Eldritch Horror Theatre - Ch. 130: Disorder
[Identity verification complete. Today's work begins.]
Magical as it was, after solving the stone lion problem via the Warehouse, Fu Qian didn't obsess over it.
There were simply too many possible theories, and the amount of information currently available was too small; jumping to conclusions was pointless.
Early the next morning, he entered the Warehouse as usual.
And this time, unprecedentedly, he found the Warehouse completely quiet.
A lot of unusual things have been happening lately. Does this mean I get to slack off today?
Or maybe just clock in and log out?
Fu Qian clicked his tongue in wonder, casually glancing at the spot where the stone lion had been pulverized yesterday.
By now, there wasn't a single trace left on the ground; even the stone powder had vanished.
[Warning, Containment Breach.]
Just as Fu Qian was pondering what posture to adopt for slacking off, the familiar voice rang out.
[Name: Disorder, Code: 1-019]
[Today's work details updated: Enter the Containment Scene of 1-019 and re-establish containment.]
So it was just running late?
And it really is giving me a surprise—just when I was getting ready to slack off, you drop a Level-1 item on me?
Fu Qian looked straight ahead. A patch of thin mist had slowly formed, and the sensation of his soul being drawn out washed over him.
[Entering 1-019 Containment Scene]
[...4%...6%...10%...18%...34%...66%...100%, Containment Scene loading complete]
[Current Sanity Value: 131, Current Inspiration: 36]
That's it?
The voice in his ear stopped abruptly, and Fu Qian couldn't help but frown.
This isn't right. The information is way too sparse!
Having absolutely no background introduction is one thing, but shouldn't there at least be an objective?
Recalling the difficulty of his previous Level-1 item mission, Fu Qian had a vague premonition of dread.
At that moment, his vision swirled, and his five senses returned.
Opening his eyes, Fu Qian found himself in a dimly lit room.
The room wasn't large, less than twenty square meters, and looked incredibly old.
Right now, he was sitting in one of the corners, resting on a hard stone slab.
To his right was what looked like an extremely heavy metal door.
The other three walls were dull gray and completely windowless.
Could this mission be a prison break?
That was Fu Qian's first reaction.
For no other reason than the room's design was entirely too classic; no matter how you sliced it, it was a prison cell.
He immediately looked down at himself, but there were no handcuffs or shackles.
However... the next moment, Fu Qian made an unexpected discovery.
His exposed arms and hands were currently emitting an unusually ghastly pallor, looking almost non-human.
This is...
Fu Qian was a bit bewildered. This chalky whiteness, like he was coated in fluorescent powder, had practically left the realm of humanity, right? Could I already be dead?
Thinking of something, Fu Qian pointed at the ground and rubbed his fingers together.
No Air Bullet appeared.
Just as I thought!
Not only did it fail to give him a mission objective just now, but there was also no prompt for skill selection.
The facts proved his skills were currently disabled, meaning he was now no different from an ordinary person.
Actually, it was worse than that.
Fu Qian threw a punch and found his strength and speed were quite mediocre, likely falling short of even an average person.
This Level-1 item is seriously wicked!
It had been a long time since he experienced this feeling of being a level-one newbie.
Both the walls and the floor looked incredibly sturdy. Under these circumstances, brute-forcing his way out was nearly impossible.
Fu Qian carefully observed his surroundings and noticed a massive, black oil lamp in the center of the room.
The oil lamp had an archaic design, covered by a giant, yellowed glass shade that bore faint traces of bloodstains.
Right now, it was emitting a dim, yellow glow. The light was incredibly faint and seemed like it could go out at any second.
However, this was the only light source in the room.
As he was examining it, a noise came from the doorway, and the iron door was slowly slid to the side.
The next moment, a figure with a highly exaggerated appearance stood outside the door.
The person was exceptionally tall, draped completely in a black robe, and wore an iron-black mask over their face.
In one hand, they held a bizarre-looking weapon covered in barbs at the end, while the other hand carried a brass pitcher.
The prison guard? That's quite an eerie getup!
Without making a single sound, the figure glided into the room.
Completely ignoring Fu Qian, the guard turned their back, reached out, and pulled up the heavy glass lampshade.
Next, they lifted the brass pitcher and slowly poured out a trickle of pale green oil.
The oil lamp brightened at a visible rate.
In that instant, Fu Qian felt his skin turn even whiter.
Only when the guard left did Fu Qian stand up from the ground and take a couple of steps forward.
Almost immediately, he felt the heat in his body draining rapidly, and his consciousness blurred slightly.
There's something weird about the oil lamp!
Fu Qian realized instantly and quickly retreated back into the corner.
This thing seemed to be accelerating his death.
No wonder he had woken up crouching in the corner; he must have been trying to hide from it.
[Current task updated: Attempt to terminate the colorless state.]
Just then, a prompt rang in his ear.
Terminate the colorless state?
Fu Qian looked at his body; it was likely referring to his current condition.
The specific emphasis on "current" meant there would likely be new tasks later.
Unlike before, where he was given an ultimate objective right away, this felt a bit like a guided quest chain.
That's fine; I'll take it one step at a time.
Fu Qian wasn't too bothered. Having a goal was better than having none.
After adding the oil, the lamp's effect became noticeably stronger. Even in the corner, the sensation of heat draining persisted.
The casing of the oil lamp was extremely durable. In his current state, breaking it barehanded was near impossible.
Fu Qian scanned the room and, hugging the wall, headed straight for another corner of the cell.
The room was practically empty, with barely anything in it.
Aside from himself, the most conspicuous thing was a skeleton sitting with its arms hugging its knees in another corner.
The skeleton had clearly been dead for a long time; the surface of the bones was even beginning to weather.
Fu Qian crouched down and inspected it from top to bottom.
There's something in its hands!
He soon discovered that the skeleton's hands were tightly clasped together, and something was held between its jagged finger bones.
Wasting no time, Fu Qian reached out and tried to pry the hands apart.
Ah!!!
Right then, a heart-wrenching howl erupted from within the skeleton's skull.
A sudden shriek in a dark space.
This classic horror movie trope was an enduringly effective jump scare.
However, halfway through its scream, the sound came to an abrupt halt—Fu Qian had already clamped a firm grip over the skeleton's jaw.
Too bad I'm not who I used to be!
Fu Qian sighed silently.
It wasn't that he hadn't been startled at all, but ever since becoming a humanoid weapon, his response to threats had leaned increasingly toward attacking rather than fleeing.
Even in his current weakened state, that action just now had been practically pure instinct.
Could this be the legendary heart of the strong?
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