Eldritch Horror Theatre

Marco had clearly opted for the safer confines of Cross Square once again.

And without a doubt, Cross Square was once again unsafe.

"Camus..."

Shock, incomprehension, confusion, and worry—in that instant, Fu Qian heard a multitude of complex emotions in Marco's exclamation.

"Camus Greda."

Fu Qian slowly slipped his mask back on and supplied the full name.

"How is it you? Why are you here? And this look..."

Marco practically gritted his teeth as he spoke, keeping a vigilant distance.

"This?"

The power he had acquired from Camus via Insight hadn't faded yet.

"It really is you... but shouldn't you be—"

Marco clearly recognized the ability of a colleague he had always despised, and his tone instantly grew heavier.

"Dead at the hands of the Night Watchers, right?"

Fu Qian cut him off with a cold sneer.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm not quite that stupid. I can easily imagine that being your fate, though."

"...What do you mean?"

Fu Qian's words had obviously struck a sensitive nerve. Marco asked the question with intense wariness.

"I'm under no obligation to tell you."

Fu Qian bluntly refused to answer.

"So this bizarre outfit... that really was you at the Old Theological College earlier? What are you investigating?"

Trench Coat Guy really hadn't disappointed.

The moment Marco voiced his new question, Fu Qian mentally gave Trench Coat Guy a thumbs-up.

There was only one way Marco could know about that—from Ariel. Trench Coat Guy had clearly delivered the message.

The fact that Marco had chased him down just now proved exactly that.

"Like I said, I'm under no obligation to answer your questions."

Fu Qian scoffed again.

"Or were you thinking of trying to drag me back? While I admire your stupidity, I can only advise you not to get too close, or you'll die a very ugly death."

"There's a problem with this plan, isn't there?"

Marco no longer carried the aggressive bearing he had shown upon arriving. After a few seconds of silence, he spat out the question with a conflicted expression.

"There's no problem. What could possibly be wrong?"

Fu Qian smiled eerily.

"Look at you, aren't you doing just fine right now?"

Even with Camus failing to show up on time, this guy had still been let out to operate, proving he was nothing but cannon fodder in their plan.

It wasn't even out of the question that Wehle and the others had let him out specifically to test the waters.

But that didn't matter. This was now a game of chicken, and he was more than happy to accept their little probe.

"...All I can say is, you've become even more insufferable than before."

Fu Qian's words successfully made Marco's eyelids twitch. The man gave up on talking. He stepped forward, planting himself directly in Fu Qian's path.

"You had better spit out everything you know."

Beneath his clothes, his body began to writhe in a bizarre manner.

"Otherwise, you're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"If we get into a brawl and make a scene, the Night Watchers will be here in no time, and we'll both end up dead."

"...Do you know about the Rebirth Club?"

Fu Qian stared at him for a long time before nodding.

"I know..."

Marco's eyes flickered. This information, already corroborated by Ariel, clearly deepened his interest in what Fu Qian had to say.

He firmly believed that his threats had done the trick.

"Then you can die without regrets."

Yet the words that reached his ears a second later made his brain short-circuit for a split second.

An omen of extreme danger flared in his chest. Marco was horrified to discover that dodging from this distance was impossible.

He reflexively threw his hands up to block while desperately trying to evade, but a ferocious, massive claw tore straight through all defenses. It ripped apart the formidable physique he was so proud of and crushed his head to pulp.

The headless corpse didn't fall right away. Instead, it writhed in place, masses of tissue weaving and swelling from the stump of its neck—only to be blasted to dust a split second later.

Hmph! Daring to show off such an insignificant skill in front of me.

Fu Qian blew on his fingertips, patted down the thoroughly dead corpse, and fished out a grayish-black Talisman.

Just as he thought, it was here.

Pocketing his second Talisman, Fu Qian left the scene of the crime without lingering.

Since I've taken your relics, I might as well take on your karma.

Like going to the location you chose for your operation and buying some cornbread.

He didn't actually have any grudge against Marco; this move was simply called applying maximum pressure.

Now that both high-level pieces of cannon fodder had been wiped out, if this guy had genuinely been sent out to test the waters, then this was his response.

Next, whether Wehle's group completely abandoned their plan under this pressure or split their forces would come down entirely to their judgment.

However, considering they had the highly goal-oriented Ariel among them, Fu Qian was quite confident in the outcome.

...

Sure enough, villains were always relentlessly persistent. Wehle and the others most likely hadn't given up on their operation.

After polishing off two servings of cornbread without receiving a mission failure notification, Fu Qian nodded in deep satisfaction.

After all, if that group had decidedly scrapped their plan, the Tide of Clamor probably wouldn't be able to form, and his own mission would be guaranteed to fail.

But as things stood, the looming pressure that the other two Horn locations might spiral out of control had been pushed to the absolute limit.

While ensuring that Hamadus was still summoned, the chances of having to fight a one-versus-three battle had been compressed to the absolute minimum. Now, all he had to do was wait for the flowers to bloom.

...

If it weren't for the mission, this would actually be a pretty nice place to relax.

Inside a small seaside bar, Fu Qian stood in the corner, holding a plate and gnawing on some crackers.

The reason he was standing, naturally, was because his table had long since been toppled by the partying crowd.

With night just beginning to fall, the bar owner showed a rare tolerance for the chaos, letting the crowd fool around and even clearing out a spot specifically for them.

Using the extra time his mission afforded him, Fu Qian leisurely soaked in the festival atmosphere, returning to this seaside bar right before the crucial moment arrived.

He couldn't help it; his eye for scouting was just that sharp. Even on a second sweep, he couldn't find a better vantage point.

By now, a clamor was rising across the entire pier, and the flashing colored lights of parade floats could be seen in the distance.

It seemed as though nothing had changed, yet everything had changed.

Watching the Veil Sisters stroll past outside, walking right by Frank and his three distinctly happier companions, Fu Qian set his empty plate on the counter and put on his mask once more.

Only this time, the outermost layer wasn't an exquisitely decorated carnival mask, but rather the towering Iron Cage.

Clack!

Amid the sound of the Iron Cage locking into place, Fu Qian merged into the flow of the crowd, his unique getup drawing a wave of positive attention.

The Lighthouse wasn't far away, and the scene atop it was already clearly visible.

The prominent figures of Dunis were gathered together, including the white-haired Count Valentin.

Only this time, Wehle was noticeably absent from his side.

Not bad. At least for now, today was turning out to be an even better day.

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