One purpose of stepping forward to exchange pleasantries had been passive defense: to prevent the Old Man on the hospital bed from accidentally erupting into darkness and bringing Judgment Day forward once again.
But what Unyielding Man said did make some sense. If Fu Qian had not stepped forward to provoke him, the risk might not actually have been that great.
So that action he could not understand had indeed served another purpose for Fu Qian: observing his reaction.
From handling things with ease and steering the situation at the beginning, to his eyes turning red and nearly attacking just now, Unyielding Man had clearly suffered quite a bit.
And it was not entirely because he was inferior in skill. Not just anyone could keep up with the ultimate technique of a two-man act combined with repeated sudden reversals.
With one side being a columnist and the other a director, he had practically become the arena for some kind of contest. Being thoroughly battered was almost inevitable.
But regardless of whether the director's original intention had been to have fun, tormenting someone else's mind had never been Fu Qian's main objective.
He had said it from the start: the reason for all that wild swaying had been to test the director's "limits of operation."
And during that process, Fu Qian seemed to have discovered something interesting—the director might have a split personality too?
By now, it was almost certain that Unyielding Man, who had guided him all this way, was an emergency measure the director had rapidly arranged after discovering Fu Qian's idea for the two-man act.
Yet through the pressure of successive reversals, it became apparent that this person's own attitude was complicated as well.
On one hand, he did not want Fu Qian to board the train and