Eldritch Horror Theatre

Shattering the void was meant to keep shattering the void.

Fu Qian never forgot his mission objective.

And after taking stock of what he had gone through, he knew full well his time was running out.

As for why he had so freely unleashed his wicked desires in the Church, it was because of his earlier conversation. Based on what he had gleaned from the Tombkeeper, he believed that ”bliss” was undoubtedly a special power within this Second Heaven.

Special enough that it could almost rival the ”lotus” of the First Heaven.

Transcendent, indescribable, something that could be encountered but never sought... no matter how he looked at it, it reeked of a dimensional strike.

So upon arriving at the Church, Fu Qian immediately pushed the boat along with the current and reached out to touch it.

And thanks to his unorthodox approach, he had actually succeeded.

As for the sensation flooding his mind right now—strolling through Paradise could be no better.

But what came next?Losing himself in the joy was out of the question. Even ignoring the mission’s time limit, this thing wasn’t entirely free of side effects—

During his pleasure-fueled brainstorming session just now, Fu Qian had actually been keeping a close eye on any changes in the White-Headed Sanctuary.

Given their deep bad blood, it wouldn’t be surprising if he were recognized at any moment.

The result was that, while there was no obvious retaliation, successfully resonating with the bliss had caused a subtle shift in his perception of the Church.

For instance, he felt an inexplicable sense of intimacy toward the Finger Orb Emblem perched high ahead, and his mind seemed to hum with an alien restlessness.

The Seed of Ecstasy.

Realizing this, a certain title popped into Fu Qian’s mind almost instantly.

Or perhaps the Invitation Letter. He had once obtained an item called the Carnival of Wicked Desires, which could plant exactly such a thing into a person’s heart.

Once planted, it could not be removed. It would abstract infinitely until it consumed every ounce of reason as fuel.

”How does it feel?”

Just as he was savoring these thoughts, the Tombkeeper—who looked as though he had given up trying—turned his head to ask.

...

How did it feel? Naturally, it was—

”Fantastic!”

Fu Qian flashed a textbook smile, his answer sounding slightly exaggerated.

Though it was the absolute truth.

Fu Qian had always been quite curious about the whole concept of the Seed of Ecstasy.

He just hadn’t tried it before due to the inherent risks.

Getting to experience it during a mission was arguably better than doing so on the outside.

Once the mission concluded and his status reset, it would be as if the Warehouse had provided an extra layer of insurance.

And even if it proved to be a stubborn ailment, he could still transform into the King of the Abandoned Prison for a self-cleanse.

Therefore, even knowing he risked being tainted, Fu Qian had still acted without hesitation.

”...Is that so? Then it seems you really came to the right place.”

The Tombkeeper clearly didn’t quite buy it, however. After giving Fu Qian a surprised, assessing once-over, he finally offered a smiling word of encouragement.

He couldn’t be blamed. Fu Qian had thoroughly mastered the essence of the City of Sin, leaving his expression and words carrying a hint of Dislocation.

The Tombkeeper obviously couldn’t believe that someone bathing in bliss could maintain such lucidity.

”Yeah, you were right earlier. This kind of bliss really does make a person involuntarily lose themselves in it.”

Completely unsurprised by the reaction, Fu Qian replied casually while openly studying the Emblem.

He hadn’t noticed much amiss yet, but he was certain that as time went on, the Seed of Ecstasy would likely bring him trouble.

After all, based on his prior knowledge, being tainted brought about a fundamental change, meaning the concept of desire was truly activated—but it was still worth it.

The only reason he could perceive the ”bliss” so efficiently this time was precisely because of that attempt. He was now essentially walking a demonic path that harbored massive hidden dangers for his future.

But considering the current situation, if he didn’t take the demonic path for a quick boost, he probably wouldn’t even have a future to worry about.

”How long will this bliss I’m feeling last?”

Quietly weighing the pros and cons, Fu Qian continued to press for details.

”I’m not sure, but it will absolutely be a timeframe you’ll always consider too short.”

Seeing Fu Qian in such high spirits, the Tombkeeper didn’t seem to mind playing along, genuinely treating him as if he were thoroughly entangled in bliss.

”Understandable.”

So it seemed he needed to act a little faster.

Nodding slightly, Fu Qian thought to himself.

In the next moment, sensing the omnipresent ”bliss”, he mustered all of his willpower and resolutely expelled it.

...

That’s right, this was the method Fu Qian chose to use.

Perhaps he still understood too little about this Second Heaven, but if this power of ”bliss” truly possessed a nature similar to the ”Black Lotus” and could help forge a connection with the higher layers, why not try it right now?

Though the situation was urgent, it could always be more urgent.

One should never limit their own agency.

And as for why he chose this specific method?

With too little reference information available, he could only rely on his imagination.

The difference between ”bliss” and the ”lotus” was undoubtedly vast. Their sensory experiences were entirely distinct, yet they couldn’t even be called direct opposites.

There was, however, one aspect that could be made identical—discomfort.

Back in the City of Sin, accepting the ”lotus” had been undeniably agonizing, which to some extent explained why so many people failed to ”wake up.”

Yet in this place, the sensation of ”bliss” was so beautiful that rejecting it would clearly result in extreme agony as well.

Once viewed from this angle, hadn’t he found the consistency?

Of course, the concept was easy enough to grasp, but pulling it off was far from simple.

The sensation brought by ”bliss” sat on a noticeably higher tier; expelling it required far more effort than accepting the ”lotus” had back then.

Fu Qian’s method was simple and brutal: forcefully ignoring that pleasure, denying its existence within his consciousness, and ultimately breaking free from it.

As an abstract pleasure that permeated every corner of his being, this was obviously no easy feat.

If not for his repeated trials by fire—tempering his mind through extreme highs and lows—combined with his accumulated knowledge, the maneuver would have been nearly impossible.

Furthermore, the process of executing it was a far cry from simply returning to tranquility from bliss.

The cavernous emptiness that followed the forced withdrawal was, without a doubt, a torment akin to severe withdrawal symptoms.

And just as the bliss defied description, the resulting agony was equally unspeakable.

”Are you really planning to keep sitting here?”

Naturally, even amid such torment, the Tombkeeper failed to read anything from Fu Qian’s face. Seeing him sitting there in perfect, tranquil silence, he finally asked.

”What else?”

Fu Qian stared straight ahead, casually throwing the question back.

”Suit yourself. Anyway, even if you want to go somewhere else, don’t expect me to lead the way.”

The Tombkeeper ultimately possessed the carefree nature of someone from the World of Ultimate Bliss. Laughing heartily, he simply stood up.

Somewhere else?

Laboriously processing those few words, Fu Qian sank his focus inward. Amidst the bliss and agony now locked in a fierce, silent stalemate, he gleaned a trace of the balance between Yin and Yang.

And in the next moment, he firmly shattered that balance, allowing the torment to deepen.