.

Regardless, it had to be something closely connected to the Director.

Yet, against all expectations, the item before him... was actually something closely connected to Fu Qian himself?

'Jia Keke is over fifty years old.'

Fu Qian casually flipped to another page and immediately spotted the very entry he had written himself.

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