Eldritch Horror Theatre

"With all due respect, that doesn't sound any different. Do I even have to gamble on whether Rebirth is possible?"

After listening to Yuan Fang explain the two options, Fu Qian commented with a fake smile.

"Spot on. But do you know what's even more correct?"

Yuan Fang didn't deny it; he even laughed quite heartily.

"What is it?"

"That your opinion still doesn't matter. The whole point of this meeting is simply for me to convey this choice to you. The future I've foreseen is limited to exactly this."

In both tone and expression, Charlatan Yuan looked utterly punchable.

'Is this your answer? You want me to empathize with your predicament?'

Fu Qian ignored the guy, instead studying the darkness with a contemplative, unfazed look.

...

Just as he had noted earlier, no matter how highly Prophet Yuan thought of himself, his only value to Fu Qian was as an oscilloscope.

So at this moment, even though his excuse for making this special trip sounded perfectly natural, Fu Qian's first reaction was still to treat it as feedback from a patient.

For example, the urge that drove him here for this "limited" meeting felt like someone's subconscious rebuttal: faced with a doomed future, why wouldn't they start doubting their original self?

It was indeed a difficult question to answer.

That wasn't surprising. If it weren't, how could it possibly trouble a Higher Existence?

Fu Qian sighed inwardly.

But it didn't matter. To a doctor, even the worst feedback was good news. Communication was the first step toward solving the problem.

He could even give her the answer to this question right now.

"Name, age, and how long have these symptoms lasted?"

The next moment, Fu Qian looked at Yuan Fang, seamlessly transitioning into the four diagnostic methods of looking, smelling, questioning, and pulse-feeling.

'What is that supposed to mean...?'

Clearly, the latter completely failed to comprehend his words and actions.

"Your condition is a bit serious. You need to actively cooperate with the treatment."

Fortunately, Fu Qian hadn't expected him to understand anyway. He just kept talking to himself.

'As if.'

'Let me teach you how a real man handles things when pushed to the brink.'

'This is what it means to be immune to seduction, immune to coercion, completely unyielding, and impervious to both the carrot and the stick.'

'Faced with a seemingly hopeless future, you never easily deny yourself; you put every ounce of effort into finding an opening.'

"Playing dumb is entirely meaningless."

Prophet Yuan, who had been riding high on his own arrogance, clearly couldn't stomach this. His brow furrowed visibly.

As he spoke, he even casually dispelled the Mind Space.

'Sure enough, his words and actions align perfectly. The message has been delivered, and he couldn't care less about my reaction.'

...

"There is a question I need to confirm first. In those beautiful futures of infinite possibilities you've seen, is there one where I rise from the dead or even leave this place?"

Now that their private meeting had ended, Fu Qian's question seemed much more normal.

"This..."

Faced with Fu Qian's incomprehensible rapid flip-flopping, Yuan Fang was visibly stunned. After a moment of silence, he spoke slowly.

"It's fascinating. Before you asked this question, I wouldn't have even been able to answer you..."

"But just now, I truly saw a future like that. I even saw your true name."

"You even know that? So, what is my real name?"

Fu Qian blinked and asked casually.

"There's no need to test me. I am merely a spectator relaying the future, Ji Feng... Mister Ji."

Yuan Fang sneered, oozing absolute pretension.

...

'Ji Feng? That name...'

'After so many years and so much hardship, has the young man chosen to believe in the light once again?'

In that instant, Fu Qian paid no attention to the sharp, triumphant look on Yuan Fang's face. Instead, he let out a long sigh, immensely comforted.

Admittedly, due to the unique nature of the Unseen Hill, it was hard to say for certain that ending his own life would guarantee a failed mission. Therefore, he couldn't deny the possibility that the scenes Yuan Fang had just mentioned might actually come to pass.

But that name was simply unjustifiable. He couldn't think of a single karmic connection it had to him—unless it wasn't his name at all, but rather the answer to his earlier question.

He had asked for the patient's name, and she had provided the answer by revealing a specific future.

If that were truly the case, it pointed to a very serious problem: the credibility of that beautiful future Yuan Fang had seen was drastically reduced.

This brought up his current paradox. In order to complete the mission, he had to blend into this world and interact with the patient in his capacity as a doctor.

But once he blended in, the outcome of the patient going mad would be predestined. Every action he took would only bring that future closer.

So how was he supposed to complete this seemingly unsolvable task?

Now the answer had arrived—he just needed to turn that approaching future into an illusion.

Spurred by the role model of a hero and the firsthand demonstration of a toxic doctor, Brother Jifeng ultimately won his internal tug-of-war and chose to return to his original intentions.

And perhaps due to objective laws, she couldn't change the future Yuan Fang saw either.

But why not just turn this future into an illusion layered over the reality of the world?

The Natives would indeed usher in a beautiful world covered by the Flame Blessing, but at its core, it would be nothing more than a disguise made of ash.

The so-called infinite possibilities were merely multiple endings meticulously woven by the world's will—a far cry from a true open world.

In this way, all the logic suddenly fell perfectly into place.

As expected, the only one who could defeat the illness was the patient themselves.

Of course, this was just one possibility. He still needed to wait for a prompt to prove it.

"You even know that. As expected of a Prophet."

As his mind raced, Fu Qian looked leisurely at the three Natives.

"But if you don't mind, the next time you see this getup, just call him Ballard."

"Ballard?"

The name made Akasha frown slightly, and she couldn't help but look over.

Unfortunately, Fu Qian paid her no further attention. Instead, he listened to the voice ringing in his head.

[Current task completed. Designation 1-039 Containment successful]

At the same time, however, a strange sensation welled up in his heart.

Fu Qian felt as though his will had pierced through layers of flowing light, extending far beyond the sky.

Higher up in the endless void, flames deeper than darkness itself seemed to flow and gather into a face.

[SAN Value -1]

[SAN Value -1]

[SAN Value -1]

...

With just a single glance, Fu Qian felt his brain matter begin to boil. His SAN Value plummeted like draining water.

'What kind of mechanic is this? The mission is done, but my SAN Value is still dropping?'

Faced with such a classless, underhanded trick, Fu Qian cursed inwardly and casually gripped the Pseudo-God Incarnation. If things got out of hand, he was ready to activate it immediately to cut his losses.

Fortunately, the Warehouse finally appeared before his eyes the next moment, and the SAN Value drain notifications abruptly stopped.

Without rushing to tally his losses, Fu Qian sat in his chair and recalled the sensation from just moments ago.

Unlike his many past brushes with death, although those Higher Existences were grotesque and bizarre, the SAN Value drain mostly stemmed from the passive side effects of their very existence. In layman's terms: if you didn't look, you'd be fine.

But this time, Fu Qian felt that profound malice with absolute clarity, as if he were guilty of some unforgivable sin.

'Could this be the arsonist?'

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