Eldritch Horror Theatre

”As you pass on to bliss, may you awaken to the emptiness of all karmic hindrances. Then my sharp blow to the head will have had some meaning.”

”Especially learning not to change the subject when questioned by someone holding a weapon.”

The Masked Madam hit the ground stiffly without a single grunt. At the exact moment she fell, Fu Qian casually offered these last rites in his mind.

According to the rules of this false Realm of Bliss, being murdered by a scoundrel was no big deal—just another trip through samsara. Still, he wouldn’t kill someone on a whim merely because they were impolite.

He just did it to improve efficiency.

Fu Qian didn’t hold much against this bunch of performance artists. But thanks to their bizarre thought processes, any conversation could undoubtedly be misinterpreted and turned into a part of their performance art.

For instance, whether he truly intended to head to the Brotherhood or had just said so for some alternative karma could easily spiral into a labyrinth of overthinking.

But if he happened to commit a major felony along the way, it would undoubtedly be much more convincing.

”A monstrous crime—”

Godot’s reaction perfectly illustrated this point.He crouched down almost simultaneously, trying to confirm if the Masked Madam was truly dead.

Before he could even pull off her veil, the distinct fragrance seeping out provided the answer directly to his nose.

At that moment, Godot’s voice even grew shrill.

”Are you the one who woke up earlier... Lu Ming?”

It proved that once the external brain was out of the picture, sheer intellect could still take the high ground.

Seeming to realize something suddenly, Godot immediately proposed a startling theory.

”But that’s impossible... How could you arrive here instead of suffering Chastisement...”

However, he subconsciously rejected the idea the very next moment.

Fu Qian’s hammer strike had practically smashed his afterlife worldview until it teetered on the brink of collapse.

”Very good. But we can talk about this on the way. Lead on.”

Highly satisfied with this reaction, Fu Qian wiped the blood off his Golden Melon with a black veil and gestured to Godot.

...

It wasn’t until Godot took the lead, walking at the very front, that little petals began to sprout from the Masked Madam’s body.

And in the end, her veil was never removed.

The main reason Fu Qian was pleased with Godot’s reaction was the sheer amount of information it revealed.

To instantly connect the skull-smasher in front of him with the completely unrelated Lu Ming, and to even know that the latter should have suffered Chastisement—the only explanation was that news of his evil deeds had already spread here.

And gruesome serial crimes were always easy to link together.

It seemed that during all his back-and-forth travel earlier, the flow of time in the City of Extreme Evil had remained relatively normal.

He grew even more excited to see the sights at the Brotherhood’s hall.

”So, when did you hear about it?”

After hopping into a carriage during their hurried journey, Fu Qian finally asked Godot for details.

The skull-crushing was just to make people quickly believe what he said. The reason he chose to smash the Madam instead of this guy was simple—Godot looked like he could run a bit faster.

Facts proved that this judgment was spot on.

”I just heard about it. Everyone was shocked.”

Godot responded almost instantly. His tone had recovered, once again brimming with the peace of an ancient well without ripples.

”Did you hear anything else?”

Fu Qian gave a slight nod.

”No.”

Godot’s gaze fell on the small hammer in Fu Qian’s hand, and he weighed his words before answering.

Very reasonable. If she had heard about what he had done at the Brotherhood’s hall, the Madam most likely would have canceled this operation.

”Let’s make a trip to the Church first.”

Without doubting Godot’s answer, Fu Qian stared straight ahead and issued a new order.

”...But the Church is right up ahead.”

Godot didn’t dare refuse Fu Qian’s demand, though he still let a hint of frustration slip.

”Right, which is why I meant to stop up ahead.”

...

Once someone appeared to accept the worst possible outcome, a surge of unexpected clarity often followed, like the sudden burst of energy right before death.

Take Godot right now, for instance. He showed absolutely no intention of complying in public while opposing in private.

”I’ll wait here.”

He didn’t ask extra questions, didn’t say an extra word, and didn’t waste a single second. He swiftly parked the carriage in front of the Church and bluntly stated he would wait obediently outside.

His only little tell was that, as he spoke, he unconsciously glanced into the Church. He seemed curious about what exactly was inside that made Fu Qian insist on coming here first.

This must be the Burden of Causality that Brother Gravekeeper mentioned.

In theory, being killed as a victim in this realm of bliss wasn’t a big deal—just one more cycle of samsara.

Yet Godot showed a considerable amount of fear, just like any mortal of the secular world.

The reason was simply that he didn’t want to give up the karma he was currently entangled with.

Treating the world as a game ultimately required a considerable level of comprehension and enlightenment to pull off.

Too many people who started with that mindset ended up being played by the world instead.

”Alright.”

Sighing inwardly, Fu Qian nodded and walked straight up the steps.

He had really returned... It seemed that not much time had passed.

He naturally looked into the Church as well, easily spotting the priest sitting there in a daze.

The murder scene on the floor had already been cleaned up, but the man hadn’t fully recovered from the shock yet.

Besides, after seeing so much of the White-Headed Sanctuary, this nameless Confession Church suddenly looked a bit more pleasing to the eye.

He didn’t go to the priest to confess, nor did he offer himself as a target for the man’s confessions. Instead, Fu Qian walked straight to his old seat and sat down. He then looked up at the blank space where an Emblem should have been, his movements freezing in place.

’Very good. I am gradually understanding everything.’

Even though there was nothing there, from the moment he entered the Church, Fu Qian could feel that Ecstasy beginning to boil. The seed of pleasure truly had long since sprouted in the depths of his heart.

The higher entity who controlled the relevant authority, the master of the White-Headed Church, had indeed left traces across different Heavens. They seemed to have very deep roots in this Realm of Bliss.

Furthermore, that entity and the ancient being were definitely two separate individuals. Otherwise, with this Seed of Ecstasy in place, if they truly intended to influence his will, they wouldn’t have needed to go through all the trouble they did earlier.

Of course, they still shared one thing in common—their hostility toward him.

The eyes, likely belonging to the ancient being behind the scenes, had certainly been proven to be targeting him from the very start.

The ”Stomach”, which had shown no reaction earlier, clearly had a bone to pick with him as well.

In fact, it was already reacting right now.

Unlike the layers of pleasure forcibly simulated back in the White-Headed Sanctuary, a true ”part of himself” had come alive. It pulled at his will, warping it rapidly, as if every Bliss Potion from No. 1 to No. 18 had been smashed into his brain all at once.

Stepping voluntarily into ”His” Church had finally acted like a wake-up call, activating that malice.

Fu Qian remained perfectly still.

He had come to wake it up on purpose.