Eldritch Horror Theatre

Even though the place had been reduced to ruins, it seemed the Codex was still being strictly enforced.

Literally pierced from head to toe, Fu Qian took in the relatively novel sensation. He was knowingly breaking the rules, yet he was in no rush to lower his altitude.

Just like the earlier ban on opening umbrellas, this reaction proved the Law was still in effect. In fact, its enforcement only seemed to be growing more forceful.

Truthfully, testing this was one of his main reasons for hoisting himself to this height in the first place.

However, he didn’t consider the results of this test to be good news.

There was a glaring contradiction here: if Old Man Lu and the others had actually run away, would the Divine Dream still be this stable?

He had previously deduced that the tentacles deeply fused with those two were likely the foundation keeping this Divine Dream intact.

If that were truly the case, their escape would be akin to pulling the firewood from under the cauldron; this place should have rapidly collapsed.

Therefore, the current situation left only two possibilities. First, his judgment was wrong, and the old men—along with the tentacles—were not the foundation of this dream’s existence.

If so, a slew of related speculations would be overturned, rendering the Deity’s residual dream over the Archipelago even more complicated and bewildering.Second, his judgment was correct, and the old men hadn’t left. They had just hidden themselves so well that they were hard to find.

At first glance, the second option sounded much more palatable. After all, he had experienced something similar at the very beginning, having to employ a few tricks to bomb the hidden tentacles out into the open.

Unfortunately, that was exactly where the problem lay.

Success lay with the Codex, but so did failure. As someone who had specifically studied it, Fu Qian felt that being too professional had its downsides. Why was no one allowed to exceed the height of the White Tower on the Archipelago? Was it just to display the majesty of the King of the White Tower?

That was certainly one reason. But within the Codex, this rule actually had a linked clause: ”Observers positioned higher than the White Tower are forbidden from concealing themselves.”

Indeed, there was more than one rule meant to assert the King of the White Tower’s majesty.

Besides forbidding anyone from standing on equal footing, it also forbade deception.

In fact, the people who knew these two rules should far outnumber those who knew walking on walls was forbidden inside the Laboratory.

This was an unequivocal island-wide ban, a principle theoretically everyone had to know before setting foot on the island.

Of course, Fu Qian didn’t think the vast majority of people paid it much mind.

Mostly because the likelihood of violating it was just too low.

Even the former Bai Jinting obviously wouldn’t climb to the top of the tower for no reason.

As for the clause forbidding concealment, it pushed the rule’s abstract nature to the absolute limit.

Since there wouldn’t even be any observers at that altitude in the first place, how could anyone violate the ban?

Not to mention, this also involved a difference in the penal mechanism.

It was different from the current real-time feedback, where the Law enforced things directly.

While the Archipelago of the past viewed the Codex as ironclad and genuinely enforced it, the executioners were ultimately human.

In other words, if someone secretly spat on the beach and wasn’t caught, they would not be subjected to Chastisement.

Therefore, to most people, these regulations were nothing more than empty platitudes meant to be heard and forgotten; there was no need to worry about them at all.

Only an individual like Fu Qian had found the self-consistency reflected within deeply interesting the very first time he read them.

And at the end of the mission, upon realizing the gaze of a higher entity was present, he developed an even deeper understanding. It wasn’t solely to display the King of the White Tower’s majesty. Whether it was the vain attempt to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a Deity or the act of dodging their gaze, either action was an offense to a higher entity.

As expected, many seemingly outrageous rules existed for a reason.

Right now, these supposedly meaningless clauses were even serving as a sharp weapon for Fu Qian to find his targets.

Hoisting his body to this height proved the White Tower Codex was still in effect on one hand, while on the other, it meant an observer was now present up here.

No matter what hide-and-seek tricks you employed, you had better turn yourself in quickly.

Otherwise, they would head down that old road again, bringing them right back to a Health Bar contest.

I am suffering the Law’s punishment for violating the ban, and you are no exception.

Sshk. As he gazed down, a fifth invisible needle pierced right through Fu Qian from head to toe, inflicting almost double the trauma of the first.

However, from the beginning until now, the ruins below remained completely devoid of movement.

Was his judgment truly wrong? Was the Two-Headed Demon not the foundation of this Divine Dream’s existence?

Fu Qian maintained the posture of a sovereign ruling the world, yet the scales were rapidly tipping.

Naturally, the dead silence below couldn’t prove anything in such a short amount of time.

But given the intellect of Old Man Lu and his companion, after being dragged into this situation, they should have figured out what needed to be done.

Competing in a bleeding match against an opponent who possessed a bottomless Health Bar despite a low Rank was undoubtedly unwise.

They should either make up their minds to truly run away, or chant a grand forbidden spell to try and thoroughly scatter his ashes to the wind.

Were they just going to keep lying on their stomachs, praying the other side gave up first?

Anyone who had witnessed Professor Fu’s style shouldn’t harbor such extravagant hopes.

Yet as needle after needle descended, Fu Qian felt as if his Ren and Du meridians had been physically blasted open—and there was still absolutely no reaction below.

Had they really left, leaving him trapped alone in this empty Divine Dream? Was that their true plan?

After all, misidentifying the source of the dream meant he couldn’t leave by destroying the Two-Headed Demon, and the Divine Dream was still very stable.

To most people, this was basically imprisonment in disguise—though this wasn’t what Fu Qian was worried about.

Even without revealing his true body, he still had too many ways to escape.

For example, the Resplendent Tyrant, the bane of dreams.

He only needed to keep it active and wait a little longer, and this wisp of a residual dream over the Archipelago would likely be wiped out completely.

But if he did that, the value of this Divine Dream would plummet drastically.

Aside from hoping something showed up during its destruction, he wouldn’t be able to squeeze out any more interesting intel.

It was nothing short of burning zithers and cooking cranes.

In short, the logic he had always favored seemed to have led matters to a dead end.

He had to either question his own brain, or accept that the Two-Headed Demon had nothing to do with the Divine Dream, tear this place down, and leave.

Of course, theoretically, he still had one last method before resorting to that. Not only could he transform into the King of the Abandoned Prison, but he could also directly activate the once-a-day Burial Scroll, taking on the perspective of a higher entity to thoroughly sweep this place with Insight.

Sigh. At that moment, Fu Qian didn’t activate it, nor did he transform. He merely let out a light sigh.

Amid the churning of numerous tentacles, his figure descended from the sky and slowly landed on the ground.

Under the boundless night, he made no further moves. He just stood there with his hands behind his back, gazing at a corner of the sky as if examining an invisible blood moon.

”Friendly reminder, it’s almost seven-fifty.”

Time ticked by, minute by minute. At a certain moment, Fu Qian suddenly spoke up, as if someone were right beside him.

”Hehehe—what are you looking at?”

And a voice actually responded to him, though it sounded like it was begging for a beating.