Eldritch Horror Theatre

It wasn't impossible!

What was the point of doing evil if you didn't get caught?

Faced with Brother Clown's abnormal state, Fu Qian increasingly felt his theory was plausible.

Wait a minute, how was he able to profile such a twisted mentality so naturally?

But at the same time, Fu Qian realized another issue, prompting a moment of deep soul-searching.

Of course, it only took him half a second to chalk it up to an exceptional imagination.

As for why the clown hadn't recognized him until now, despite them sitting face-to-face, the reason was simple—

After showing his face to both major factions, Fu Qian had decisively put on the Pope-Bestowed Mask and even changed his clothes, completing a low-key transformation.

After all, even though he had yet to find the flame he needed to extinguish, he had already ignited a different kind of fire.

...

"People who hide behind masks are often cold-blooded cowards."

Right at that moment, however, the clown finally glanced in his direction.

After a brief stare, the man delivered this hoarse critique.

It was obvious he still hadn't recognized Fu Qian, but he clearly took issue with the mask on his face.

A guy with a painted face had the nerve to say that!

"Why is that?"

Despite mocking him inwardly, Fu Qian asked without batting an eye.

"Showing your true face proves you at least have the courage to accept being despised, rather than just hiding in secret jealousy."

The clown answered slowly. He sounded as if life had lost all meaning, and he had achieved complete enlightenment as a result.

"Makes sense."

Fu Qian nodded.

"Then here's a question. If someone rips their own face off and puts it back on as a mask, does that make them a coward or a brave man?"

"...An interesting thought."

The clown froze for a moment. Finally taking Fu Qian seriously, he looked him up and down, seemingly quite intrigued by the idea.

This nobody—someone he could crush with a single finger—had actually proposed a surprisingly delightful suggestion.

"As for the answer, we won't know until we try."

As he spoke, he stretched his lips into an exaggerated expression.

The next moment, he shockingly flicked a dagger out from his sleeve, sparking a wave of screams.

Besides the two of them, the other passengers desperately shrank into the corners of the carriage. Some even pounded frantically on the walls to signal the driver to stop.

The clown acted as if he hadn't noticed the chaos at all. He simply pressed the dagger to his own face.

The cold weapon—shaped like a curved claw, serrated on the back, and bearing a razor-sharp edge—easily sliced through his cheek.

Over the next minute or so, he meticulously peeled off his facial skin bit by bit.

It was evident that the clown was moving with extreme caution, striving to keep the skin as intact as possible.

Not bad craftsmanship.

Having observed the entire process, Fu Qian gave the man's technique a solid stamp of approval.

By now, the carriage had stopped. The other passengers in the cabin had long since fled through whatever means possible.

The clown clearly couldn't care less. Once his great work was finished, he proudly shook his prize in front of Fu Qian.

Before Fu Qian could even comment, he carefully plastered it right back onto his face.

"How does it feel?"

His voice was unavoidably distorted.

"You're asking a masked coward how it feels?"

Despite studying him intently, Fu Qian couldn't help but point out the contradiction in the clown's logic.

As for whether the man would live or die, that wasn't even a concern.

For a guy who could jump off a roof and splatter everywhere without dying, the chances of this little injury killing him were practically zero.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that question?"

"You're right..."

The clown slowly caressed his face. Finding the corners of his mouth, he used two fingers to prop them up into a smile.

"The answer is... marvelous."

"Thank you for the fascinating idea... Do you have any other suggestions?"

"I do."

Fu Qian answered without missing a beat, promptly pointing in a certain direction.

"There's a good show to watch over there, along with a group of cowards."

He was pointing in the exact direction the target had been when the first Thread of Attachment was severed.

In fact, Fu Qian was currently heading there.

Even though some time had passed and Echo's group had just finished their crime—meaning they logically should have relocated quickly—Fu Qian still chose to go.

"Over there?"

The clown looked in that direction, thoughtfully tapping the bloodstained dagger against his chin.

It was so blatant that he couldn't possibly miss the fact that this person was using him.

The guy in front of him clearly had an ulterior motive.

But so what? It didn't matter.

"The driver ran off. Do you know how to drive a carriage?"

A few seconds later, he looked at Fu Qian and asked.

"I've practiced."

Fu Qian nodded, completely obliging.

He wasn't lying. Of course, his training grounds had been in a certain wild west.

...

"Compared to those idiots, you certainly are an interesting character."

After that minor interruption, the carriage was traveling smoothly once more.

The clown peered through the window, studying Fu Qian's driving, looking very satisfied.

"Why do you call them idiots?"

Sitting up front and effortlessly steering the horses, Fu Qian spoke in a casual, conversational tone.

"Living such dull, boring lives—how are they anything but idiots?"

The clown let out a low chuckle.

"I'm actually a bit surprised that someone like you doesn't feel the same way."

"Can't help it. I'm not familiar with them."

...

There was no doubt that Fu Qian's words carried a massive amount of information. Even the clown fell into a brief silence.

"An outsider?"

"Yeah, can't you tell?"

"Not obviously. After all, generally speaking, outsiders are even more boring."

The implication being that they weren't as mentally unhinged as he was, right?

Fu Qian's reading comprehension had always been formidable, but he didn't harbor any negative feelings over it.

He was adapting to local customs, after all. This just proved he was doing a good job of it.

"So, you often run into outsiders?"

"How could I always be that lucky?"

The clown laughed again.

"Even though outsiders are more boring, when two different kinds of boredom clash, they can occasionally spark a novel flavor."

"Then it's your lucky day."

His line of thought wasn't entirely unexpected. Fu Qian gave his immediate assessment.

"So the group of cowards you mentioned... are they outsiders too?"

The clown instantly caught on to his meaning.

"Then your attitude is a bit strange. Do you have some kind of conflict with them?"

"I do."

Fu Qian answered decisively.

"After you left, they had an issue with my convertible carriage."

...

"You were the guy in that carriage?"

Finally realizing what was going on, the clown leaned halfway out of the cabin, staring at Fu Qian's back, his dagger glinting with a cold light.

"Yep."

Seemingly oblivious to the threat, Fu Qian even nodded.

"So, why do you hate carriages?"

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