Eldritch Horror Theatre

'This fire is toxic!'

Back in Unseen Hill, inside the exquisitely decorated carriage, Fu Qian let out a heartfelt sigh.

This mission failure had been rather bizarre.

He had operated carefully the entire way, advancing step by step. Whether from the Natives or the Hunting Squad, he had extracted the maximum amount of information.

Yet the moment he tested what seemed like the most valuable piece of intelligence, the mission instantly failed.

Looking at it that way, it was a good thing he hadn't just snatched a Flame Talisman earlier, or he probably would have been forced to restart long ago.

Peril at every step. A Grade 1 Item truly lived up to its name.

Fu Qian offered it a moment of silent praise.

Even though he had lost Sanity and been forced to restart, he never considered a failure earned through hard work to be worthless.

Besides, incorrect information was still information.

So the question was: what conclusion could be drawn from that faulty information?

...

First of all, before he touched the flame, the mission hadn't failed.

Which meant that up until that point, completion was still possible.

Even after he was forced to integrate into Unseen Hill, and the difficulty of killing the saint began to climb.

He still didn't know exactly why touching the flame caused an instant failure.

But judging purely by the results, his best option actually seemed to be the Hunting Squad's blitzkrieg strategy.

Counter speed with speed. Strike straight at the target and secure the kill while his level of corruption was at its lowest.

If necessary, he could even activate his Pseudo-God Incarnation to weaken the influence.

...

As he pondered, Fu Qian calculated the timing and shifted slightly to the side.

He still hadn't put on his mask, but this time, he moved in the exact opposite direction.

Crash!

A deafening roar followed in the next instant as a heavy GG Card plummeted from the sky, turning the luxurious carriage back into an open-air model.

"Hahaha..."

Frantic, joyful laughter rang out overhead as Brother Clown made his flashy entrance.

By the time Fu Qian tossed the GG Card aside, the clown had already taken a leap of faith, landing in a spray of fluids right in front of him.

Thanks to Fu Qian's cooperation, he hit his target dead center this time, so he didn't need to drop a second GG Card.

Of course, the scene that greeted the clown in the next moment caused his excitement to falter.

"Ballard?"

Staring at Fu Qian amid the scattered debris, the clown's confused tone carried undisguised disgust.

The reason for this reaction was simple: Fu Qian wasn't wearing his mask, but he had chosen to manifest a suit of Black Mirror Armor.

"I trust I didn't ruin your grand entrance?"

Beneath the visor, Fu Qian let out a low chuckle and threw the question back at him.

"You're not Ballard."

His hatred for the Maintainers of Order meant the clown was highly familiar with Ballard, allowing him to make the judgment instantly.

Especially since Fu Qian hadn't even bothered to mimic the voice.

"So I'm not Ballard. Does this news make you happy, or unhappy?"

Fu Qian remained noncommittal, returning the question.

"You're not Ballard, but you were waiting for me on purpose?"

Possessing no small amount of intelligence, the clown immediately grasped the implication, suspecting some sort of conspiracy.

"Waiting for me to disrupt the peace? Even letting yourself get crushed on purpose just to bring me to justice? When did this city get another champion of justice?"

"Though I must say, your style is far more flexible than Ballard's!"

"Thanks for the compliment."

Fu Qian didn't sound bothered at all by the accusation of entrapment.

"I think so too. That guy is honestly a bit boring—"

"You're the same."

Unfortunately, the clown didn't seem to appreciate the banter, coldly interrupting Fu Qian's critique.

"Even more boring, actually. Do you know why?"

"I do. You hate the feeling of everything being orchestrated."

Fu Qian nodded, repeating that classic line.

"Humanity requires chaos; otherwise, it's far too dull."

"Don't worry, you'll get it soon enough."

Before his voice faded, a black-armored hand seized the clown by the head.

"Just like you said. My methods are far more flexible than Ballard's."

As he spoke, Fu Qian crushed his fingers inward.

Fluids burst everywhere, but Fu Qian remained completely spotless. He casually tossed the clown's corpse aside.

He could see the thick black liquid he had encountered before still trying to repair the shattered skull.

Unfortunately for it, a few Air Bullets in the next second rendered the effort entirely futile.

It couldn't be helped; he was in a hurry.

Simply leaving was out of the question. A Hunting Squad was watching him from the shadows, after all.

And after that little performance, the audience had surely seen enough.

...

Standing straight, Fu Qian observed the two figures approaching, one behind the other.

It was still the baby-faced demigod Aike, along with Chaumont's puppet demigod.

The former still wore a look that said everything was under her control.

It wasn't hard to understand. His conversation with the clown just now definitely hadn't escaped their notice.

And the content clearly indicated that he was a Native demigod.

That was enough. As for whether his methods were ruthless, that meant nothing to hunters.

"Outsider?"

Of course, for Fu Qian, the difference this time was massive, because he already knew their background.

So, without any nonsense, he cut straight to the chase.

...

This fortune-teller-level deduction undoubtedly delivered a profound shock to Demigod Aike.

The smile vanished from her face. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking Fu Qian up and down.

"On your bodies..."

Yet Fu Qian's scrutinizing gaze seemed even more meticulous than hers.

"Just as I thought. Hahaha..."

In the next moment, Fu Qian let out a burst of laughter.

"It should have been this way all along. It really wasn't my imagination!"

"What do you mean?"

She had shown up fully confident in her hunt, only for the prey to suddenly go insane. More importantly, his words were growing stranger by the second. Aike could finally take no more.

"This tiresome place should have been burned to the ground long ago. Just like this carriage."

Fu Qian ignored her, continuing to vent his feelings, seemingly inheriting the clown's dying wish.

"Smooth, stable, and ceaseless. It represents the most boring side of this place..."

"What should I call you?"

Demigod Aike was clearly not one to tolerate being passive. Having been repeatedly thwarted in the conversation, she opted for a cold interrogation, her tone laced with threat.

"You're here looking for the flame, aren't you? Just like the kind on your bodies?"

Unfortunately for her, Fu Qian's next question made her pupils dilate instantly.

"Come with me. I know where to find it, in quantities far exceeding what you'll get from this hunt."

Before she could say a word, Fu Qian shook his head again.

"Alright, where is it? Can both of us come?"

Her expression stiff as a board, Aike forced a smile, pointing to the demigod puppet.

"You can all come. All four of you."

No emotion could be deciphered from Fu Qian's tone. He tapped a finger lightly against his visor, and the mirrored plates bloomed outward like a flower.

"Just call me Andiel."

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