Eldritch Horror Theatre

The Old Man was ruthless—

They hadn’t seen each other in a while, yet the old doctor hadn’t lost a bit of his former charm, setting a new low the moment he opened his mouth.

Fu Qian had assumed the equipment was just a little crude and possibly reused. Had it actually been a case of turning waste into treasure all along?

And beachcombed, at that?

An image of ocean trash washing ashore—plastic bottles, styrofoam boxes, and the like—naturally popped into Fu Qian’s head.

”Where’s the sea? How come I didn’t notice it?”

Rather than condemning the practice, Fu Qian’s eyes lit up, as if he wanted in on this lucrative business himself.

”Just keep walking along those things outside and you’ll see it. It’s right at the border of this dream.”

Fortunately, the old doctor was generous enough not to keep it to himself, sharing the secret outright.

”The border of the dream?”One term he used, however, left Fu Qian thoroughly impressed, prompting a casual follow-up question.

So the Old Man even knew this was a dream? No wonder people said the older you get, the clearer you see things.

”What else? Didn’t you enter this place through a Dream Core—or as your lot probably calls it, a Starry Sky Rose?”

Yet the surprises from the old doctor weren’t over.

With that natural counter-question, he showed he not only knew the essential element for Blood Clan advancement, but even knew its other name.

”They do call it that, though I don’t really agree with the name.”

Even so, Fu Qian stood firm on principle.

On one hand, he admitted that was indeed the case; on the other, he reserved judgment on whether the thing actually counted as a rose.

”Still, the term Dream Core is quite interesting. Who did you hear it from?”

Even from their brief exchange, it was clear that while the old doctor might be reckless with his medical supplies, he was far from ordinary, and Fu Qian humbly asked for guidance.

”Need you ask? From a patient like you, of course.”

The payoff was just as rich. Though the old doctor’s tone wasn’t particularly polite, his answer was once again shocking.

”Didn’t you say you don’t get many patients here?”

Clicking his tongue in wonder, Fu Qian curiously double-checked the man’s earlier claim.

”Not often, no. You’re roughly—the second.”

The old doctor thought about it for a moment this time, seemingly taking stock of his career as a healer.

So he had only ever treated two people in total?

How on earth had he boasted about having ”peerless medical skills” with a record like that?

That staggering number stirred Fu Qian’s memories.

The very first time he had opened his eyes on that sickbed, the old doctor had greeted him with brimming confidence.

Wait a second. If there had only been one person before him—

Setting his silent complaints aside, Fu Qian’s mind raced. Thoughtfully, he turned and gestured toward the door.

”Don’t tell me the first one is that fellow outside?”

The door was as crude as ever. Though it had been carefully shut, bright moonlight still seeped through the cracks.

That naturally brought to mind the werewolf kneeling in the courtyard, striking a pose as it gazed up at the moon.

Aside from the doctor in front of him, that was undoubtedly the only living creature of flesh and blood he had seen here—though it was presumably dead by now.

”Yeah, he refused treatment, so he ended up like that.”

Sure enough, the old doctor admitted it openly.

There was a rather sly edge to it, too—he instantly cleared himself of any medical malpractice, implying it wasn’t his fault the patient had turned out that way.

”Are you saying he looked like that when he arrived?”

Fu Qian wasn’t so easily fooled and immediately looked skeptical.

”Well, no. What I mean is he didn’t want treatment and ran off, leaving behind a substitute like that. So I had no choice but to give the IV drip to the substitute.”

There was undisguised regret in the old doctor’s voice.

”Thankfully, it was pretty cooperative during the process.”

Reality truly was stranger than fiction.

Brother Werewolf really was the first patient, except the werewolf outside wasn’t actually him?

The old doctor’s words carried a wealth of information, and Fu Qian quickly pieced together a likely version of events.

Someone had gone through an experience much like his own first visit, dropping into this place and meeting the enthusiastic doctor.

Except after realizing this was a shady clinic, that person had handled it differently—tossing out a substitute to take the IV drip in his place.

That was every kid’s ultimate dream!

Also, wasn’t that a bit unfair?

Back then, Fu Qian had struggled just to kip up off the bed, yet the first patient had already been capable of pulling off a Transcendent Tier move like that?

Sure enough, you should never compare your perks with a senior’s.

Fu Qian let out a long inward sigh.

Yes, when it came to the ”first patient,” his immediate reaction was to wonder if the man might also be a predecessor.

The werewolf’s look was a little wild, true, but the old doctor had just said he finished giving it the IV drip.

It made complete sense if the substitute had originally looked fairly human and only turned into that state afterward.

If that was the case, though, the double standard was downright outrageous.

In a similar situation, he had been sent in as an ordinary mortal of flesh and blood, forced to treat this place as a trial stage.

Of course, aside from that possibility, this was still the site of an advancement ritual recorded in the Blood Clan’s genealogy.

In all fairness, the odds were higher that the patient wasn’t a predecessor at all, but someone of Blood Clan lineage.

”How cooperative? Did he tell you his name?”

The good news was that Blood Clan names had a distinct style, making it easy enough to verify.

A name—

That question seemed to tax the old doctor’s brain cells a little, and he quickly sank into thought, muttering to himself.

”I think he really did mention it. His name was Ji Feng.”

Aha?

Never resting until one’s words astonish—who knew the old doctor still had the impulsive spirit of a teenager at his ripe old age?

When the doctor hadn’t immediately said no, Fu Qian’s expectations had already been piqued, feeling like he was about to stumble onto free money.

Yet when the final answer came out, it delivered an even greater surprise.

It really was a predecessor? That Lord of the Deep?

To Fu Qian, the name Ji Feng carried far more weight than someone like Gulade.

Old Man Ji was one of the most accomplished administrators, and Fu Qian had already run into plenty of his legacies, even experiencing a recording of one of his past operations firsthand. They shared a deep connection.

And now it turned out that connection ran even deeper than he had imagined?

On his very first day on the job, he had ripped out the man’s internal organs with his own two hands?

Even if it was only a substitute, the Warehouse’s corporate culture was truly something else.

What’s more, the moment the name Ji Feng came up, there seemed to be an additional explanation for that apparent unfair treatment.

He might have blamed the Warehouse wrongly.

As everyone knew, Brother Ji Feng was a genuine veteran through and through—not only had he traveled hundreds of years into the past for missions, his personal standing was absurdly high.

For him to show up here under those circumstances, could it be that it wasn’t a mission assignment at all, and he had come here the exact same way Fu Qian just had?

Judging by the old doctor’s reaction, as long as a living person wandered in here, he automatically assumed they were here for treatment—no definition from the Warehouse required.

”So, are you going to accept treatment?”

The very next moment, the proof practically delivered itself to his doorstep.

Before Fu Qian could say a word, the old doctor cut straight to the point.