Eldritch Horror Theatre

Did the Well of Time affecting these Demon Mountain fanatics really only trigger when they interacted with an intruder like himself?

To Fu Qian, blind optimism had always been a terrible habit.

As he gradually gained insight into their grim situation, he didn’t rule out an even worse possibility.

On the surface, Mrs. Tracy had outlived her usefulness the moment she helped confirm that four days had actually passed. There was no need to waste any more time on her.

Simply walking away, or taking the more ruthless route of swapping his hand chop for a real blade and finishing the job, would both be perfectly rational choices.

Instead, while Fu Qian really did say his goodbyes, he lingered to add a few more words. His goal was to create enough confusion to plunge Mrs. Tracy into deep bewilderment, thereby forcing her into an unorthodox state of stability.

If he openly admitted to being her secret observer, then to Mrs. Tracy, regardless of his motives, it would mean those watching eyes had indeed appeared on her one-year anniversary.

On the other hand, if he denied it and claimed he was only joking, she would naturally draw the exact opposite conclusion—but it would still be a firm conclusion.

Given Mrs. Tracy’s fragile mental state, Fu Qian was slightly worried that either scenario might trigger an uncontrollable reaction, which could further disrupt time.

Yes, even if he wasn’t around, she might still propel time forward.Theoretically, it was an unfounded worry. After all, he hadn’t seen a single case like that so far.

Furthermore, based on what the Recorder Old Man had said, an ”intruder” like him was a rather unique entity in this place.

However, the astonishing adaptability these people showed toward time leaps—acting as if they were perfectly used to living this way—meant Fu Qian couldn’t lightly dismiss the risk.

To minimize any hidden variables concerning Mrs. Tracy, he had chosen to talk just a little bit more, leaving her hopelessly trapped in a mental loop of wondering whether her observer had actually come or not.

Additionally, Mrs. Tracy’s rather confused response regarding whether the Heat Current was still inside her seemed to suggest that this ”one-year anniversary” was largely a psychological obsession, lacking any true Transcendent ritual effects.

In short, faced with an increasingly dire situation, he had taken preemptive measures to patch up any glaring holes, lowering the chances of a total collapse by just a tiny margin.

As for why he didn’t just kill her to eliminate the source of the problem entirely?

That was an obvious solution, and it certainly looked like a permanent fix.

But there was an old saying: ”There must always be a Lich King.”

It was impossible to say whether destroying the source would wipe the slate clean, or if it would cause whatever was sealed inside her to completely erupt. If only the Director were here to explain it to him.

Getting his bearings, Fu Qian headed straight for the very back of the Sanitarium, making a beeline for the residence of Mrs. Tracy’s male companion.

...

This opponent’s capabilities were truly nothing to scoff at.

As he rapidly approached his target, he passed by several lit residences, yet he encountered zero resistance along the way.

Faced with this empty path, Fu Qian felt no sense of accomplishment for his successful stealth. Instead, he felt a grudging admiration for a certain character he had yet to even meet.

In truth, apart from stabilizing Mrs. Tracy’s condition, he had lingered in her room for another, smaller reason. Fu Qian had been highly interested to see if anyone would burst through her door to hand him another note.

Four days had passed in the blink of an eye. It seemed the time had come to truly test the Director’s ability to control the board.

As the most mysterious player in this game thus far, his earlier performance had been nothing short of stunning.

The way he positioned his personnel with almost omniscient precision, combined with that note mocking how ”the willing bite the hook,” gave the distinct impression that he operated on a completely different plane of existence.

So, how would a mastermind like that handle consecutive drops into the Well of Time?

He himself was theoretically a pawn already caught in those schemes, yet he had stubbornly sat in his room doing absolutely nothing for four straight days.

He had been genuinely anticipating the moment someone would kick down his door and forcefully drag him into a new incident.

And yet, right up until the moment he took his leave, nothing of the sort had happened. He hadn’t even spotted a single shadow outside the door.

Yes, the core reason he noted this night felt so incredibly oppressive was precisely because the streets were completely empty.

This could be interpreted as the Director deciding Fu Qian was a lost cause and angrily giving up on him.

But to Fu Qian, who never made the mistake of underestimating his opponents, this silence could also signal the exact opposite. Perhaps the Director had everything so perfectly under control that he simply felt no need to rush.

If the next destination Fu Qian chose upon walking out into the empty night was exactly where the Director wanted him to go, then why bother sending someone to dictate his lines?

Or to put it another way: making no arrangements at all was an arrangement in itself.

His current destination was exactly where the Director wanted him to be.

Click!

He arrived at the residence of Mrs. Tracy’s male companion in the blink of an eye. Standing in the darkness, Fu Qian pulled out the Key he had prepared beforehand and smoothly unlocked the door.

...

It was certainly worthy of its high-end luxury status. Even the hinges had been perfectly maintained, swinging open with barely a sound.

The internal layout of the room was identical. Even though the curtains were drawn far tighter than they had been in Mrs. Tracy’s room, Fu Qian had no trouble easily locating the reception area.

There was a reason he had chosen to come here instead of heading straight for the increasingly suspicious Head Physician’s Office.

For one, he already had all the necessary tools and intel. He possessed the Key and had received exact directions from Mrs. Tracy. Dropping by to take a look wouldn’t cost him anything.

The other reason was exactly what he had deduced earlier: upon leaving Mrs. Tracy’s room, he hadn’t seen the Director make a single move.

He might have formed his own theories about this strange lack of interference, but a true professional didn’t just theorize—they verified.

Yes. In Fu Qian’s eyes, using this room as a testing ground made it far easier to verify his theory than marching straight into the doctor’s office.

After a series of encounters, the Head Physician’s Office clearly seemed far more critical to the Sanitarium than this place.

But that exact importance was a double-edged sword. If he encountered something unusual in the office, it would be almost impossible to determine if it was truly the Director’s deliberate arrangement.

In a way, being ”useless” was its own kind of advantage.

Just imagine—what if he found something completely out of the ordinary here, something that stank of a heavy, deliberate setup?

If that happened, wouldn’t the chances of his conspiracy theory regarding the Director being true shoot up exponentially?

”You’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for a long time...”

In the very next moment, that out-of-the-ordinary thing appeared.

An unfamiliar voice rang out from the exact same spot Mrs. Tracy had been occupying in her own room. And judging by the tone, the speaker was not happy.