Eldritch Horror Theatre

A unique tactile sensation.

As it turned out, the Serpent of Destiny opposite him hadn’t even tried to dodge, remaining completely motionless the entire time.

Though he was absolutely certain he had struck the target, Fu Qian simultaneously felt a bizarre wrongness.

Like a phantom strike.

Those unreasonably tough scales hadn’t been able to stop him.

But at the same time, it felt like he hadn’t torn through anything at all.

Even his visual feedback confirmed this.

His claws had clearly just swept through flesh and blood, yet there wasn’t a single wound on that bloated body. It remained completely intact.

Except at the exact spot he should have struck, where the shape of the scales had changed once again.

Slender, densely packed, and sharp as blades.They had even inflicted actual damage on him.

Fu Qian looked down at his hand.

Although the cuts weren’t deep, it felt like he had just grabbed a handful of thorns.

Interesting.

The last time he’d encountered such an astonishing ability to take a beating was from the Dominator of Death’s Covenanter, A Wei.

But given this entity’s status and Rank, the underlying mechanism shouldn’t be the same.

Was it processing the damage from the perspective of destiny? Rather than relying on mastery over the concept of Death—clack!

Just as Fu Qian was summarizing his test results, another soft sound rang out.

He saw that another scale had fallen from the exact spot he had theoretically just struck.

As expected—

It wasn’t converting damage into healing, but rather delaying the destiny of destruction.

The scenario easily brought to mind when he’d activated the Calamity Eyes earlier; the opponent’s body had remained perfectly intact, and then a scale had dropped without warning.

He had speculated about the cause back then, and the scale that dropped this time corresponded precisely to the spot he had just targeted, providing a solid reference point.

It proved the eye-shaped scales might have higher fire resistance, but the detonated Calamity wasn’t entirely ineffective—it even seemed to still be working.

As he drew further conclusions, Fu Qian saw another scale fall from the side of the serpent’s face.

It wasn’t from the spot he had just struck. Considering his other attacks shouldn’t have been forceful enough, he deduced that the detonated Calamity was continuing to slowly take effect.

Interesting. It felt very much like freezing one’s own destiny; all damage and decay would only manifest slowly over time.

However, although this was undeniably a cheap trick, to be honest, the shamelessness of this authority still seemed slightly inferior to the Dominator of Death’s. It didn’t appear sufficient to support such an arrogant posture.

You don’t even mind displaying your deformed side.

As Fu Qian silently evaluated it, the opponent’s overconfidence only seemed to intensify.

Completely ignoring its peeling scales, the Serpent of Destiny fixed its gaze on the hand Fu Qian had used for his assault.

After completing his test, he hadn’t rushed to change his hand back; it remained in the form of a lethal weapon.

And despite treating its own injuries with indifference, Excellency Destiny Serpent stared at that oddly shaped limb with unconcealed disgust.

As for why, Fu Qian figured he knew the reason—

Not only had his hand not reverted, but he hadn’t considered aesthetics at all during the transformation, directly utilizing an unedited, raw form.

The result overwhelmingly matched the style of Mechagodzilla.

A dark metallic texture, cold and hard lines, and geometric angles that shouldn’t exist in the biological world...

In all fairness, Fu Qian quite liked the look, but Excellency Destiny Serpent clearly disdained this mechanical form of the King of the Abandoned Prison, viewing it as an absolute monstrosity on the level of destiny.

“So what are you waiting for? I believe you have already obtained what you consider to be the correct answer.”

Unfortunately, it evidently had no intention of commenting further on those details, directly asking why Fu Qian had stopped attacking.

“Just a reminder, you don’t actually have much time.”

...

That was true.

Returning to his normal state didn’t mean he was standing in an invincible position.

At the very least, there was still the common risk of mission failure: failing to finish within the stipulated time.

Although no countdown or anything similar had popped up in his vision, Fu Qian believed his window of action wouldn’t be very long.

Just as Excellency Destiny Serpent had reminded him.

The fact that he even had time to run tests and chat was likely thanks to his high efficiency in the previous step—so why not chat?

Otherwise, what was the point of being so efficient?

The Serpent of Destiny. That sounded exactly like the honorific name of an ancient remnant, and having such a rare face-to-face opportunity, how could he not make good use of it?

Many of these characters weren’t entities you could just meet whenever you wanted.

For example, a very simple question: Excellency Destiny Serpent clearly knew Fu Qian was coming for it, so why didn’t it run?

The answer was simple: it couldn’t.

As stated repeatedly before, when attempting to bind others with relatively strong rules without possessing an overwhelming advantage, practically the only way to achieve it was by entering the game as a piece.

The reason his physique had been suppressed to that of a normal human earlier, facing both the direct threat of the Old Hunter’s assassination and the dual risk of failing the competition...

...relied on the premise that if he won, whether Excellency Destiny Serpent wanted it or not, it had to allow him to find it behind this door.

How could the power of a God be so easily suppressed?

Even so, it was like playing a chess match while carrying heavy weights; he was naturally at a disadvantage.

The earlier racing game had seemed easy, but in reality, there were instant-death traps practically everywhere. The situation had been so dire that playing it safe wasn’t even an option.

On one hand, the Old Hunter had set things up early and could continuously update his information through those trapped in the Inner World.

On the other hand, there was a point he hadn’t mentioned yet, which Brother Persuader had warned him about much earlier—the existential state of the Nightmare Corridor was unstable.

During his very first mission, after entering the door twice in succession, the mission scenario had directly changed rather than simply repeating.

That meant not only was playing it safe within the mission unfeasible, but even if he failed and restarted multiple times, his previous experience might not be applicable.

When he realized this might be related to the Nightmare Corridor, it was a risk he’d thought of almost as a conditioned reflex.

Especially after discovering the Old Hunter might be a predecessor, he had to stack on another risk: if he restarted, the opponent’s experience might also accumulate, and the room left for him to maneuver would rapidly shrink.

In short, after dancing in shackles under such harsh conditions to finally win this meeting opportunity—how could he carelessly waste it?

As for why he had to wear those shackles?

The core reasons were just two: the Nightmare Corridor might be a cage, but it was also the Serpent of Destiny’s territory, giving it a home-field advantage.

And given the Warehouse’s intelligence, this might already be the fairest competitive environment it could secure.

His earlier agreement with the “idiot” evaluation was by no means a blind echo, but a respect for the facts.

Of course, he also needed to respect the other party’s wishes now.

Squelch—

Since the target looked like it wasn’t going to dodge anyway, Fu Qian took a casual step forward. His unchanged sharp claws directly pierced through those layers of folds, then forcefully yanked outward.

Visceral Attack—the tactile sensation was still wrong.