Eldritch Horror Theatre

”You’re back.”

Su Gao kept her eyes glued to Fu Qian’s face the entire time, only letting out a soft breath once he sat back down.

”Was I gone long?”

Fu Qian glanced around. Nothing had changed since he left, right down to Su Gao’s posture.

She had taken him at his word, waiting right here without moving a muscle.

”Just a little while.”

Su Gao shook her head slightly.

”You seem a bit different.”

Hmm?

Fu Qian genuinely wasn’t sure how she had noticed.His condition had stabilized by now, and his injuries were mostly healed.

As for his Rank, although he had completed the ritual early, he was fundamentally still a demigod. He was absolutely sure of that.

So was it because he had ”anchored the position of a Deity early”? Or was it the fact that he had lost a hundred and forty SAN Value in one fell swoop?

He hadn’t had the time to think about it earlier, but looking back on it now, his hard work had truly been wiped out overnight. His SAN Value was down to a mere thirty-something.

”Maybe it’s because I took a trip home.”

A moment later, Fu Qian nodded, a hint of emotion in his voice.

It wasn’t an easy answer to understand, but Su Gao simply murmured in response, seemingly able to grasp the sentiment behind his words.

”Is Yasui Tokiyuki... dead?”

She hesitated slightly. Even someone as strong as Su Gao clearly lacked confidence when asking this.

”Pretty much. Either way, Siren owes me more money now.”

Fu Qian confirmed her hopes.

The reason he said ”pretty much” was that, based on the mission summary, Fu Qian leaned toward the idea that Yasui Tokiyuki wasn’t completely dead yet—just trapped and stripped of his authority.

Of course, whether he retained any sanity after being polluted like that was highly questionable.

As he spoke, he lifted the teapot and poured himself a cup, radiating the casual elegance of a legendary hero returning from battle before his drink had even cooled.

In fact, the tea really was still warm.

”Hmph. Without me, who knows how many would claim the title of God, and how many would claim to be Emperor.”

Draining the cup in one gulp, Fu Qian tilted his head upward to gaze at the ceiling, his face full of dramatic lament.

This bizarre behavior didn’t lessen Su Gao’s shock in the slightest.

Yasui Tokiyuki was actually dead... and it really had only been a short while.

Mr. Fu’s tone just now had been as casual as if he’d just gone out to buy groceries...

Theoretically, it hadn’t even been half a day since Yasui Tokiyuki ascended to Tier 1...

It was rare to see Su Gao space out like this. The room fell entirely silent for a moment.

Clearly, even she couldn’t fathom how Fu Qian had managed it.

Of course, shock was one thing, but she didn’t doubt the truth of his words for a second.

”Yasui Tokiyuki is probably the most tragic New God in history.”

A moment later, Su Gao finally snapped out of her daze, offering a rare exclamation.

”New God? Is that what the Night Watchers call Tier 1?”

Fu Qian took the opportunity to ask.

”Yes. According to our internal terminology, it’s to distinguish them from the ancient deities.”

Su Gao explained earnestly.

New Gods, ancient deities. The contrasting terms did sound quite fitting.

Fu Qian fell into thought for a moment.

But was the difference between the two really just a matter of titles?

He thought back to the many Higher Existences he had encountered.

The most direct examples were, without a doubt, the two who had their kidneys scooped out.

In terms of how difficult they were to deal with, Hamadus had been little more than a living target, while Yasui Tokiyuki was vastly stronger.

Yet, purely in terms of how it felt to face them, it seemed like Yasui Tokiyuki was missing something.

That was Fu Qian’s subconscious assessment.

However, since Su Gao clearly didn’t know anything beyond that, he didn’t press the issue.

”So when the Red Moon appeared just now, was that Yasui Tokiyuki spying on us? He arrived so fast!”

”When a long-held wish is suddenly fulfilled, it’s human nature to ride high on that success.”

Confirming her guess, Fu Qian followed her gaze toward the spot where the Red Moon had been.

Clearly, everything that happened in Shangjing had already made Su Gao realize how special the Red Moon was.

Of course, right now, that hidden stalker had vanished without a trace.

”Are we leaving now, then? Yasui Tokiyuki’s death is bound to cause a massive fallout.”

”True, but there’s no rush.”

Fu Qian waved a hand.

Su Gao was right. With Yasui Tokiyuki dead, the current balance—and the one that was supposed to come—had undoubtedly lost its heaviest counterweight. Chaos was inevitable.

But when a complex structure lost its balance, the ripple effects didn’t necessarily spread that fast.

”Even if you went outside right now and shouted it all day, no one would believe Yasui Tokiyuki is dead.”

”...So, is there a risk of the cognitive influence caused by his notoriety spiraling out of control?”

Clearly placing immense trust in his judgment, Su Gao immediately thought of another issue.

”Hard to say. In fact, he even threatened me with that.”

Fu Qian answered with complete candor.

Although he didn’t think Yasui Tokiyuki had the luxury to pull something like that off, as the saying goes: when death is at the door, desperation breeds malice.

”Then I’d like to confirm the situation as soon as possible. We can’t count on Gin Kazuhiro. If there are genuine signs of it, I’ll inform headquarters directly.”

Su Gao nodded. She didn’t question the risks of Fu Qian ignoring the threat at all.

As a natural-born hunter, she wouldn’t bother with that kind of foolish overthinking.

”Actually, if you want to verify it, there’s a perfect indicator.”

Fu Qian pointed to a badge sitting on the table.

”Kisaragi Kana?”

Su Gao immediately understood what he meant.

”True... we’d only need to observe any changes in her influence over transcendents. It’s just a pity she’s likely still at the Night Watchers Base.”

Clearly, whether it was due to her issues with Gin Kazuhiro or her desire to protect Fu Qian’s alternate persona, she had no intention of marching right up to their door.

”So you want to know if the situation has changed, but you don’t really want to go outside?”

Fu Qian stroked his chin, summarizing her dilemma.

”Well, there’s still a way.”

He pointed to the TV behind him.

”You can turn it on and watch the news.”

...

Su Gao stared blankly once again.

Judging from their numerous interactions, it was likely because she had grown up in a place like the Rotten Forest—she really wasn’t accustomed to modern conveniences.

”If things really escalated all of a sudden, special incidents are almost guaranteed to happen.”

Like the two doctors in a certain clinic, for instance. And the authorities shouldn’t have had the time to cover up the news yet.

Fu Qian added the thought silently.

Regarding the [Brain Erosion] assignment, he had actually been pondering the underlying cause the entire time.

It was obvious that the core of this assignment revolved around Toshima Shiki. The pollution had ”flowed” outward from his consciousness, infecting the two doctors and forming that unique dreamscape.

Perhaps there weren’t many polluted individuals with such unique hobbies, but given the massive population, the number of similar bizarre incidents was bound to skyrocket.

”Breaking news...”

Su Gao was clearly quite receptive to advice and quickly figured out how to turn the TV on.

The footage that appeared on the screen a few seconds later was nothing short of spectacular.

Violent storms raged and massive waves blotted out the sky. Several ships, clearly belonging to Anjing Company, were pitching violently. One of them was completely swallowed by the water—a picture-perfect apocalyptic scene.

Since this was a region with high public awareness of supernatural powers, the news anchors were already boldly speculating that this was a turf war between two rival corporations. Their evidence? Several serpentine columns of water thrashing wildly through the air.

Talk about professional rapid flip-flopping!

As he observed the seemingly familiar constructs, a face surfaced in Fu Qian’s mind—a certain temperamental demigod named Sybil.