Eldritch Horror Theatre

"Why are you leaving in such a hurry?"

Over Kelly's scream, Yuer's voice drifted from behind Brooke.

The headless corpse was shoved aside, silently collapsing to the floor to reveal a mocking Yuer.

"Your understanding of this Nightmare is still far too shallow."

"The escape route you left for yourself is nowhere near as reliable as you thought."

"Is this not my Mind Space?"

The killer clung to him like a shadow, yet Fu Qian remained securely strapped to the chair. Despite the grim situation, he only looked slightly puzzled, showing no signs of panic.

"It is."

Yuer sneered, confirming Fu Qian's guess.

"Mental world? What do you mean..."

Beside them, Kelly had finally managed to calm herself. Hearing this, she stared at Fu Qian in shock.

"Exactly what it sounds like."

Fu Qian couldn't be bothered to explain too much to her.

"Can you untie me now?"

...

Kelly's expression twisted in conflict as she looked from Brooke's corpse on the floor to Yuer and his blade.

But before she could make up her mind, Yuer snapped his fingers.

The next moment, her figure vanished without a trace.

Inside the oppressive Interrogation Room, only Yuer and Fu Qian remained.

"More often than not, petty cleverness has no place in the hall of great elegance."

Having banished Kelly, Yuer stepped forward unhurriedly, smiling down at Fu Qian.

"Especially in places you aren't familiar with."

"I think I understand."

"Every world I've experienced is actually real, isn't it?"

Fu Qian tapped his fingers lightly against the armrest.

"I was a little misled earlier. I kept trying to distinguish which world was real and which was an illusion."

"Looking at it now, the power that forged this Nightmare truly possesses an absurdly high Rank. High enough to manifest every possible iteration of the world."

"The seemingly real world, the day of the accident, the eerie, unpopulated wasteland, and even the mental space formed by my own thoughts."

"They're like multiple facets of a single entity. Under its gaze, they all exist in parallel."

"That must be why I could bring the gun out of here—because any given world can influence the others."

"It really challenges the imagination. Truly worthy of a Nightmare!"

"Your reaction is faster than I imagined. I thought you would need to die a few times before realizing this."

Yuer did not hold back his praise, even clapping his hands together.

"You guessed right. They are chaotic existences that distort and influence one another. My ability isn't anything special—I can just freely shuttle between them."

"I trust that you now have a much clearer understanding of our previous conversation?"

"I said I would let death ravage your will until you completely break, and that I would enjoy the process."

"Now, take that fear and resentment with you to the grave."

"And I eagerly look forward to how you'll respond the next time we meet."

He stepped forward as he spoke. With a flash of cold light, he thrust his curved blade straight out.

The blade pressed against Fu Qian's neck, slicing open his windpipe inch by inch.

It was obvious he truly enjoyed the process.

Yet the very next moment, a brief hesitation interrupted Yuer's slow, resolute movements.

To his surprise, he realized that not a single drop of blood was flowing from the severed flesh.

"Oh?"

A strong, ominous premonition surged in his chest as Fu Qian's voice rang out right in front of him.

"What's going on here?"

Raising his gaze, he saw the lamb waiting to be slaughtered in the chair suddenly smile.

That smile was like a seed; for the first time, an emotion called fear took root in Yuer's heart.

He was undoubtedly an extremely cautious man. Faced with this abnormality, his first reaction was to retreat until everything returned to his control.

Yet a moment later, he realized he could no longer slip away at will.

At some unseen moment, a hard, sharp claw had clamped onto the back of his neck.

Though it only dug slightly into his flesh, the claw exerted an incomprehensible, suppressive force.

"Fu Qian, thirty-three years old."

Fu Qian wore a calm expression as he spoke that bizarre line.

A moment later, amid a ceaseless series of cracking sounds, he simply stood up.

The seemingly impenetrable metal buckles were as fragile as paper before him.

"You..."

The disbelief in Yuer's eyes as he stared at Fu Qian reached its absolute peak.

He finally realized that the thing gripping the back of his neck was a hand extending from beneath Fu Qian's clothes.

Except that hand was no longer human.

Not only had it grotesquely stretched to nearly twice its normal length, but the arm's surface was covered in a layer of yellow-and-black carapace. Curved Spikes jutted from the gaps, looking exceptionally hideous.

"I live in the Lincheng Gubei Area, unmarried, freelance. I never work overtime, never smoke, never drink alone, never define, never..."

Fu Qian didn't even look at him. He merely stared blankly ahead, reciting his heavily altered script.

"I don't force a set bedtime, don't force how long I sleep, don't force routines before bed, and don't force whether I fall asleep at all."

He looked down at his own arm.

"Doing whatever I please, acting recklessly, all just to pursue that sliver of light belonging to intelligent life."

"Even encountering incomprehensible existences will not make me deny myself."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

Fu Qian's seemingly plain words seemed to inflict immense pressure on Yuer.

"What I'm trying to say? I suppose it's that weakness and ignorance are not obstacles to survival—arrogance is."

Fu Qian shook his head emotionlessly.

"I have a phrase to return to you: your understanding of this Nightmare is still far too shallow."

"Impossible!"

"Transcendent power isn't allowed to exist in here. There's no way you still possess such abilities!"

Yuer practically roared the words.

"The first sentence is correct, but the second is far too arbitrary. Brother Duke, don't take things for granted."

Fu Qian shook his head. In just this brief moment, clusters of bizarre patterns had already surfaced on his face.

As he spoke, rows of Spikes pierced through his shoulder blades and chest, shredding his upper garments to pieces.

Through the tattered clothing, Yuer realized in horror that Fu Qian's chest had turned translucent, looking as though only a thin layer of flesh remained.

The most terrifying part was the incessant heaving and writhing beneath it. It looked as if something was roaming inside, having already eaten his internal organs entirely hollow.

"The bug from the museum—"

Yuer came to a sudden realization.

"You swallowed it?"

"Yeah!"

Fu Qian stroked his chest.

"This thing really isn't easy to digest."

"Impossible! I know you secretly kept one, but I've been watching you this entire time. Nothing you do escapes my eyes. When did you—swallowing the gun!"

Yuer made the connection, staring at Fu Qian in sheer disbelief.

"That whole performance of yours was actually to cover up swallowing the bug. You never intended to commit suicide at all!"

"You knew all along that I could see what was happening here?"

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