Eldritch Horror Theatre

With only half an hour left, this second storm was clearly shorter than the first.

Given the receptionist’s confidence, Fu Qian believed the contents of this medical file were relatively reliable.

Once it ended—just as he had suspected while speaking with Serana—he likely wouldn’t find a way back in anytime soon.

Given that, he needed to carefully plan how to use his remaining time.

Theoretically, this return trip had already yielded a massive harvest.

Not only had he found Moore within the storm, but he had also confirmed this place was genuinely connected to the Dominator of Death.

He had even figured out, to some extent, what the Dominator of Death’s return meant to the Greed Worms.

Along the way, he had also picked up a bit of information about the minor friction between Anjing and Siren, as well as matters involving Serana and Excellency Solendil.

The only issue was the original purpose of his return—he hadn’t found much related to the Ash Sea.

There was no trace of the Academy seniors, and the storm was strictly limited to Moore and its surrounding waters.Even Excellency Solendil’s plans were entirely focused on tracking this storm-shrouded Moore. The two matters appeared to be completely independent incidents.

Even so, the trip had been more than worth it.

Theoretically, he could just spend this remaining time sitting in that office, reviewing the information Excellency Solendil had delivered straight to his door—but that wasn’t enough.

Had he forgotten the Dean’s instructions before his departure?

As the product of years of agonizing exploration—did the Wise Dead truly have no connection to the Ash Sea?

Even with time running short, Fu Qian felt he still had a chance to verify it.

Why was he so confident?

Simple. Back in the real-world Moore when the weather was clear, he had also visited that office on the building’s top floor.

He had used that excellent vantage point to take a good look out over the city.

One of his most intuitive conclusions was that the office wasn’t the highest point in the city. The Peak of Moore was located elsewhere, less than a half-hour’s drive away—and this was it.

Fu Qian eventually came to a halt, sizing up the massive structure looming before him.

...

It was a highly modernized building. Its design was even newer than the Escort Agency Office, and its atmosphere simply could not be mentioned in the same breath as a slaughterhouse.

Precisely because of this, the contrast it formed with the decay unique to the Domain of the Dead was jarring enough to cause physical discomfort.

Perhaps to avoid being criticized as a crude, monolithic block, the architect had deliberately incorporated elements of the city’s local flavor.

Specifically, an extra Lighthouse-shaped Spire protruded from its absolute highest point.

It had to be said, it was an excellent vantage point. As the saying goes, the higher you stand, the farther you see.

As Fu Qian climbed the steps, it felt as if he were scaling a solitary eye perched at the tip of a tentacle—or perhaps it really was one?

That was exactly the point of seeking out the highest peak in Moore.

Perception might be limited, but imagination was infinite.

When he left the Escort Agency Office earlier, alongside his other discoveries, an idea he’d had from the very beginning was faintly confirmed—could this storm-shrouded Moore actually be alive?

At first glance, it seemed like a redundant question. After all, from the very beginning, he had been trying to prove that compared to the Bone Spirit Realm, this place was a living Domain of the Dead.

But he didn’t mean ”living” in that sense. Fu Qian meant it quite literally—could the Moore before his eyes actually be a colossal beast?

It might sound overly abstract, nothing more than a mental exercise useless for solving his current problem.

But past experience was a guide for the future, and he had truly encountered something similar before.

A miraculous creature.

...

Compared to the Corrupted Sword Heart, or Huo, who existed only within the dreams of people over fifty-nine, this ”Storm Moore” was actually quite straightforward.

The reason he made this connection was due to a shared characteristic: Storm Moore only existed while the storm raged.

Wasn’t that a state of existence highly dependent on an abstract concept?

In short, ever since the ”old man” brought this up, Fu Qian naturally began to picture himself walking through the innards of a colossal beast.

High-rises and old houses formed its bones, and crisscrossing streets served as its veins, as it lay prostrate by the sea in bizarre fashion.

It even possessed a metabolism.

A Reflection completely disconnected from the outside world, yet constantly refreshing itself.

This overly flexible process operated in perfect harmony as a whole. It showed no signs of collapsing from localized contradictions, which alone strongly suggested a living entity.

It even reacted remarkably fast to his intrusion as an uninvited guest.

For instance, that ”Wise Dead.”

If it wasn’t purely a coincidence, could that be interpreted as the city’s welcoming ceremony for him?

A relatively friendly one, at that.

Although the old man had probed him constantly, he had been quite generous in sharing information.

In response, he had naturally returned the favor, playing the part of a friendly outsider.

For example, he hadn’t cut in line like Excellency Serana to disrupt the peace and harmony here.

After he reached the Escort Agency Office, the behavior of the Greed Worms was one thing, but those accident reports had truly made the whole situation more vivid—especially the final one from the receptionist.

An accurate weather forecast, transmitted to reality before the storm even hit.

Was that an ability to predict the future, or simply a description of Storm Moore’s biological clock?

Could this natural disaster sweeping only across Moore and its nearby waters actually be the sound of the colossal beast’s slumber?

In short, the entity was feeling more and more lifelike.

As for how to apply this imagination? Practically, of course.

Fu Qian had repeatedly recalled the overall layout of Moore. He concluded that it didn’t resemble any sort of crawling monster at all, making it impossible to pinpoint vital organs like a brain or a heart.

Given that, he decisively opted for the highest point.

Exactly. His reasoning was just that straightforward.

Standing high meant seeing far. Could the concept of the highest point in Moore make this place the colossal beast’s eye?

Since the information he currently possessed wasn’t enough to make a more complex judgment, why not simplify the problem?

He just had to wait and see—

”What are you doing? There’s no one here anymore.”

However, just as he squeezed into the building through a stalled revolving door, a voice stopped Fu Qian in his tracks.

”It’s still pretty early, isn’t it?”

He didn’t mind the interruption. He simply stopped and looked toward the source of the voice.

Clatter...

First came a sequence of jingling keys, followed by a burly figure slowly sitting up from the shadows, looking exactly like a night-shift worker caught slacking off.

”That’s just how Moore is... as long as it looks late, it counts as late.”

The opening line was surprisingly familiar. Fu Qian figured he had heard the exact same phrasing at least three times by now.

”You aren’t a local, are you?”

The other party was clearly observing him as well, though he still hadn’t bothered to stand up.

”I’m really not... are you?”

Fu Qian nodded.