Eldritch Horror Theatre

Having a distinct personality was a good thing, but being too distinct made it easy to take a beating.

At this moment, Fu Qian's blatant act of adding fuel to the fire left the spectating crowd absolutely dumbfounded.

Although most of them only knew this rookie's name, Fu Qian's words and actions were vastly different from what they had imagined.

If nothing else, his personality could only be described as abysmal.

Could it be that the people at Siren simply couldn't stand his personality and fired him for that alone?

Though highly unlikely, the thought crept into more than a few minds.

"Courting death!"

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the leather-clad man was clearly struggling to save face.

He had assumed this guy was a clueless rookie and figured he could coax and scare some information out of him. He hadn't expected him to be this stubbornly impervious.

The man in the leather jacket clearly wasn't a saint either. As he spoke, a gleaming set of brass knuckles appeared in his hand.

Not only did he not hide them, but he deliberately flashed them in front of Fu Qian's eyes before giving a savage sneer.

It was obvious that this guy was well-versed in the essence of indoor brawling, and that he came fully equipped.

Unfortunately for him, in the very next moment, the dark muzzle of a gun was leveled directly at him.

...

No one had expected Fu Qian to draw a gun right here. Faced with the rapid escalation of the conflict, the spectators reacted strongly, backing away with their glasses in hand to give the two men a wide berth.

"Lesson one: making an empty show of strength is useless against veterans."

The leather-clad man merely sneered at Fu Qian's actions, looking utterly disdainful.

"I bet you don't have the guts—"

Click!

Before he could even finish his sentence, Fu Qian pulled the trigger.

In that split second, the man displayed unbelievable agility, dodging to the side almost on pure reflex.

It was clear that despite his outward disdain, he had been staring intently at Fu Qian's hands the entire time so he could react at a moment's notice.

Unfortunately, he realized a moment later that no muzzle flash had erupted from the gun. His expression instantly turned extremely ugly.

"No—"

Fu Qian drew his hand back and leisurely blew at the muzzle of the gun.

"You didn't dare bet."

...

The entire room fell silent. The leather-clad man's face had turned a deep, liverish purple.

If it had been just a clash of egos earlier, a desire to teach this arrogant kid a lesson, he was now harboring genuine murderous intent.

The surrounding crowd was full of seasoned veterans who could clearly sense the shift in the atmosphere. The open space around the two men immediately widened by another circle.

"Felix, you know the price for fighting in here!"

Seeing that the situation was about to spiral out of control, Nora, who was sitting off to the side, spoke up coldly.

She had remained in her seat ever since the leather-clad man approached, making it clear she wasn't afraid of him.

Of course, she hadn't stopped the previous conflict either. In her eyes, this young man's behavior was truly awful, and he probably deserved to be taught a lesson.

She had only spoken up now because she saw that Felix was genuinely out for blood.

...

Nora's words clearly had some effect.

Hearing the word 'price', the enraged Felix noticeably hesitated, and the seething murderous intent radiating from him faltered.

"Are you trying to protect this brat?"

However, swallowing his anger like this was obviously still difficult for Felix. In the next moment, he directed his hostility squarely at Nora.

"You're overthinking it. I have no interest in protecting anyone. It was just a casual reminder."

Nora looked like she couldn't be bothered to waste words, turning her head to shoot a glance at Fu Qian.

At this very moment, this guy was actually fiddling with his handgun with a serious expression, paying absolutely no mind to the deadly threat right in front of him.

She could only conclude that it was rare to see someone so thoroughly courting death.

"Now that the reminder has been given, you may continue."

Nora didn't say anything else. Tossing out that single sentence, she stood up and walked away.

...

Nora left so decisively that Felix was left hanging once again, his face flashing between red and white.

She was clearly in a bad mood and had no interest in offering him a graceful way to back down.

But by now, his initial surge of fury had passed. Thinking of the consequences of killing someone in here, he briefly considered retreating.

The kicker was that the idiot across from him was still earnestly toying with his weapon, not even sparing him a single glance.

In the face of such a contemptuous attitude, just tossing out some harsh words and leaving would make him look weak.

"That's enough."

Amid the awkwardness, a deep, heavy voice came from the direction of the bar.

The speaker was an older man with deep laugh lines, his graying hair styled meticulously, and his clothes perfectly neat.

"Do not disrupt everyone's rare relaxation time."

His voice wasn't particularly loud, but it was exceptionally clear. It carried an inexplicable authority that made people instinctively want to obey.

"Tyr!"

Felix clearly recognized this man.

"Since you've said so..."

In the next moment, he snorted, putting on a show of giving Tyr some face, then turned and walked away.

A subconscious intuition made Felix deliberately keep his words vague, avoiding the usual threats like 'I'll let this kid off the hook for now.'

Because he had a sneaking suspicion that if he actually said that, the kid sitting there would likely respond with something like, "No need to let me off, just beat me to death."

By then, the situation would undoubtedly become incredibly awkward.

...

Felix's sullen departure caused an unexpected good show to come to an abrupt halt.

It was easy to see that the crowd was quite disappointed.

However, Tyr, the man who had spoken last, seemed to hold high prestige here, and no one sought him out to express their dissatisfaction.

At this point, Fu Qian finally finished tinkering with his weapon.

The empty chamber in the cylinder wasn't because he had popped a round out at the last second.

After initially discovering that he had blown his own head off with the gun, he hadn't reloaded that round, instead leaving it empty.

This was a trick learned from cowboys. Because old-fashioned revolvers had no safeties, if the cylinder was fully loaded, an accidental discharge could easily hit the thigh and send the shooter to the afterlife.

If one's luck was particularly bad and it hit their family jewels, it would be an even greater tragedy.

Or perhaps not a tragedy, since the chances of surviving might actually be higher?

"A very fine weapon!"

At this moment, a shadow fell over him. It was Old Man Tyr; having finished his drink, he had come over and sat down, staring at the gun in Fu Qian's hand.

"You flatter me."

Fu Qian nodded, actually understanding why the man was using this tone.

It was because firearms were an extremely special existence in this world.

Their manufacture and usage were subjected to extremely strict management by the Night Watchers.

Aside from a few authorized institutions, private manufacturing was a felony among felonies, making their prices exorbitant.

It was said that in the early days, quite a few people had protested, arguing that this left ordinary people even more defenseless against transcendents. Unfortunately, the Night Watchers remained completely unmoved, implementing the policy with an almost iron-fisted ruthlessness.

"Thanks for helping to defuse the situation just now."

As he thought about this, Fu Qian took the opportunity to express his gratitude for Tyr's intervention.

"That is completely unnecessary."

Tyr merely waved his hand with a placid expression, looking at Fu Qian's face.

"I was only stopping Felix from committing suicide."

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