Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Since you figured it out, I suppose I have no choice."

He was, after all, someone Professor Fu respectfully addressed as Elder Lu. Even with his intentions exposed, he didn't just slump over and claim he had no other choice.

Lu Ming's expression shifted several times before settling into another cold sneer, his tone shifting to one of laying his cards on the table.

"I still have to marvel at how sharp you are—and how arrogant," he said. "You clearly noticed what was happening, yet instead of finding a way to escape, you chose to stay and bicker?"

His movements hadn't stopped as he spoke; that human arm of his was already raised high into the air.

Thanks to his bizarre anatomy, the arm reached an astonishing height. Poking out from the tangled tentacles, it rose past his own head, past Kikuchi's head, and finally past the building's wreckage—

Borne upward by the continuously elongating tentacles, the hand seemed ready to plunge into the endless night sky. Even Fu Qian clicked his tongue in marvel. The only pity was the lack of a moon in that gloomy, profound darkness.

"Or did you think that just because you exposed my plan, I'd gladly stand around and waste time chatting with you as long as you were willing to talk?"

Unfortunately, before Fu Qian could express his thoughts on the matter, Old Man Lu spoke again, his tone dripping with resolute murderous intent.

"I don't know what you're trying to achieve, nor do I know how many backup plans you brought with you this time. But I do know that when dealing with someone like you, it's best not to waste words."

You really are never too old to learn. Had Old Man Lu finally wised up?

Those last words were delivered with ironclad conviction, his tone so resolute it felt steeped in blood and tears.

And Fu Qian, who was undoubtedly playing the villain in this scenario, couldn't help but admire this spirit of learning from past mistakes.

"You're wasting words right now."

Though Fu Qian didn't voice the thought aloud, someone nearby was more than happy to say it for him.

Having remained silent for a good while, Kikuchi—who looked like he was physically aching from holding it in—finally couldn't resist urging him on.

"Either help, or shut up."

Unfortunately, Lu Ming was Employee No. 002. It was obvious that after their recent period of forced cooperation, Lu Ming had taken the lead role in their duo, instantly shutting him down with a single retort.

Not only that, but one of Kikuchi's own arms, pulled by the writhing tentacles, reached straight for his face, as if to forcefully shut his mouth for him.

However, the maneuver wasn't entirely smooth; it was blocked halfway by one of Old Man Lu's feet.

Was this the legendary 'you are in me, and I am in you'?

It was a rather comical sight, but it confirmed Fu Qian's earlier conclusion.

These limbs were not only still nimble, but because they were strictly part of a single entity through their connection, they seemed capable of receiving commands from both men simultaneously.

As a result, whenever they disagreed, the scene would get rather lively.

But this was no time to watch the show. Old Man Lu's extended hand was practically plucking the stars from the sky, looking exactly like he was demanding the whole world raise their hands and lend him their energy to form a Spirit Bomb... Wait, was there really one?

Fu Qian had merely been making an analogy, but the surreal nature of the dreamscape had once again manifested it literally.

From behind the mountain of coiling tentacles, out of the surviving wreckage of the Laboratory, they emerged one by one, piece by piece—

Hundreds upon thousands of varying transcendent limbs poked out from the rubble, silently 'watching' the commotion.

So Old Man Lu and Kikuchi hadn't eaten them after all?

Even while being aggressively observed by such a massive audience, Fu Qian didn't neglect the details.

He quickly noticed the most glaring distinction: just like the two they had encountered earlier, none of these limbs were connected to the tentacles.

So in theory, the two elders shouldn't have been able to command them directly. Yet, Old Man Lu had issued an order anyway.

Amidst these optimistic deductions, he watched the star-reaching hand slowly lower, pointing straight at him like the finger of Death calling his name.

Crackle!

Almost simultaneously, a curved golden horn nearby suddenly flared with light, lashing out with a Lightning Whip aimed straight at him.

"Oh?"

It was undoubtedly another Demigod Level strike. However, as Fu Qian casually raised his guard, he realized that his own flesh—currently stained a deep, eerie blue—was subtly tugging at the attack, acting almost like a taunt.

Interesting. This must be what they were waiting for.

He had suspected earlier that the only reason those two were willing to waste time talking to him was to let the tentacle corruption on his body spread as much as possible.

As for what they intended to do once the corruption worsened, the scene unfolding before him seemed to be the answer.

Old Man Lu's actions seemed theatrical, but they clearly reflected a profound understanding of his own predicament.

He hadn't just broken through the cognitive barrier; he had even figured out how to seize a degree of control over the situation.

They might not be able to command the limbs' movements directly, but it appeared they could use some form of guidance to make him the sole target of the attacks.

The deeper the corruption ran, the easier this process became.

The old man hadn't been lying, either; even at this stage, the effect was already considerable.

Just as Fu Qian shattered the Lightning Whip with a slap, a deformed, ghostly claw launched itself through the air at him. It expanded a hundredfold in mid-flight, radiating a suffocating pressure.

"Oh?"

Swatting something like that out of the air seemed a bit unwise. Fu Qian didn't push it, opting instead to lightly dodge to the side.

Squelch. However, accompanying that subtle evasive maneuver, a burst of bloody light erupted across his body.

'Cannot walk on walls'?

Fu Qian, who always maintained a precise understanding of his own condition, was absolutely certain he hadn't been hit.

Was this a Chastisement triggered by violating the White Tower Codex?

The process of elimination quickly kicked in, helping him lock onto a cause.

But he hadn't been walking on a wall either, had he?

Glancing down at his feet, Fu Qian confirmed that after the recent devastation, there was absolutely nothing left there that could be called a wall. Yet Old Man Lu and the others had still managed to define it as one?

He could eliminate possibilities, but not blindly. Factoring in what had been said earlier about controlling the dreamscape, Fu Qian forced himself to reach an astonishing explanation.

They could define concepts themselves? Had they really reached such a level?

Perhaps not many people were as bored as he was, taking actual pleasure in memorizing the contents of the Codex.

But as a manager of the Laboratory, the probability of Old Man Lu being intimately familiar with the place's various rules and regulations was undoubtedly far higher than anyone else's.

The old man truly hadn't been joking about going all out. Not only had he drawn a massive wave of aggro onto Fu Qian, but he had also leveraged the reactivated Codex to quietly weave a web restricting his movements, pushing his home-field advantage to the absolute limit.

Even now, while holding the absolute upper hand, he remained completely silent, resolutely avoiding the blunder of dying from talking too much.

In that case—

Fu Qian didn't force the issue. Instead, he simply snapped his fingers and reactivated his halo.

Only this time, his body didn't expand. Instead, a violently swirling Crimson Storm swept out in all directions.

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