Eldritch Horror Theatre

Whether it was a commandment or Commandment Residue, to Fu Qian, they were ultimately forms of power similar to halos.

And in this type of clash, Rank seemed to dictate everything.

Considering he was now a genuine Demigod, a bona fide Tier 3 Transcendent.

Just what level was this moon hanging overhead?

Feeling his increasingly heavy body, Fu Qian let out a heartfelt sigh.

Indeed, in Fu Qian's estimation, the source of the marks on his body and the ensuing discomfort wasn't the ubiquitous shadows, but the moon in the sky.

The reasoning was simple. First, he hadn't felt any particularly strong anomalies on his way downstairs.

If something were truly hiding in the shadows, the effects would have started then.

Instead, in just the short time he'd spent wandering the borders between light and shadow, all sorts of patterns had manifested on his body, to the point where even lifting an arm was a struggle.

Did that mean staying in the shadows would keep him safe?

It was a logical train of thought, but unfortunately, things weren't that simple.

Fu Qian had already tested it; even when he retreated into the shadows, that suppressive sluggishness didn't fade in the slightest.

In other words, even if he hid in the shadows from now on and never came out, he couldn't shake this negative effect.

How ruthless. Wasn't this welcome ceremony a bit too grand?

However, it was hard to imagine that Taylor, having lost his Nightmare Notebook, could still bust out something this brutal.

Could someone else have laid this trap?

Did a proud member of the Blood Clan really go running to confess to his family after just a few days? Did he have to give up that easily?

Regardless, he was clearly trapped here right now.

And he could well imagine that someone would come to collect their prey very soon.

The situation was dire.

Of course, the enemy certainly didn't know he had the ultimate Recall Technique, but using it would undoubtedly expose his trump card.

If prey that was already caught in a trap suddenly vanished, even an idiot would figure out he possessed some sort of teleportation escape.

The next time he returned, they might have targeted countermeasures waiting for him.

And he would have retreated without even figuring out the situation.

He couldn't accept a losing proposition like that so easily.

As for never coming back?

What a joke. He had taken over The Bookstore less than a month ago. To be slacking off midway before the venture is half done just wasn't his style.

Or maybe next time he had a mission nearby, he could slip away and wipe out the Gulade Family to solve the problem indirectly?

That was indeed a thought.

It was just a bit too indirect.

...

As he weighed the pros and cons, even yawning had become a slow-motion effort for Fu Qian.

Although he could confirm that all his abilities were still intact, this resistance originating from a higher Rank was truly hard to adapt to.

If a fight actually broke out right now, he would clearly be a sitting duck.

After pondering for a moment, Fu Qian finally reached up and took off the Emissary Mask.

As it turned out, the great Recall Technique hadn't been blocked. In the blink of an eye, the familiar Warehouse appeared before him.

The moment he escaped, Fu Qian's body felt lighter, and that bizarre sluggishness vanished into thin air.

Yet, in less than a second, he put the mask right back on without even grabbing a new item.

...

Under the bright moonlight, the shadows at the street corner stretched out long and thin.

Suddenly, a shadow squirmed. A mass of even denser darkness coalesced into a humanoid shape, the faint outline of two giant bat wings stretching out behind it.

However, before its facial features could even form, the shadowy mass abruptly burst apart.

At the exact same time, about a dozen meters away, the shadows in a corner across the street squirmed, and the identical figure appeared.

Through these short-distance leaps, it perfectly avoided the moonlight overhead.

After several consecutive jumps, the humanoid shadow closed in on the small Bookstore by the street.

This time, it didn't leap again. With a slight shudder, the silhouette of the shadow grew a bit clearer, and a pair of blood-red eyes surfaced on its face.

But just as it tried to observe the interior of The Bookstore, it froze on the spot.

The Bookstore's door was wide open, and in the empty space out front sat a Deck Chair.

The young Bookstore Owner lay upon it in an incredibly relaxed posture, gazing up at the starry sky.

Crisscrossing black patterns marred his body, even covering more than half of his face.

"What an absolute fool."

After a brief moment of shock, the black shadow muttered.

"He and that idiot Taylor are a perfect match."

...

Having delivered its critique, it seemed to come to a decision.

The next moment, the shadows beside it surged with unprecedented speed.

Silently, a black ray coalesced, shooting out from in front of it straight toward the seated Fu Qian.

Faced with this sudden attack, the young Bookstore Owner was not slow to react.

Instead of trying to dodge, Fu Qian twitched his fingers. A Crimson Long Whip tore through the air to intercept the ray.

The moment they collided, the black ray was instantly shattered, producing a soundless explosion.

Yet, behaving like a tangible substance, the shattered ray didn't vanish. Instead, its remnants drifted outward, forming a slightly thinner cloud of darkness around him.

An instant later, a massive, razor-sharp claw thrust out from the darkness, enveloping Fu Qian's entire upper body in its strike.

Under the force of this brutal blow, the Deck Chair beneath Fu Qian shattered, and he tumbled downward.

Blood splattered, but the sudden drop in height allowed Fu Qian to barely evade a fatal hit.

However, it was far from over. Another claw followed like a shadow.

Compared to the first, this claw was noticeably more solid.

Its nails, sharp as Daggers, were almost transparent under the moonlight. Plunging from above with terrifying momentum, they threatened to pin Fu Qian dead to the ground.

"You came?"

Right at this critical juncture, Fu Qian suddenly spoke from the ground.

At the exact same moment, an appallingly massive fist slammed directly into the incoming claw.

Crack!

The sickening crunch of snapping bones was almost audible.

The mangled claw retracted instantly, retreating even faster than it had struck, while the figure's body rapidly turned ethereal.

"Why the rush to leave?"

Unfortunately for it, Fu Qian's movements were even swifter. He took a step forward as dozens of writhing tentacles erupted from his right hand.

Amidst a groan of pain, a torrent of blood and flesh finally sprayed out.

The half-ethereal body hadn't provided the expected damage reduction at all. Unable to even maintain its form, it tumbled heavily to the ground.

"What should I call you?"

The dozens of tentacles wove together into a cage, trapping the injured enemy and hoisting it into the air as Fu Qian asked with genuine curiosity.

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