In the bar, everyone was partying wildly. Neon lights spun, feet stomped, hair swung.
Everyone was venting their dissatisfaction with life and their terror of the Wasteland.
They were unwilling to live obediently in the Nine Stars District for a few decades before dying, so they came to the Wasteland in search of miracles. Yet in this land of miracles, they constantly felt immense fear.
People were just that conflicted.
Horror movies were obviously scary, yet the scarier they were, the more people watched them.
In short, they sucked at it but loved playing anyway.
So they chose alcohol and dancing to numb their fear.
All of a sudden, the bar fell silent.
Because the door had opened.
Countless gusts of wind and sheets of rain came in with it.
Amid the howling wind and torrential rain, a man in a cloak and a Clown Mask walked in.
"Clown?"
The quick-witted bartender immediately ducked beneath the bar.
One of the laws: no matter how fierce the fight in a bar became, under the bar was always the safest place.
Everyone looked at one another.
"Oh, sorry. Did my arrival spoil everyone's fun?" Clown said with a smile.
His voice was extremely childish, still that of a child before puberty. It was obvious at a glance that he could not possibly be older than nine.
Yet he was clearly over six feet three, undeniably a large man.
"N-No, Little Teacher," said the drunkard closest to him, trembling.
He felt immense terror from the other man.
Anyone who could survive in a Wasteland bar would have died long ago if their instincts were not sharp.
"Oh, in that case, allow me to introduce our Heavenly Father and Savior, Cthulhu."
Everyone froze. Someone prepared to jump out the window and flee.
But in