Eldritch Horror Theatre

”Is there anything you need me to do?”

Following Lanaya’s departure, Professor Lisa—having found both material and psychological satisfaction—finally excused herself as well.

After confirming with Fu Qian that she didn’t need to stay behind and help, the research assistant, Classmate Liushuang, maintained her good attendance and headed off to report to the Sword Comprehension Institute.

Soon, only Fu Qian and Su Gao were left in the early morning quiet of the laboratory.

As Su Gao admired the surrounding layout, she cut straight to the point to confirm the details of the test.

”Dreaming. Do you remember the last time we met?”

Fu Qian answered bluntly, flashing a ring on his hand as he spoke.

”That special dream? I remember.”

Studying the faintly shifting, dreamlike ring, Su Gao nodded.

”Including what I said at the end?”Fu Qian asked, satisfied. He was, of course, referring to the matter of not accepting the mission to hunt down the Frost Demigod.

”Yes.”

”Good. But today’s test has nothing to do with that. I just need you to enter a dream again and try to control it to the greatest extent possible.”

Light flowed across the ring as he spoke, directly activating the Lucid Dream.

”Also, the dream won’t be very stable this time, so you must ensure it doesn’t just shatter in the process.”

...

During the previous Nightmare Corridor incident, when facing the overconfident Alakir, Classmate Su Gao had already shown herself to be extraordinary.

Not only had she instantly noticed the pull from the dream, but she had even entered it in reverse, forcefully maintaining the clear awareness that she was dreaming.

Later, banishing Brother Persuader with a single look had demonstrated the formidable might of the Power of Echo to the fullest.

She was exactly the kind of talent he needed.

The last time he was in this exact place, he had tried to open a new pathway—from the dream to the Mind World, and even touching that Place of Divine Imprisonment.

The final conclusion, however, only thoroughly proved the unique nature of his identity as an outsider: there were some places he was simply not allowed to enter.

The illusory realm created by the Lucid Dream was, at its core, a playground entirely under his control.

Not only did he not naturally dream in his daily life, but even this active dream showed absolutely no signs of connecting to the Mind World of intelligent creatures.

Of course, honestly speaking, this didn’t affect him all that much.

Even if the Red Moon’s consciousness wasn’t entirely lucid, helping him open a door was still no difficult task.

What was interesting was the conclusion itself. When his previous attempt failed, Fu Qian’s focus had already shifted to the unequal treatment outsiders received.

Why did this situation exist?

Or rather, what was the true nature of the Emissary Mask ”synchronizing” with this world?

After all, so many Warehouse Seniors before him seemed to have done a perfectly fine job adapting to local customs.

This was undoubtedly another deeply profound subject. On one hand, it would be best to wait for an opportunity to ask more seniors for advice; on the other hand, it was rare for a teammate with a special constitution like Su Gao to deliver herself right to his door.

Fu Qian’s idea was to see if he could use her help to open a pathway from the dream into the Mind World.

That way, he could evaluate exactly how severe this differential treatment against outsiders truly was.

...

The dream expanded, though the scenery before their eyes remained unchanged.

Classmate Su Gao didn’t resist in the slightest, entering it in near-perfect synchronization.

”It does seem a bit unstable.”

She had clearly taken his earlier words to heart; she didn’t speak immediately, instead silently sensing her surroundings for a moment before giving her conclusion.

That was because this dream didn’t even have a theme.

As the Sovereign of the dream, how could he fail to feel the soap-bubble-like tremors rippling through the space as Classmate Su Gao looked around?

Without a doubt, Fu Qian had set this dream up with Su Gao as the main subject.

But compared to his numerous previous operations, the biggest difference was that Fu Qian hadn’t set any conditions for the dream to end.

Without an endpoint, everything that happened along the way would become difficult to define.

The ending condition was essentially similar to an Anchor Point for the dream’s existence. It was precisely because there was an end that the process in between could remain more stable.

However, the goal of this attempt was to let Su Gao seize maximum control over this dream that he was participating in.

Fu Qian remembered the key points of dream erosion he had summarized from his previous practical experiences with absolute clarity.

For most ordinary dreams, the prerequisite for their existence was that the subject didn’t know they were dreaming. Once they realized it, the dream would become unstable or even shatter.

But realizing this fact also brought a benefit: the person would no longer walk through it as an ordinary person, but would instead transform into a Sovereign much like himself.

Right now, what Classmate Su Gao needed to do was maximize the development of that second point while ensuring the dream didn’t shatter, so that the entire dream could break free of his shackles.

Simply put, he was going to cultivate a dream subject who possessed almost identical Sovereign authority, and then let her bring him surprises.

Therefore, he definitely needed to avoid something like an ending condition—which was inherently a strong mark of his own influence—as much as possible.

Even though this would make it much harder for Su Gao to maintain the dream.

”Find the balance, step into the deepest depths... This is your dream. I’m just a spectator.”

Facing Su Gao’s assessment, Fu Qian simply nodded, not even shifting his posture.

”Okay.”

Answering with just a single word, Su Gao fully grasped the intent. From that moment on, she didn’t even pay attention to Fu Qian over there anymore.

Standing up on her own, she walked around the relatively small space. Amidst her unsuppressed footsteps, a sense of ease that would never appear in reality quickly settled over Su Gao.

She seemed particularly fond of the pattern on the curtains. A moment later, she arrived by the window, lightly stroking the fabric to admire it in detail before pulling it aside.

Behind the curtains, a door had abruptly materialized on what used to be a solid stone wall.

Not bad at all.

The door naturally had nothing to do with Fu Qian. Such a change was a strong indicator that Classmate Su Gao’s control over this place was already incredibly high.

Moreover, the dream had stabilized.

She hadn’t let down his expectations. The volunteer was doing an excellent job.

Creak—

At that moment, the small, arched door was pulled open. Amidst the rather unpleasant grating sound that felt both near and distant, what lay outside was actually a suffocating blanket of pitch-black darkness.

But it wasn’t the night sky. It seemed even more silent than that. At the same time, as Su Gao took a step forward, Fu Qian could almost feel the soundless vortex swirling within—

And that was it.

Just as Fu Qian wanted to experience more of it, the scene was already replaced by a bright, sunny morning, and Su Gao was nowhere to be found.

The answer: discrimination against outsiders was incredibly severe...

Sighing inwardly, Fu Qian ended the dream as he savored the lingering feeling.

He was back in his own laboratory, and Classmate Su Gao, who had been cooperating with the test, was now slumped over the desk in front of him.

Looking at her face as she slept more soundly than ever before, Fu Qian picked up his lukewarm tea and took a sip, in no rush to wake her.