All right, that more or less confirmed the current situation. This wasn't a malicious gaze from some higher being, and the odds that the Witch was involved had grown a little higher.
Fu Qian wasn't surprised by the result.
Of course, it had also confirmed the countdown to his death.
What's more, the moment he put on the head cage, he could feel the rate at which the special negative effects accumulated on him surge after he'd entered this world through the Extreme Hunger Infection.
As expected of something produced by the Nightmare Corridor. There was clearly some sort of resonance effect.
Yet Fu Qian still didn't take off the head cage. Instead, he picked up the Blasphemous Embrace beside him, even taking the opportunity to clean up the floor.
He'd said he was coming in for a shift, after all. He still had to do his duty.
Once he'd finished, Fu Qian didn't linger. With his haul in hand, he sauntered downstairs.
The night remained deep and dark, but the atmosphere at the art gallery was noticeably tenser than when he'd arrived.
It seemed the effects of the prisoner's one-second jailbreak had indeed reached this place.
The most obvious sign was that, although there was still no Saint stationed here, Fu Qian spotted his old teammate Reginald, whom he'd recently accompanied on two expeditions into the Nightmare Corridor.
Reginald was clearly in a poor mood. He was directing the search of the art gallery with a cold expression, repeatedly emphasizing the key points:
First, do not split up. Second, search only for signs of abnormalities. If you find anything, report it immediately. Avoid any kind of confrontation.
After gaining a deeper understanding of the situation tonight, the cult had clearly raised its danger rating significantly.
At the same