Eldritch Horror Theatre

"What's going on? Did I fall asleep?"

"Where is this? Hey, don't touch me!"

"How did I end up at the Police Department?"

"What? Of course I remember what I did. Is drinking coffee a crime?"

"...Dancing in a Cafe isn't a crime either, is it?"

"The table... yeah, I guess that did happen."

"I'm sorry, it was my fault..."

"I apologize, but I don't have the money to pay the Cafe back..."

...

Lurking inside the purple-haired young man in a specialized parasitic state, Fu Qian leisurely sifted through streams of information.

He was currently undergoing an entirely unprecedented experience.

It was completely different from the possession he had imagined. To Fu Qian, it felt more like hibernating deep within the host's soul.

His five senses were suppressed to their absolute limits, leaving him virtually unable to perceive the outside world.

Even the words he had just heard were merely fragments surfacing in his mind, rather than actual auditory input.

If he wished, Fu Qian could use his consciousness to tap into these sensory fragments from the host and experience them directly.

This was why he only heard a single voice—that of his victim, the purple-haired guy.

Because to the purple-haired guy, his own words were the strongest sensory fragments being generated.

...

Playing parasite was genuinely boring. Fortunately, he had always been a man of few desires.

Besides, even those scattered conversational fragments were enough to piece together some context.

First, the purple-haired guy had undoubtedly been hauled to the Police Department after falling asleep.

Calculating the time, it seemed Old Man Camus had guessed right. The Night Watchers had locked onto him long ago.

They had arrived not long after Fu Qian completed his parasitism.

The reasoning was simple: given the purple-haired guy's previous hyperactive state, falling asleep naturally that quickly was virtually impossible.

Not to mention that his mind was completely clear upon waking, showing no signs of post-adrenaline lethargy.

Undoubtedly, a transcendent had arrived, handled the situation, and conveniently pacified the kid's mind.

Combined with Old Man Camus's intelligence, this meant the Origin Council was planning a major operation in Dunis.

Meanwhile, the Night Watchers were on high alert, waiting for them.

He had clearly stumbled into a shadow war between two major factions. He would have to be increasingly cautious from here on out.

This was exactly why Fu Qian was keeping such a low profile.

In truth, he could easily deepen his control over the purple-haired guy to harvest more information, but he chose not to.

As Old Man Camus's personal method for evading pursuit, this parasitic state was undeniably stealthy—stealthy enough that Fu Qian was confident it could fool the Night Watchers.

However, according to the feedback from Insight, increasing control over the host would inevitably bleed his own will into the vessel, massively raising the risk of exposure.

The rule of thumb held true: when you observe someone, you increase the probability of them observing you.

And even though it sounded like they were in an ordinary Police Department, he didn't believe for a second that the Night Watchers targeting Camus would lack detection methods.

Perhaps they had deliberately created this seemingly safe environment just to lure the snake out of its hole.

Thus, Fu Qian displayed absolute patience, retracting his presence to the limit and sealing himself entirely inside his own dark mental room.

...

"When exactly can I leave?"

"I can leave if I pay? But I don't have any money!"

"Those three don't have money either."

"Actually, I feel like today has been really weird. I suspect the boss slipped stimulants into the coffee to extort us. I should be demanding compensation!"

"So you guys need to arrest him first... Oh, you already did?"

"Look, the boss already said it. Let's both take a step back and drop the charges."

"Can I go now?"

"Still no? Are you guys completely unreasonable?"

"I'm sorry, I really was wrong..."

...

Even the Cafe boss was locked up here with them?

Just as expected. On the surface, this was about cracking down on public disturbances, but in reality, they just wanted to keep the group under surveillance.

Still lurking, Fu Qian analyzed the purple-haired guy's statements, feeling highly satisfied with his own caution.

He could practically confirm that Night Watchers were staking out the room, just waiting for this group of victims to display abnormal behavior.

This was undoubtedly a contest of patience.

...

"Frank."

"Twenty-three years old."

"I'm from Rialto next door, just arrived today."

"Yes, we came here to attend the Clamor Festival."

"Right, right, right. I know it's wrong to scream and shout randomly before tomorrow night."

"...I'm sorry, I really don't have the money to pay the fine. We even hitchhiked just to get here."

...

Hmm?

From what followed, it was clear that the still-detained purple-haired guy had undergone a rapid attitude adjustment after realizing his predicament. He was now answering questions with impeccable politeness.

And from his answers, Fu Qian caught an interesting term.

Clamor Festival?

There was actually a specific festival for this? A day dedicated to screaming and shouting?

And it was clearly famous enough to draw in tourists from out of town.

Fu Qian vividly remembered his mission requirement: utterly annihilate Hamadus before the Clamor subsided.

No matter how he looked at it, this had to be connected to the Clamor Festival. Not to mention, the name this guy had been screaming earlier was Hamadus.

Sure enough, patience paid off. The pieces were falling into place.

...

"We can really leave now?"

"Great, thank you so much."

"Ah? If we haven't left Dunis by tomorrow, we have to come back here at noon?"

"No, no, I don't have a problem with that!"

...

"Finally out."

"What do you mean? Why are you blaming it all on me? Weren't you the ones who said we needed to relax when we came out to play? Besides, didn't you guys get on the tables too?"

"I was the first, sure, but the problem is I don't even know why I suddenly got so excited."

"You are..."

"Did you see the old man drinking coffee... Wait, who are you? Do I know you?"

"Why did they fall asleep again?"

"I'm sorry, I was wrong... Now that I think about it, there seemed to be a guy like that, but I really don't know where he went..."

...

Following that final apology, Fu Qian realized his parasitic host hadn't made another sound for a long time.

After such a turbulent day, Frank seemed heavily traumatized, sinking into a prolonged silence.

That should be long enough.

In the quiet, the hibernating Fu Qian stirred his consciousness, letting his perception spread outward just a fraction.

Quickly, through something akin to a second-person perspective, he regained access to sight.

The first thing to enter his field of vision was the dividing line between the sky and the sea in the distance.

Beneath him sat a curved coastal embankment. Three people were slumped in sleep on a faded bench.

The only one still conscious was Frank, who sat hugging his knees, staring blankly at a departing figure in the distance and deeply questioning his life choices.

(End of Chapter)

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