Eldritch Horror Theatre

It was nearing midnight, but the stars and moon were so brilliant that the surroundings actually felt a touch brighter.

Bathed in that light, Professor Fu’s solitary, departing silhouette carried a hint of desolation.

That desolation clung to him all the way back, lingering until he finally opened the door to the Laboratory.

Silence greeted him. Classmate Liushuang was apparently still running around dealing with that Hand Axe. The place had been bustling with activity during the day, but now it sat completely empty.

Not that it was entirely devoid of interesting things.

Walking straight to his Snakeskin Chair, Fu Qian dropped into it and stared at the box covered in golden patterns sitting right in front of him.

Despite the intense sense of déjà vu, this was obviously not Lisa’s.

He casually flipped open the smaller box. A pitch-black sphere sat inside.

It was even more miniature than Professor Lisa’s Bone Horseshoe Crab, roughly the same size as the Ancient Reminiscence he had eaten.

Its shape, however, was somewhat distorted.It felt slightly warm to the touch. Fu Qian plucked the bizarre gift from the box and weighed it in his hand—it was surprisingly similar in weight as well. At the same time, his gaze drifted to a thin flake beside it, no larger than a fingernail.

It was shaped like a standard Talisman. Its power was incredibly faint, and after a brief inspection, Fu Qian didn’t stand on ceremony—he picked it up and crushed it.

[A small gift. Please accept it, Professor Fu.]

[It is said to be a left eye, belonging to a certain noble who once suffered punishment. The endless regret born from her agony made the consort stubbornly wish to see the sight of her own dismemberment.]

[This obsession was so intense that eventually, the two eyes became able to see each other.]

[Even today, when one begins to tremble, it means it has resonated with the other. You may treat that as an invitation.]

[Please rest assured, it is absolutely safe under normal circumstances.]

’But if I accept the invitation, it might not be safe, right?’

Fu Qian thought to himself as he processed the information surging into his consciousness.

The Talisman’s power was clearly faint, and its function was dead simple: to leave a message.

A message about the object in his hand.

It really was another eye. And without a doubt, this unsigned message had come from the former dean of the Benevolent Curse Institute.

That person had not only made a clean getaway but actually had the time to swing by and drop something off.

It was honestly... brimming with malice.

...

Gifts were often not given out of the goodness of one’s heart.

Never mind leaving a profoundly wicked transcendent item sitting out in the open like this—what would have happened if the Old Man accidentally stumbled upon it?

The very purpose of sending this thing proved they were harboring malicious intent deserving of condemnation.

Fu Qian didn’t really doubt the Talisman’s claim. The eye probably was absolutely safe, rather than some hidden trap.

However, if he actually accepted it, he’d be faced with one immediate problem: when it started ”resonating” one day, what was he supposed to do about it?

The right eye was undoubtedly in the hands of the Origin Council. When the time came, just like the Talisman said, it would act as an ”invitation.”

Whether it would be from Nepheli or the Origin Council as a whole was impossible to say.

As for their intent, anyone could guess it wouldn’t be benevolent. Answering that call would be incredibly dangerous.

Yet it was also an effective way to track the Origin Council. It was basically a clue hand-delivered right to his doorstep.

Faced with such a gift, whatever he did next—whether he accepted it, ignored it, tossed it straight to the Night Watchers, or even brought the Night Watchers along to answer the invitation...

Every single one of those actions would reveal his true stance, giving Nepheli valuable data to analyze.

After finally returning, rather than hurrying to flee, that person had gone out of their way to pull a little stunt like this. He could clearly feel the indignation simmering in their heart.

But it made sense. Nepheli might have been plotting behind the scenes this time, but despite all her painstaking efforts, her harvest was clearly far from the greatest. It was perfectly normal to feel that kind of frustration.

For instance, she had finally achieved her goal and caught a glimpse across a thousand years, but she hadn’t ventured nearly as deep as he and Su Gao had.

As a fellow researcher, what he had witnessed and gained was clearly a cut above.

And Su Gao was even more impressive. After providing him with precious observation data, her experience of being torn by the tides was even showing faint signs of triggering a breakthrough.

Excellency Nepheli’s Wedding Dress Divine Art Technique was truly reaching the state of perfection.

And she couldn’t even blame it all on bad luck. Classmate Su Gao’s rich harvest might have been aided by Expert Fu playing support, but the core reason lay in her own principles and resolve.

Theoretically, if Nepheli had the guts, she could have absolutely followed the trail they blazed, run to the end of the Coffin Path, and taken a look for herself.

It was just a pity that the passage had slammed shut right after he and Su Gao returned, which spoke volumes about Excellency Nepheli’s decision.

Ultimately, leaving behind a scheme where the willing bite the hook in a fit of frustration was unusual, but it made perfect sense.

So, was he going to accept it? Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he?

A true master never covered their ears just because of a little risk. The greatest rewards always came from pulling chestnuts from the fire.

He could only say that staying polite was indeed a good habit; it had unexpectedly earned him yet another harvest.

Resting the ruined, boiled-egg-shaped eyeball in his palm, Fu Qian glanced at the nearby clock and directly took off the Emissary Mask.

The timing was perfect. He wouldn’t have to wait for the Warehouse to rush him.

...

[Warning. Containment breach.]

Back in the Warehouse, greeted by the deeply familiar warning chime, Fu Qian casually tossed the deformed eye onto the table in front of him.

As the saying went, work itself wasn’t terrifying; what was terrifying were the people who found beauty in it. Of course, regardless of anything else, the Warehouse had genuinely proven its worth this time. By acting as a makeshift Anchor Point, it had greatly simplified some of his decision-making.

Though it seemed to have gotten a little full of itself as a result. Today’s task looked more than a little severe.

[Name: Realm of Bliss. Code: 1-002.]

[Today’s work assignment has been updated. Enter the 1-002 Containment Scenario and complete re-containment.]

[Consume 1 SAN Value to start?]

Category 1, rank 2. Just the name alone sounded like a massive deal.

Examining the illusory image materializing in front of him, Fu Qian couldn’t help but click his tongue in awe.

Its design alone was visually striking.

The entire structure was shaped like a colossal funnel. Although it was rendered in the Warehouse’s usual pixel-art style, hiding the finer details, he could faintly make out multiple layers stacking on top of one another, shrinking drastically from top to bottom. Wasn’t that... a little wrong?

The sense of déjà vu was overpowering. One didn’t need to be a scholar to realize it looked exactly like the depictions of Hell in certain myths.

Paired with the name Realm of Bliss, the visual was profoundly eerie.

Of course, it wasn’t completely at odds with its name. The color palette, at least, was undeniably brilliant and radiant. One look at it made you want to move in after you died.

[Yes.]

A moment later, Fu Qian casually confirmed the prompt and headed inside.