Eldritch Horror Theatre

If Old Man Henry happened to drop by right now, he would just have to wait.

Considering his destination was fairly obvious, even if Chief Yuan found out, she probably wouldn't be too worried.

Before long, Fu Qian was peering down at Shangjing through the night sky, muttering about a certain retired Night Watcher who had yet to arrive.

According to his agreement with Yuan Shan, he was supposed to stay put in Shangjing as much as possible for the time being.

But just moments ago, Fu Qian had been struck by the thought of revisiting an old haunt. He had decided to look up an old acquaintance before heading to the banquet.

In what could be called his most unrestrained move in days, not only did he travel entirely under his true face, but he hadn't even paid for the plane ticket.

Using the card Yuan Shan had given him to forcibly commandeer a seat, Fu Qian successfully prevented some young man's degenerate trip to the Ring Archipelago.

Yes, such a stunt was bound to draw attention, but Fu Qian didn't mind exposing his destination.

The headquarters of the White Tower Company, the birthplace of the Rebirth Club, a lawless haven of unbridled indulgence...

It seemed he was due for a vacation.

...

'Still as white as ever. So old Ibu didn't give the archipelago a massive makeover after all.'

Following a smooth and relatively brief flight, one of the liveliest beaches on the outskirts of the Ring Archipelago welcomed a figure who quietly settled in to sunbathe.

Dressed in casual clothes, Fu Qian had even gone out of his way to get a Deck Chair. Sprawled out in true vacation mode, he peered at the distant White Tower through the gap in his sunglasses.

Atmosphere was everything. There were no scenes of outright moral decay, but the entire beach was undeniably steeped in an astonishing sense of relaxation.

Men and women, young and old—everyone was acting like frolicking donkeys that had just shed all of life's burdens, giving off the vibe that they wouldn't even bat an eye at relieving themselves right there on the sand.

That was just a metaphor, of course; the beach remained remarkably clean.

This was exactly why he had praised Excellency Ibu earlier.

Even though the once-supreme White Tower Codex had already been stripped of its transcendent divinity due to his own blasphemy...

...the Demigod who inherited the mantle of the King of the White Tower still seemed to ensure that certain rules were strictly enforced.

As a result, this haven of sensual pleasures and debauchery still retained a faint glimmer of its past glory.

"Care for a drink?"

Even the customer service standards had held up well. In the short time he'd been lounging there, this was already the third person to ask him that question.

"Sure."

Unlike his casual rejections the first two times, Fu Qian agreed right away.

The reason was simple. Although the previous two servers also boasted explosive, curvaceous figures, neither of them had a pair of wings growing out of her back.

To think he would run into a familiar face so soon. Back in the day, she had even wished for him to become the King of the White Tower.

Fu Qian's gaze fell upon the scantily clad succubus, confirming he wasn't mistaken.

"Thank you."

The drink she handed him still looked like a glass of blood, and she offered a sweet smile, her voice soft and enchanting.

Having weathered the recent upheavals, this succubus waitress was somehow still employed here—a feat undoubtedly tied to her stellar performance metrics.

No wonder people always said the best investment you could make was in yourself.

"Sir... are you here to watch the tournament?"

Long accustomed to such gazes, the succubus didn't shy away in the slightest. However, a flicker of oddity crossed her expression as they made eye contact.

...

'Is her memory that good?'

Taking a sip of the bright red beverage, Fu Qian noted it still possessed that familiar taste.

At the same time, he could somewhat understand the succubus's reaction.

It seemed she had recognized him.

Sure, he was wearing his true face, and it hadn't been that long, but her memory was still rather astonishing.

After all, with the endless stream of visitors, she must look at countless faces every single day.

Naturally, Fu Qian had no intention of confirming his identity just to chat with a waitress. What truly piqued his interest was her question.

"The King of the White Tower? Isn't that an annual event? Has it started again?"

It had been less than half a year since Bai Jinting died at his feet. They were hosting another tournament this soon?

"It hasn't started yet, of course. There's still over a week to go... which is why I was curious."

Fu Qian's response seemed to put the succubus at ease. She let out a quiet sigh of relief—purposefully breathing it across his face—before blinking and explaining.

"Following the incident last time, the new person in charge changed the system. It's been broken up from once a year to four times a year, allowing everyone to maintain their enthusiasm more consistently."

So that was it. Who knew old Ibu actually possessed a bit of management savvy? He wasn't such an old fuddy-duddy after all.

Catching on immediately, Fu Qian completely understood the rationale behind the change.

From what he recalled, there were certain things Ibu strongly disliked—especially anything related to the Rebirth Club.

Once he took over the White Tower Company, even if he didn't drive out those who had already undergone modifications from the archipelago, he would definitely impose strict restrictions on the practice.

Under those circumstances, if he wanted to sustain the archipelago's popularity, heavily promoting the deathmatch arena was a very natural choice.

It seemed to be working quite well, too. The island's prosperity hadn't visibly declined.

"I see. I'm not actually here for that; just taking a simple vacation. But if I get the chance, I'll go check it out."

Without prying into the details of the 'incident,' Fu Qian smiled and noted that he might add it to his itinerary.

"Vacationing alone?" the succubus asked, offering a soft "oh" as she probed a little further.

"Just me. I've thought about running into a few old friends, but I won't force it."

Fu Qian didn't mind.

...

The chat was quite pleasant. After treating Fu Qian to a refill, the succubus finally excused herself to return to work.

Having downed his first two glasses, Fu Qian sprawled out even more comfortably on his Deck Chair. The vacation atmosphere was thickening by the minute.

Of course, what he'd said about old friends was true.

The real reason he had flown straight here from Shangjing was because he'd been reminiscing about the past—specifically, the sequence of events when Bai Jinting had died so gruesomely at his feet.

According to the mission summary from back then, a mysterious higher entity had been drawn to his White Tower Codex, casting its gaze upon him and granting him immortality.

Whenever he was killed, the entire archipelago would immediately plunge into a special 'dream' that looped endlessly.

Yes, he had immediately tested it out with the Lucid Dream Ring at the time, confirming that it was a power akin to a dream.

So, after recently realizing that Annalise was deeply intertwined with the power of dreams, he had naturally made the connection.

More importantly, when he had toured the archipelago in that state, the most striking change in the sky had been the appearance of a massive blood moon...

Could it have been Annalise and Ti Lanqi?

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