Eldritch Horror Theatre

Pushing harder, he forced the heavy metal door open just enough for one person to slip through. Fu Qian squeezed out sideways.

Another corridor stretched out before him. Aside from being slightly wider than the last, it looked practically identical.

A short distance ahead, a massive red exclamation point was spray-painted above a raised stone platform.

The exclamation point pointed down to a small cassette tape resting on the platform—clearly left for him.

Further down, the corridor took a sharp ninety-degree turn, where a red arrow painted on the wall pointed around the corner.

'What is that smell?'

Fu Qian sniffed the air as he took in his surroundings.

He wasn't imagining it. A sharp, pungent odor hung in the air.

While he couldn't immediately identify the scent, there was no doubt he smelled danger.

Sure enough, right next to the opening where he had thrust his arm, there was another tiny hole.

A short piece of iron wire poked out of it. That must have been what the Key was hanging from.

Fu Qian crouched down for a closer look. From this side, he could clearly see the Razor Blades spinning silently inside the opening.

Brother Jigsaw hadn't been bluffing. Most of the time, a trap like that was more than capable of severing a hand.

Presumably, touching it even slightly would have disrupted the Razor Blades' balance, causing the wire holding the Key to retract and drop it to the floor.

"Astonishing."

While examining the mechanism, Fu Qian had swapped the cassette tape and pressed play. The familiar, raspy male voice spoke again.

"It seems you actually survived the first trial. I was worried my subsequent preparations would go to waste. I hope you relied on a calm and steady mind... Hahaha..."

The voice deliberately emphasized the word 'calm,' dripping with mockery.

"Regardless, congratulations. I hope you have enough spirit and stamina left for the rest of the game. After all, your time is running out."

The mastermind clearly hadn't anticipated that he would bypass the first trap in just three minutes.

Or that even if he did, he would likely have to spill some blood to do it.

"You are an avid reader. In your finite lifetime, you have consumed a massive number of books."

"You always keep a book in your bag. Every single one has rewarded you with something different. You revel in the collision of ideas, viewing the entertainments of your peers as a waste of life."

"But is that really the truth? Are you truly enamored with the wisdom of the sages, or simply addicted to the superiority that reading gives you?"

"Books act as a marker, segregating you from the rest of the world and telling you that others are inferior. Books are your shield and your crown, making you exceptional."

"Of course, you will deny this. But now you have the chance to prove exactly what books mean to you."

'Can a guy not even read to look pretentious these days without being judged?'

Fu Qian frowned as he listened to the recording.

'Don't most young people read—especially the classics—just for the sense of achievement? Is that actually a sin now?'

'They're barely out of diapers. How much deep resonance do you expect them to pull from One Hundred Years of Solitude?'

'Brother Jigsaw, did some straight-A student hurt you deeply in the past?'

Sarcastic thoughts aside, Fu Qian followed the painted arrow and rounded the corner.

The next moment, the source of the pungent odor became clear.

A rippling pool of liquid lay beyond the bend, completely submerging the floor of the corridor ahead.

That sharp, chemical stench was wafting up from the sickly yellow-green fluid.

"Do you see the window? Your path to freedom lies right in front of you, but it happens to be covered in a corrosive liquid."

'Window?'

Fu Qian looked up. At the far end of this flooded corridor stood another door, fitted with an old-fashioned electronic keypad.

High above the door was a small window, roughly forty centimeters in diameter, with no bars or glass blocking it.

It was obvious what the voice meant by a path to freedom. He had to cross the pool of corrosive liquid, climb up to that small window, and squeeze through.

"The tools to help you are close at hand. I hope you put them to good use."

Fu Qian had already noticed the tools in question. Stacked near the corner was a towering pile of thick, hardbound books.

"The liquid is not very deep, and these books are sturdy enough to pave a path for you. However, their numbers are limited. You will need to weigh your options carefully and allocate them wisely."

"Reading a book is like opening a window to the world. I like that saying. May they guide you well... Hehehehe..."

The recording clicked off amidst another string of laughter.

'Just as I suspected.'

The moment he had seen the scene before him, Fu Qian had guessed he would need to use the books as stepping stones to cross. After all, there was absolutely nothing else movable in the area.

With a single sweeping glance, his analytical mind calculated that there were more than enough books to lay a path all the way to the far door.

The problem was the window. It sat a good three and a half meters off the floor. Jumping up to grab the ledge from a standstill was impossible.

'Is that why he emphasized allocating them wisely?'

Fu Qian muttered to himself.

Reaching the window would require an obvious solution: he needed to stack the books into a makeshift stepstool high enough to grab the ledge.

Factoring in his own height, a visual estimate confirmed that there were enough books to make the climb.

But that presented a dilemma. If he saved all the books to build the steps at the end, how was he supposed to cross the liquid to get there?

There was only one way to pull it off. He had to lay a path, step onto a book, and reach back to fish the previous books out of the liquid, carrying them with him until he reached the door to build his stack.

Which meant he would have to repeatedly plunge his bare hands into the corrosive liquid.

Fu Qian crouched down and extended a single finger, lightly dipping the pad into the surface of the pool.

The sharp, searing pain of a chemical burn instantly shot through his nerve endings. From that brief contact alone, the top layer of his skin had already blistered and eaten away.

'So I have to sacrifice a hand to make it?'

Fu Qian exhaled slowly. It wasn't completely unacceptable—losing a hand was still better than melting his feet off.

He could still hoist himself through the window with only one good arm.

Even after figuring out Brother Jigsaw's intention, Fu Qian was in no rush to move.

Thanks to his lightning-fast clearance of the first trap, he should still have a decent time buffer left.

Assuming there were no other hidden traps, this method practically guaranteed his survival, but severe injury would be unavoidable.

Given the unique nature of his current task, Fu Qian wanted to avoid physical damage as much as possible.

The pain or the loss of a hand was one thing, but if the system had hidden conditions that drained his sanity for getting injured, he would be at a massive disadvantage.

Rubbing his fingers over a hardcover, Fu Qian casually flipped open the top book on the stack.

It was obvious that despite their age, these books were impeccably maintained. The ones underneath seemed to be in pristine condition as well.

Unsurprisingly, the pages didn't hold a magic spell that would grant him the power of flight.

Fu Qian snapped the book shut and flipped open the next one.

'That's strange,' he thought, rotating the book in his hands.

The stack was perfectly aligned, yet this book had been placed upside down relative to the one above it.

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