Eldritch Horror Theatre

A performance was still a performance, but this time, Fu Qian chose a new narrative direction, a complete departure from his previous approach.

Faced with his unwavering stance, Dr. Cynthia simply stared at him expressionlessly, in no rush to offer an opinion.

"An interesting question."

Under her gaze, half a minute passed before Fu Qian suddenly scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain.

"Under normal circumstances, I really wouldn't ask myself that."

"...Patches?"

He paused for a few seconds, his tone finally turning somewhat hesitant.

"Meaningless stray thoughts."

As if trying to convince himself, Fu Qian even shook his head.

Even so, the smile on his face visibly vanished bit by bit.

Or rather, it transferred.

Because Dr. Cynthia clearly looked much more satisfied.

She seemed quite pleased with the shift in his demeanor.

Just as Fu Qian furrowed his brow and clenched his fists, she lifted the black cloth and covered the Guide of the Soul once more.

Fu Qian jolted in surprise, as if waking from a dream.

Looking up at Cynthia, he took a deep breath, banishing the lost, bewildered look from his face.

"It really is an interesting transcendent item. For me, it counts as a rare experience."

"Oh? Rare how?"

Cynthia remained noncommittal. She picked up a pen and paper and actually began taking notes in absolute earnest.

...

This action seemed to generate a certain amount of psychological pressure.

Fu Qian hesitated briefly before organizing his words.

"Conversing with and examining yourself from a special perspective. Though, of course, there's occasionally a bit of static."

"Understandable. And what kind of static was it?"

Cynthia asked as she continued to write.

"...Patches."

Fu Qian hesitated for a moment before finally spitting out a name.

"He called me Patches."

"Did 'he' call you that, or were you calling yourself that?"

The smile on Cynthia's face deepened.

...

"Just disordered ravings. Is there any need to distinguish?"

After a moment of thought, Fu Qian scoffed, tapping his finger against his head.

"Don't tell me you're going to say that's the true perception hidden deep within my heart?"

"Trying to make me doubt myself with this boring conjecture? You're a bit too naive."

"I am a tester. I have no pointless biases."

Faced with Fu Qian's accusation, Cynthia's smile did not fade.

"As far as I'm concerned, I only need you to answer the questions honestly."

"So I will ask again: did that name from just now feel familiar to you?"

"I hope you think carefully before answering, instead of resorting to this self-comfort born of cowardice."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You don't know? Patches should know. So think about it again."

Cynthia twirled the pen in her hand.

...

Fu Qian finally fell silent.

After a long while, he looked up and made a familiar request.

"I need to go down there one more time to confirm some things."

"I'm very glad you're beginning to recognize your true self."

Cynthia felt absolutely no guilt over thoroughly manipulating him, smiling as she jotted down another note.

"But you'll have to wait a moment. This time, you'll take the test with two other people... or should I say three? Until you confirm your true name..."

She continued her devilish whispers, watching with satisfaction as Fu Qian's expression grew even gloomier.

However, just as she called two guards over to take Fu Qian out, Cynthia's brow suddenly furrowed.

"You..."

Her expression rapidly froze. She looked Fu Qian up and down in disbelief.

"You're playing me!"

A second later, she spoke through gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you mean."

The law of conservation of smiles took effect once more as the corners of Fu Qian's mouth slowly curled up.

"You didn't hear Patches's voice at all!"

Cynthia accused fiercely.

As expected!

Facing Cynthia, whose emotions were riding a roller coaster, Fu Qian nodded inwardly in satisfaction.

Given his immunity to the Guide of the Soul's effects, he naturally hadn't heard the name Patches.

His entire performance just now had merely been a probe.

And it proved to have yielded a rich harvest.

Now, Fu Qian had a bold guess about exactly how she had confirmed he was lying.

Taking the entire process into account, his displayed perception had gone through several fluctuations.

First, he had firmly denied being cognitively affected. Next, he had doubted himself under the effects of the Guide of the Soul. Finally, after barely anchoring his perception, he had fallen into doubt once again under Cynthia's guiding hints.

The miraculous thing was that the outcome was exactly the same as last time.

When he had doubted himself while facing the Guide of the Soul, Cynthia clearly hadn't realized she was being tricked.

Yet right after that, when his hard-won mental stability wavered again because of her words, she saw through him without any warning.

And in neither instance did Fu Qian believe he had exposed any flaws in his acting.

Eliminating that possibility, the divergent-thinking Fu Qian arrived at a specific commonality: both times Cynthia had noticed the deception were when she was trying to influence him.

The first time, she had tried to make him believe that Patches was nothing more than a cognitive influence he was suffering from. The second time was the exact opposite: she had wanted him to believe that Patches was his true self.

They seemed diametrically opposed, but fundamentally, both were attempts to guide and alter his perception with her words.

And his disguises of deciding to go with the flow and pretending to be convinced by her had quickly been discovered.

In contrast, when he pretended to be misled by the Guide of the Soul, she didn't notice a thing.

The crux of the difference between the two actually lay with her—the influence Cynthia actively exerted. She would only notice immediately if she was deceived regarding that.

It sounded quite fantastical, but Fu Qian could actually think of a scenario that would make this possible.

In previous missions, he had encountered some things known as covenants.

And in those incidents, under the influence of special entities, certain conceptual things would become manifested around her—such as sin, corruption, and the like.

So, could the Nether Steed down below be something similar to the Goddess of Sins or the Angel Mirror?

Did it cause deceit, or rather the distortion of others' perceptions, to also become manifested?

Once he accepted this premise, Dr. Cynthia's reactions became very easy to understand.

If he truly believed those deliberate guiding attempts she made on him, she would receive some sort of manifested feedback.

Conversely, no matter how flawless his acting was, as long as she didn't receive that feedback, she could confirm that he was merely pretending to be fooled.

This was exactly the identification method she had said she would never reveal to him!

Besides that, there was one more point that could corroborate this judgment—it used a year as a cycle of samsara, lasting only for a short, fixed period of time.

Almost all the covenants he had encountered in the past possessed this exact trait.

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