Eldritch Horror Theatre

It was perfectly normal.

Vision—a word repeatedly emphasized throughout this journey.

His excellency the Master truly gave off a mysterious impression. Prior to this, his name hadn’t even been heard of, and nearly every aspect of him was completely unknown.

Combined with his deep ambiguity since the welcome ceremony, predicting his actions theoretically should have been quite difficult.

But the essence never strayed far from its source; certain core traits were hard to change, such as his previously mentioned level of courage.

Just as Ibu realized the Master was likely much stronger than he appeared, Fu Qian had already leaned toward the conclusion—via the paradox—that the man was far beyond the Mid Tier.

Because of this, his so-called act of pulling chestnuts from the fire hadn’t actually been a tragic, desperate risk. From start to finish, Ibu had posed almost no threat to him.

Why would a character like that easily surrender an advantage he already held?

The Master was clearly intimately familiar with the White Tower Codex; he even wielded it as subtly as silently nourishing all things.

This meant that regardless of who he faced, as long as they were enveloped by the Codex, it was practically his home turf.Perhaps the current situation was highly unusual, with the boundary between the Laboratory and the Archipelago seemingly erased.

But without testing it, how could he know for sure that the Codex would remain one hundred percent effective inside the Laboratory’s boundaries?

That was where vision truly showed itself. If their positions were reversed, Old Man Ibu might have charged in to test the waters.

Despite his outstanding strength, the Master had preferred to cower in the back from the very beginning, using others as cannon fodder. He was highly unlikely to take even this small risk.

Therefore, the probability of him making his move before the boat reached the restricted zone was extraordinarily high.

Of course, the manner of his strike still possessed a certain flair.

”Two people cannot stand at the bow of the boat together at night.” This phrasing, straight out of rules-based weird tales, couldn’t help but evoke the old proverb, ”two people do not look down a well together.” Was it just to prevent someone from being kicked overboard?

Regardless, he had exploited this information gap, cleverly tricking Ibu into violating the Codex and suffering Chastisement, ostensibly stripping a Demigod of his ability to resist in an instant.

He even had a perfect grasp of character. He knew Ibu didn’t care much for the Codex and its rules. If it had been Bai Jinting, even without resorting to Overthinking, he probably would have subconsciously avoided the situation.

Furthermore, neither of them showed any obvious external trauma. It seemed the Codex’s methods of Chastisement were quite varied.

And the Master seemed to have a masterful grasp over these unwritten details—

The fact that his mobility appeared completely unaffected was proof enough.

”So if he isn’t the Master, who could he be?”

As if a Sea-Calming Divine Needle had been planted beneath it, the small boat remained stubbornly motionless amid the wind and waves.

Patches didn’t mind the situation at all; he simply followed the flow of their conversation and asked the question.

”He could be.”

The question seemed a bit demanding. After all, Fu Qian didn’t even know the real name behind the Master’s fake identity.

However, sticking to his habit of providing answers to questions, he indicated that there was no need to jump to conclusions.

”Isn’t it perfectly normal for an expert to have a few alternate identities?”

One’s thinking couldn’t be rigid. Why assume that just because this person was unbelievably strong, he couldn’t possibly be the Master?

All big shots loved using an alternate persona—that was a life lesson imparted by Dean Cas.

At least in Fu Qian’s eyes, this alternate persona as the Rebirth Club’s Employee No. 001 was a pretty good one.

”Makes sense—so if he’s the Master, who else is he?”

Patches was being far too agreeable today. He actually rephrased the question, though it remained just as tricky.

”I’m leaning toward a mutual acquaintance of ours. The one I robbed a book from last time, whose name you actually gave me.”

Fu Qian remained as accommodating as ever, offering an answer while gesturing to sketch out the shape of a heavy, ancient tome.

”The Record of True Transcription.”

Patches supplied the name for him. His gaze fell upon the Master, and he reached out to make a grabbing motion once again.

Rip!

Like a painted skin being torn away, the bizarre sound was accompanied by clear liquid splashing out from the Master’s entire body.

His originally plump physique tore open, revealing another silhouette beneath.

A yellow, beardless face without a single strand of hair, his skin textured like piled gravel—it was indeed a familiar figure.

Brother Sha Ming, it had been a long time since they parted ways in West Plain.

”It really is him? It seems the term ’two-faced’ fits him perfectly—did you know back then?”

Patches finally revealed a look of surprise. Recalling Fu Qian’s initial evaluation, he sighed in admiration.

”You didn’t know?”

Fu Qian shot him a cold sideways glance. Even the awe of an Ancient Higher Being failed to provide him with any emotional satisfaction.

Regardless of how realistic his tone sounded, Patches was the one who had just casually reached out and yanked the man’s disguise off, and his perception wasn’t locked at zero like Fu Qian’s.

If Patches couldn’t even recognize someone he’d seen not too long ago, he really had no business being here.

”I was just playing along with you. It was a wonderful performance.”

Sure enough, Patches reverted to his usual chuckling demeanor in a single second.

”Your current condition feels rather unique. Recognizing people shouldn’t be that easy for you. How did you confirm it was him?”

This was exactly why one couldn’t afford to harbor any illusions of luck in front of an expert. The other party had actually spotted his perception issue at a single glance?

At first listen, Patches’s question sounded like praise, but its underlying subtext was terrifying.

Without even exchanging blows, he had already noticed that the Mechanical King of the Abandoned Prison’s perception was currently sitting at zero.

”I wasn’t entirely certain; it was just highly probable.”

Marveling inwardly, Fu Qian answered Patches’s testing question.

”Someone more interested in Law than limb grafting, who uses special methods to conceal his Rank, lacks the courage to lead and prefers making others charge into battle, and most importantly, truly possesses the ability in this domain to guide the Codex into reactivating—I don’t know many people who fit that description.”

Ticking the points off on his fingers, Fu Qian admitted this was simply the advantage of being a shut-in.

These reasons weren’t just cobbled together blindly; this had truly been his train of thought all along.

The previous incident in West Plain had concluded with him snatching the Record of Honored Truth for safekeeping.

Although Brother Sha Ming had successfully escaped with his life, he had mentioned back then that the situation he was about to face might be quite difficult.

On one hand, he had lost a precious artifact like the Record of Honored Truth. On the other, he had to guard against whatever methods the Needle Witch might employ out of fear that her secrets would be exposed.

As for running back to hole up in the Archipelago, thinking about it now, it was unexpected yet made perfect sense.

Before the White Tower Codex was profaned, it had, after all, been recognized by a higher entity.

For someone walking the path of Law, it wasn’t impossible for it to hold some value in Turning Waste into Treasure.

However, if the Master’s identity was truly an alternate persona and not just a disguise, his excellency Sha Ming’s actions couldn’t help but make one frown.

A dignified leader of the Rebirth Club abandoned limb grafting to study precepts instead?

And his so-called excursions weren’t for scavenging limbs everywhere, but to scheme for the Golden Tree over in West Plain?

In short, wasn’t it all a bit absurd—wait, how was it absurd?

The other leader of the Rebirth Club seemed to have been doing the exact same thing.