Eldritch Horror Theatre

"It was alright."

Looking at the smug, bizarre face beneath Marco's hood, Fu Qian gave a noncommittal response.

Obviously, the two guys who had trailed him weren't out to rob him; they had been hired.

This wasn't entirely unexpected. He had encountered a similar situation on his way to the Old Theological College earlier and had wondered about it.

It couldn't be such a coincidence that two consecutive groups were interested in the old man.

In fact, this was exactly why Fu Qian had chosen to lead them all the way here after noticing it again.

However, the fact that Marco was the mastermind was still a bit shocking—and a pain in the ass.

Given the man's previous behavior, Fu Qian could roughly guess his motive.

"You do look pretty good. Did Raven Feather heal you already? I was wondering if it would affect your movement."

Frankly, when the man wasn't emoting, he looked relatively human.

Unfortunately, whenever he moved, it was easy to suspect that something else was hiding beneath that human skin.

"Don't worry, it's a piece of cake."

Fu Qian's tone brimmed with confidence.

"Not only did I scout the area, but I even soaked in a good bit of art."

"You mean the Phoenix Palace?"

Marco's smile grew even more exaggerated.

"I suspect you went somewhere else besides there, didn't you?"

"Oh? Where?"

'Courting death, yet still playing dumb.'

Seeing this, Marco sneered.

"The Old Theological College. Do I need to remind you further?"

"Can you tell me, after confirming the operation plan, what was your goal in running off to a place heavily guarded by the Night Watchers?"

"You..."

A hint of shock finally seeped into Fu Qian's tone.

"That's way too unprofessional!"

"Staring at a colleague the whole time—did you even do your own job? Your work attitude is a huge prob—"

Whoosh!

Before Fu Qian could finish, a black shadow suddenly whipped past his face with fierce momentum.

He barely tilted his head in time to keep the mask on his face from being knocked off.

'Now this is a bit interesting.'

Fu Qian saw it very clearly. The object that had lashed out was a powerful long whip, as thick as an arm—well, because it was literally a transformed arm.

This Tier 4 Transcendent of the Origin Council was actually a flesh-power fighter as well.

Appraising the slowly retracting whip that had missed its mark, Fu Qian felt a sudden sense of familiarity.

"Are you really that reluctant to take off your mask?"

Marco didn't seem too disappointed, merely continuing his bizarre chuckles.

"I knew there was something wrong with you."

"Hunted by the Night Watchers, forced to activate the Divine Blood Curse, a mask that can block prying eyes, and you even made up a Demigod Will living inside it..."

"Lies full of holes like these might fool others, but did you think you could fool me?"

"You aren't Camus at all. You're an undercover agent sent by the Night Watchers. Camus probably died by your hands long ago and was forced to confess a few things."

By the end of his speech, Marco was radiating killing intent.

"Sorry to interrupt."

Fu Qian's tone was laced with shock.

"So, are you trying to avenge a colleague?"

"Avenge him? Haha... are you kidding me!"

Marco let out another weird laugh.

"Trust me, no one is happier to see that piece of trash dead than I am, but that doesn't mean I have a good impression of you."

"In fact, the vibe you give off is even more obnoxious than his!"

"Do you know how I confirmed your itinerary? It couldn't be simpler—I just spent a little money."

Seeing Fu Qian remain silent, Marco looked smug and pointed in the direction where the two energetic young men had left.

"I found a bunch of idle youths. For just a tiny price, they were more than happy to earn some extra cash."

"Then, by putting the pieces together, it was easy to figure out your route."

"Sometimes, ordinary people are much more useful than transcendents."

"So you're planning to capture me all by yourself now? Isn't that a bit too risky? After all, the Night Watchers have an excessive amount of manpower right now. I might just be some demigod in disguise."

Fu Qian nodded repeatedly as he listened.

"Stop making an empty show of strength! Having a demigod deliberately infect themselves with the Divine Blood Curse just for a little intel? No matter how strong the Night Watchers are, they wouldn't be that extravagant."

"And beneath the demigod level, I don't believe I'd lose to anyone. Speaking of which, you picked quite a nice spot for yourself."

Marco surveyed their surroundings while the body beneath his clothes began to violently ripple and bulge.

"I'm actually a little grateful to you. After all, I've always wanted to kill Camus with my own hands. Since I didn't get the chance, killing a fake isn't bad either."

'What the hell is all this?'

Listening to Marco's death declaration, Fu Qian rubbed his temples, looking at the man's face, which seemed to have countless tiny worms squirming beneath the skin.

Facts proved that it wasn't just lust that messed with your head; having any kind of bug in your brain would seriously impair your intelligence.

"Do you play video games?"

The next moment, Fu Qian suddenly asked a question.

'What?'

"In some games, there are often various factions. When you take action, you need to comprehensively analyze the pros and cons, carefully maintain a balance between them, and ultimately maximize your gains, just like walking a tightrope."

"What do you mean?"

Marco, who had been on full alert, was momentarily confused.

"You really don't play? To be fair, it's actually quite fun."

Fu Qian didn't answer him, instead shaking his head as he continued.

"But there's a certain phenomenon. When you brave dangers alone, charging in and out, relying on a task runner's wisdom to brilliantly maintain that balance and ultimately wrap up a highly rewarding day, it often breeds a special kind of irritation."

"This irritation brings an urge to shove all their faces into the mud because you just can't be bothered to listen to their nonsense."

"And right at that moment, a monster with a glowing Health Bar suddenly spawns in front of you without a word. Imagine that feeling..."

Fu Qian's tone was already somewhat intoxicated.

"It even specially followed you to a place where it wouldn't alert the guards before making its move."

"Die!"

Although it sounded like absolute gibberish to him, Fu Qian's tone successfully made Marco's face twitch repeatedly. He didn't want to let this guy speak for even another second.

Amid a howling wind, both of his hands extended into whips. With an imposing momentum even greater than before, they lashed out, one after the other.

Just as the attack was about to hit Fu Qian, a bloody light flashed. The fingernails from every finger detached and flew out, slicing toward Fu Qian's entire body from all directions.

'A bit interesting!'

Facing such a fierce attack, Fu Qian twisted his body rapidly, dodging continuously with impossible movements. At the same time, he flicked his fingers, firing off several Air Bullets that howled through the air.

This display clearly shocked Marco, but the resulting sense of crisis only made his emotions even more unstable.

The next moment, the bizarre squirming beneath his skin intensified to the extreme, successfully finding an outlet through the wounds left by his detached fingernails.

With a teeth-aching tearing sound, ten long whips formed from twisted red leeches instantly enveloped Fu Qian.

'That's it? And here I thought I could learn something interesting!'

Witnessing this scene, Fu Qian couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment.

'This is your ultimate move? How is this any different from a bug spewing its innards?'

'Putting aside the power, the visual effects are nowhere near mine.'

"What the hell are you—"

The next moment, amidst Marco's absolute terror, a gigantic arm made of countless black and red tentacles explosively burst forth.

His proud, tyrannical flesh was like paper before such an impact, instantly disintegrating. Within seconds, not a single piece larger than a fingernail could be found.

And once the dust settled, Fu Qian, having done all this, scoffed and gazed up at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle.

'How clever can a beast's trickery be, it only adds to the laughter!'

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