Eldritch Horror Theatre

Inside a mansion on the outskirts of West Plain City.

Boom!

Amid the deafening blast, Fu Qian skidded to a halt, dodging the incoming shockwave.

A split second later, a straight trench opened at his feet, easily waist-deep.

The mansion living room's high-end wooden flooring was instantly torn to shreds.

"Ill Omen! I've been waiting for you!"

A furious, full-throated roar bellowed from ahead.

"It won't be that easy to kill me!"

This guy's got some spirit!

This was the seventh target he had tracked down along the way—a Tier 8 transcendent.

Just as he had expected, Ill Omen wasn't wasting any time.

After leaving the Huang Family, Ill Omen had used that brief window to go on an unrelenting killing spree across West Plain City, working with absurd efficiency.

Along the way, he had already stumbled upon several corpses left lying exactly where they fell.

The problem was that these transcendents were like wild animals in a forest—they had an unspoken agreement to keep their distance from one another when choosing where to live.

This meant they were scattered loosely across every district in West Plain City.

Tracking the killer down along his planned route had taken a considerable amount of time.

Swiftness was precious in warfare.

Confirming this man was still alive, Fu Qian turned to leave without a word.

But the next moment, heavy thuds echoed through the room as thick steel plates dropped over the doors and windows, sealing the house tight.

A booming laugh rang out behind him.

"Since you're already here, don't think you can leave so easily!"

...

Your will to live is a bit on the strong side!

Looking at the tightly sealed steel plates, Fu Qian offered a silent word of praise.

This sort of setup obviously couldn't have been installed on short notice. It was likely the man's standard security measure, not something prepared specifically for Ill Omen.

His courage was commendable. Not only had he taken precautions well in advance, but he was even daring enough to mount a counterattack.

By now, the booming roared to life once more behind him, and the ground beneath his feet crumbled like quicksand.

Darting diagonally out of the way again, Fu Qian looked back at target number seven, the Tier 8 Brother.

He had a dark complexion, exaggerated pectoral muscles, and a tank top stretched completely out of shape.

So this was the legendary build: eight feet tall and eight feet around the waist!

For a fleeting second, he almost thought Captain Gu had ascended.

Right now, the Tier 8 Brother wore a savage grin. In his right hand, he hefted an incredibly heavy-looking Great Hammer that perfectly complemented his massive frame.

Every time that hammer struck the floor, its crushing weight channeled into the ground, blasting open a long trench.

It looked intimidating, but the guy had better pray there weren't any fiber-optic cables running beneath his feet.

"Satisfied with the venue?"

The Tier 8 Brother looked incredibly smug. He pounded the hammer against the floor with loud clangs, sending tremors through the entire house.

"I don't care if you're some transcendent-killer. This is my home turf now."

He wasn't wrong. In a sealed environment like this, a strength-based fighter definitely held the advantage.

The weapon in his hand clearly wasn't anything ordinary either. With that combination, an average Tier 7 would likely struggle to fend him off.

How many traps had Ill Omen laid for him by now?

That guy's survival instincts were truly miraculous.

Every time Fu Qian felt like he was about to catch up, the killer's trail would lead him to places exactly like this.

They always contained traps originally meant for the killer, stalling Fu Qian and buying Ill Omen a little more time.

Seeing Fu Qian stay silent, the Tier 8 Brother let out a cold snort and dispensed with the idle chatter.

He hoisted the heavy hammer high and smashed it down, tearing open an even larger trench with a deafening boom.

At the same time, gripping the hammer tightly, he charged forward along the newly formed fissure.

Faced with this ferocious assault, Fu Qian showed no intention of dodging.

When the Tier 8 Brother was halfway through his charge and swinging the hammer straight at him, Fu Qian suddenly threw a punch with his right hand.

Mid-swing, his arm abruptly elongated by half its length. He clamped his hand around the man's thick neck and slammed him directly into the wall.

Between the Tier 8 Brother's own momentum and the force of the slam, the entire room shuddered. The impact was severe.

Clang!

The hammer crashed to the floor, cratering the ground.

"Understand?"

Three seconds later, Fu Qian stared into the Tier 8 Brother's bulging, cowbell-sized eyes.

"Under... understood."

Caught in Fu Qian's demonic grip, the Tier 8 Brother's neck was nearly snapped. His face flushed beet red as he nodded frantically.

The fact that this intruder had caught him but spared his life was proof enough that he wasn't that lunatic Ill Omen. He had attacked the wrong guy.

"Open the doors."

"Right away."

The Tier 8 Brother was quite good at reading the room. Not daring to say another word, he groped around his body and found the control switch.

With a rumble, the steel plates sealing the exterior of the house slowly lifted.

Fu Qian tossed the man onto the floor and leaped outside in a single stride.

Before leaving, he took one last pointed look at the setup.

These steel plates must be two centimeters thick. Just how afraid of dying are you?

...

It had delayed him a little, but it wasn't a big deal.

Fu Qian oriented himself, quickly reviewing the map of the city in his mind.

Even with beast-like danger intuition, killing people still took time.

Despite these minor interruptions, Fu Qian was absolutely certain he was closing in on Ill Omen.

Crucially, the transcendents in West Plain City were mostly average in strength, largely hovering around Tier 8 or Tier 9.

Ill Omen still needed several more sacrifices to complete his ritual.

Following the trail, Fu Qian soon arrived at the location of the next target.

This person clearly hadn't possessed the same level of crisis awareness as the Tier 8 Brother, and was now as dead as one could be.

Blood stained the bedding. Not only had the victim been decapitated, but both of their eyeballs were missing.

Judging from the scene, the victim had been killed in their sleep.

Speaking of which, Fu Qian actually found this a bit strange.

Almost all the transcendents who had died earlier were just like this one—killed while in the middle of everyday activities.

Sleeping, taking a shower, or even wearing a face mask—they were struck down in a single blow while completely off guard.

Ill Omen had slaughtered them as easily as harvesting crops. From start to finish, each kill couldn't have taken more than a minute.

Once or twice was understandable, but happening this many times couldn't just be a coincidence.

It seemed the blessing Ill Omen had received granted him more than just an intuition for danger.

Deep in thought, Fu Qian didn't stop moving. In his perception, Ill Omen's aura was growing clearer and clearer.

Wait a minute. Fu Qian frowned as he recognized a building not too far away.

A three-story building with a red exterior. He had been sleeping there not long ago.

Ill Omen really is audacious, to actually dare attack the Night Watchers Base directly?

Then again, the Night Watchers squad in West Plain City really is incompetent.

I just hope those three are together right now so they don't die too easily.

Without hesitation, Fu Qian kicked the front doors open, only to be met with a ruined living room.

Amid the blood pooled all over the floor, a figure sat in the center of the hall, covered in wounds.

Beside him, a Tree of Flesh and Blood stood planted at an angle. Judging by the broken limbs swaying upon its branches, it was made of three people.

"You're here?"

The figure let out a hoarse laugh.

"I'm here."

Fu Qian nodded and stepped inside.

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