Eldritch Horror Theatre

They really had been eagerly waiting.

At that moment, Fu Qian just quietly sensed the ripples of his old friend, and did not deal a finishing blow.

It was a bit brutal, but to claim the Persuader’s body died and Dao dissipated right then and there—he didn’t think it was quite that extreme.

Right now, the one actually worth worrying about seemed to be himself.

Even without relying on Transcendent Perception, he could tell this surging Mist wasn’t as simple as a mere change in the weather.

Having been the Nightmare Dominator for so long, he knew the Mist had always functioned as a kind of boundary marker, possessing the fundamental attribute of being impassable.

Not to mention that the scene before him gave a strong sense of déjà vu, closely resembling the edge of the school during his very first mission in the Nightmare Corridor.

To the extent that if Sister Ox-Head crawled out of it the next second, Fu Qian wouldn’t find it surprising at all.

In short, following the Persuader’s roar, the core consequence in Fu Qian’s eyes was that he was now solidly trapped, with no easy way to escape.

Naturally, such a powerful effect was undoubtedly the work of The Prisoners. The battered Brother Persuader was still just playing the role of a tool.As for why His Excellency Arakiel and the others had undergone such a massive change in attitude—hiding out of sight before, but suddenly showing such great hospitality to keep him here?

It was actually easy to understand: the person they truly wanted to invite hadn’t arrived.

Just as he had guessed earlier regarding the resonance between the two Dark Moons: if the Witch could sense it, what about the hosts?

The answer appeared to be yes.

They had not only sensed it but had reacted instantly to achieve certain goals.

Their specific method was exactly what had just happened: the corridor instantly falling into ruin, stripped of its vitality.

Even when it was later discovered that they hadn’t left, they appeared to be stuck in mutual entanglement, powerless to act.

What impression would a scene like that give a visitor? That the danger was under control.

The logical next step would be to cast aside all worries and boldly enter to explore.

Especially when the first person to enter wasn’t their primary target.

...

He figured his running in first had taken The Prisoners somewhat by surprise.

But regardless, in a situation like this, no matter how much history they shared, they couldn’t just casually catch up. They had to follow through with the invitation to the bitter end.

Of course, this didn’t mean the group was actually fine. That ambiguous posture was entirely deliberate.

Without some unique alignment of interests, even blood brothers wouldn’t have this level of tacit coordination. How could anyone expect it from a group of higher entities who had nearly been driven mad by their imprisonment?

Combined with his earlier assessment that these guys had a habit of spinning disasters into celebrations, Fu Qian leaned toward the idea that The Prisoners were genuinely in a bind. They were simply turning waste into treasure.

Moreover, he had to admit that the Persuader’s performance throughout this process was quite solid. He had made almost the greatest contribution possible for his role.

Balancing shrewdness and buffoonery perfectly, he had done his utmost to lower Fu Qian’s guard against this place.

His subtle nuance and fluid responses were so exquisite that, in Fu Qian’s eyes, the probability of him being mind-controlled was extremely low.

Yes, his reactions just now had been completely genuine. The Persuader was merely playing himself—that was the answer Fu Qian preferred.

Even putting himself in the shoes of the five Prisoners, Fu Qian figured he would have done the exact same thing.

After all, the latter truly lacked any talent for deceiving people. It was better to just let him act naturally.

It was a pity, though. His capacity to handle pressure was somewhat lacking, and facing an old friend who knew so much of his background, he had finally cracked.

As for what the current situation signified, that naturally went without saying.

Since the invitation had failed, they were switching tactics.

The senior higher entities had clearly laid their cards on the table.

...

Honestly, for The Prisoners to manage such a response was already a rather impressive display.

They were even quite lucky. True, he—the first to enter—wasn’t the Witch they were expecting.

However, the pathfinder’s lack of Transcendent Perception made their disguise that much harder to expose.

It was just a pity they clearly didn’t understand the true weight behind the Dark Moon Knight’s claim, ”I’ll go scout the way first.”

Did they think he was the type to casually scribble an observation report and hand it in?

Without fully confirming the situation, how could he let the Pope carelessly step into danger?

Especially in a place suspected of trapping her ”Mother.”

Of course, the situation was now somewhat confirmed—and it didn’t look very optimistic.

This sudden, surging Mist meant the hosts were entering their second phase. If luring the gentleman into the urn failed, they were resorting to inviting the gentleman into the urn.

Pretending to be innocent hadn’t worked, so they were dropping the act. Fine, cards on the table. Until she comes in, you aren’t leaving today.

Yes, this was Fu Qian’s read on their current stance.

Since he hadn’t fallen for their trap to drag her in, they were directly detaining him, turning him into a hostage to force the Witch’s hand.

He had to admit, it could be called decisive and ruthless, even if it was a reaction anyone could have come up with using their heel.

The result of their collective brainstorming was simply that their intentions were easier to guess.

Moreover, the problem now lay right before him. This mask-off open scheme indeed needed to be dealt with.

After all, with this shift in stance, the advantage of time had firmly swung to the kidnappers.

Regardless of how they did it, by locking him up here, they only needed to wait quietly. The one who had to be anxious was the victim.

Their morals were so excessively low that they had even taken away the Persuader, leaving him with no one to talk to.

Having lost his usefulness for misdirection, The Prisoners clearly didn’t want him embarrassing himself here any longer, or inadvertently spilling more critical intel.

In that case—

Fu Qian rolled his wrists, casting his gaze toward the depths of the nightmare where there was still a sliver of visibility.

The Mist rolled like a tide, making everything look increasingly dreamlike and surreal—and unexpectedly, sound like it, too.

And right at the moment he looked over, a peculiar sound unexpectedly rang out alongside it.

...

A moo?

He had just noted that it wouldn’t be weird at all if Sister Ox-Head popped out of the Mist, and she was actually here on his heels?

Yes, although the sensation was peculiar. It was actually hard to determine whether the sound had reached him through his eyes or his ears, because the rolling, dense fog seemed to physically trace out the shape of the sound waves.

But Fu Qian still caught a hint of familiarity within it, as if it were Yesterday Once More.

He vaguely remembered that figure in the rolling Mist back then, holding an ox head high in the air.

If he remembered correctly, that should be an element from His Excellency Arakiel’s dream.

They had indeed dropped the act, hadn’t they? Judging by the decisiveness of their shift, The Prisoners were standing incredibly firm in their resolve.

To leave this place, he would have to genuinely fight a one-versus-five without any compromises—wouldn’t he?

In the next moment, the surging Mist and its accompanying sound completely stilled, as if frozen in place.

”Thanks for your hard work.”

Replacing it was the soft voice of the Dark Moon Pope.

At the center of this change, the suddenly manifesting Witch gave Fu Qian a slight nod.

”It’s nothing. The reception staff had it much harder,”

Fu Qian replied modestly, continuing to roll his wrists.

The Bone Chain tightly wrapped around them had already sunk deep into his flesh and blood.

Yes, he had merely activated the Summoning Technique.

Scouting the way meant exactly that. His agreement with the Witch had always been perfectly clear.

Regardless of how dire the situation was, Fu Qian had no intention of denying her resolve.