Eldritch Horror Theatre

So it really isn’t, huh?

Although no clear, viable purification method had been found for cases involving a Deity’s Divine Child, physically purifying Sarah along with it remained an option well worth trying.

However, Fu Qian was in no rush to resort to such a crude, straightforward solution.

Throughout this mission, the anomalies had multiplied at every turn.

The renowned doctor who enthusiastically welcomed outsiders had immediately resorted to inhuman methods, intending to turn everyone else into his tools.

The Saints who clung to their faith had long since suffered warped minds, trapped in near-hopeless self-torture.

And the helpless apostate had truly called down the favor of another higher entity; with her will on the verge of collapse, her flesh had simply warped into a kind of vessel.

Even the higher entity favoring Sarah had managed to drain his SAN Value through a mere trickle of infiltrating power, despite him already reaching Tier 2. The sheer ease of it served as a stark reminder of the chasm between God and mortal.

In short, almost everyone he had encountered so far hid a second face beneath their outward persona, making the Bitter Fruit he needed to find increasingly complicated and bewildering.

Did it refer to a mutation within one of the Natives?That was certainly the most obvious answer.

Applied to Sarah at the very end, it even carried a strong sense of déjà vu.

”Bitter Fruit” and ”child”—honestly, one couldn’t say the two concepts lacked any correlation.

A Divine Child was indeed gestating, and his task was to prevent the Bitter Fruit from maturing.

From that perspective, his most logical move upon confirming the anomaly within Sarah should have been going all out to purify her to ash.

But this raised an unavoidable question: why did the Containment requirements explicitly demand ensuring the survival of the Natives?

If the goal was truly just to purge a mutation within someone, wouldn’t the system have simply issued a mission to wipe everyone out?

Therefore, in Fu Qian’s estimation, even if he had ruthlessly pulverized Sarah to ash without a second thought, the mission likely still wouldn’t be fulfilled.

Of course, the mission remained incomplete now, but it hadn’t failed either, had it?

...

Sometimes, the absence of any reaction was a discovery in itself.

Under the current circumstances, he could draw a fairly definitive conclusion: the thing in Sarah’s stomach was not the Bitter Fruit.

The reason was simple. If it were, his mission would most likely be over by now.

Granted, Sarah’s act of tearing open her own abdomen with her fingers carried the undeniable suspicion of prematurely forcing its growth.

Even now, the presence of the ”child” could no longer be sensed upon her; every shred of sublimity had vanished, leaving her as nothing more than a deformed monstrosity.

Yet the wailing persisted. Following her actions just now, that Divine Child seemed to have formed some sort of fusion with Akons, and its state was remarkably stable.

Under these conditions, if the ”Divine Child” she had just torn free was truly the Bitter Fruit, there were only two real possibilities at this point.

First, the Divine Child was in good condition. That would mean it had been prematurely birthed with his help, and the Bitter Fruit had ”matured,” resulting in direct mission failure.

Second, this forced extraction had severely damaged the Bitter Fruit’s health, depriving it of any chance to be born normally and ruining its chance of ”maturing,” which would mean direct mission success.

The Containment objectives never specified that it had to be killed to count.

So either way, as long as it was the target he was looking for—whether he succeeded or failed—he should have already returned to the Warehouse by now, rather than standing here listening to its mother sing lullabies.

Of course, the transcendent world was treacherous and unpredictable. Given the remarkably lofty posture of this particular higher entity, he couldn’t completely rule out a slim possibility: even though the Divine Child fused with Akons was incompletely developed, that wouldn’t stop it from eventually maturing over time.

But even if that were the case, the mission hadn’t failed yet, had it? That meant he still had a way to deal with it.

The Warehouse had always been quite strict in its judgments on this front.

Naturally, these were merely superficial deductions, and they hadn’t even been the primary goal of Fu Qian’s placatory approach earlier.

After all, if he merely wanted to test whether it was the Bitter Fruit, killing her outright would have yielded more or less the same result.

The greatest significance of doing this now lay in unleashing a higher power that even he found extraordinary.

And making it highly likely that It harbored immense hatred toward him.

The target he had to deal with this time was incredibly elusive. Taking on a little extra pressure to introduce a third party didn’t seem like a bad thing to Fu Qian.

He had disturbed Madam Sarah’s peace, which had somewhat accelerated the collapse of her will. Naturally, he had to maximize the value of this sacrifice and let nothing go to waste.

”Sorry if my examination was a bit rough just now. The little one looks adorable, though. The weight issue can be solved slowly.”

Amid the thick stench of blood, the bride—the red and white on her body forming a blinding contrast—was now utterly immersed in the joy of being a mother.

Watching her stand there as if no one else existed, rocking the ”child” in her arms, Fu Qian finally stood up.

After listening to the lullaby humming from her mangled mouth and nose for a moment, Fu Qian offered the greatest courtesy one could give a mother: he highly praised her baby.

...

”Thank you.”

It truly was one of the most universally popular social pleasantries.

Sarah, who appeared to have little cognitive activity left, actually managed to force a faint smile at Fu Qian’s praise, which carried no hint of insincerity.

She even stroked the empty air in her arms before murmuring her thanks.

”Have you thought of a name yet?”

Fu Qian stepped closer and peered in, as if a fussy child were actually resting there, and followed up naturally.

”A name...”

However, Sarah didn’t appear to be a terribly diligent mother. Confronted with this question, she sank into deep thought, clearly not having thought of one beforehand.

”I haven’t thought of one yet...”

A moment later, she finally shook her head and confessed honestly.

”No rush, take your time. Who knows, maybe it’ll even offer its own opinion.”

Looking completely unsurprised by this, Fu Qian said with a smile.

”I’ll be going, then. I’ll drop by for a follow-up visit if I get the chance.”

And he was true to his word. As he spoke, he was already walking out, showing no intention of finishing her off.

Although Madam Sarah offered no reaction whatsoever to his last sentence, she sat down to the side ”cradling the child,” continuing to pat it lightly while gazing out the window.

Judging from her expression and the song starting up again, the darkness could no longer affect her in the slightest.

At the same time, Fu Qian casually pulled the door shut, not disturbing her further.

Even with the door shut, however, the ethereal wailing didn’t diminish in the slightest.

Why does this scene feel so seemingly familiar?

It easily brought to mind the Tree Infant that had shadowed him one-on-one during his last visit to Ehm Palace. Fu Qian mentally complained but didn’t mind it much. Amidst this newborn resentment, he stepped back into the night of Akons.