From the very beginning, Fu Qian hadn't expected that bringing Goya before the Abyssal Colt would reveal anything.
The reason he'd suggested coming down to take a look was simple: he wanted to see how Goya would react to a situation like this.
As the saying went, "Let the show begin."
Now it seemed that Goya was being quite cooperative, on the one hand, while on the other, things appeared to be heading in the worst possible direction.
After years of roaming Jianghu, Fu Qian had long since mastered the highest art of conversation: listen, but don't believe.
What Goya had just said carried some rather significant implications.
Based on his earlier deduction, fully accepting Pachi's influence over one's cognition was very likely the correct way to make a pact with the Abyssal Colt.
And past experience had taught him that once a pact was made, there was no going back.
So Goya was most likely lying about his inspiring life story.
Which raised the question: why was he telling this lie?
Given the mad-scientist persona he'd cultivated, when faced with an exceptionally rare case like Fu Qian—and even after suggesting they come see the "Abyssal Colt"—shouldn't he be paying close attention to Fu Qian's reaction?
Why was he rambling on about this nonsense?
Could he really be trying to convince the judges?
The most reasonable explanation for such obviously abnormal behavior was that he was saying all this on purpose, to test Fu Qian's reaction.
Fu Qian's earlier, deliberately ambiguous remarks had made him worry that certain secrets might be exposed.
This question made it far more likely that the Goya standing before him knew that a pact was irreversible.
"What a fascinating story!"
Facing Goya and the other man's stares, Fu Qian chose to respond to Goya's