Duanmu Huai wasn't a sensitive person.
Put simply, he wasn't good at reading people's expressions. Then again, given Duanmu Huai's strength and appearance, he had no need to read others' expressions. More often than not, it was others who had to read his. After all, if they made Duanmu Huai unhappy, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Even so, Duanmu Huai could tell that something was off about the atmosphere here.
Strictly speaking, something being off was normal. After all, everyone had seen a hanged corpse with their own eyes—and it had just died, fresh and warm at that. It was also the corpse of someone they knew. Their emotions were bound to be shaken, but seeing the director and the staff looking as though they were about to fight still put Duanmu Huai on alert. He had noticed that the two of them were getting unusually worked up. How should he put it... if this weren't the Cthulhu World, Duanmu Huai would have suspected they were about to shout, "Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
Indeed, in Duanmu Huai's eyes, the two men's reactions were no different from seeing followers of the God of Tyranny.
Could the enemy this time be psychic in nature?
If so, Duanmu Huai would be in a bit of trouble. He hated things he couldn't see or touch, and besides, he wasn't good at mental attacks.
The only mental attack he could think of was turning on Thousand Howls and singing Sunny Rainbow White Pony.
Still, Duanmu Huai wasn't completely without options. He simply didn't really want to use that method.
Thinking of this, Duanmu Huai sighed inwardly. Then he stared at the unconscious director, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
Quality Judgment!
This was the first—and only—skill Duanmu