Chapter 686: Chapter 684 Time to Eat (Part 1)_1 Chapter 686: Chapter 684 Time to Eat (Part 1)_1 [Identity verification complete, today’s work begins]
[Warning, leak accident]
Shortly after the Return Edict was activated, Fu Qian directly removed his mask and entered the warehouse.
And immediately, the familiar prompts surged in.
Clearly, the warehouse wasn’t about to give him a day off on the last day.
[Name: Horse Leg, ID: 2-155]
[Today’s task has been updated: Enter the containment scene of 2-155 and complete re-containment]
[Current SAN Points: 106, Current Inspiration: 99]
A level 2 item? I thought I might be tasked with taking myself out.
Amidst his musings, Fu Qian’s attention shifted to the mask beside him.
After a round of scrubbing by the Return Edict, the mask now looked shiny and clean, without a trace of blood to be seen.
The next time I put it on, I shouldn’t have to worry about sending myself back to Shangjing, forced to buy another boat ticket.
The reason I thought I might be tasked with containing myself is because, considering the warehouse has always wanted to cover up the Kagetsu Kana incident, what I’d done before was quite counterproductive.
However, it seems my probing hasn’t received a response, and the warehouse doesn’t appear to be considering turning me into inventory just yet.
[Due to scene restrictions, you cannot carry any equipment or weapons]
There’s something , too?
With the new prompt, Fu Qian felt curious as he selected and confirmed all his Skills.
Considering the carrying limit he had never touched before, Fu Qian now pressed zero with his eyes closed for any item or skill.
Nevertheless, this was the first time he’d encountered such individual item restrictions, arousing curiosity about what sort of novel scene it could be.
As he pondered, the scene before his eyes changed rapidly.
[Entering 2-155 containment scene]
[…1%…5%…15%…45%…75%…95%…100%, containment scene loading complete]
[This is an ordinary corner, a part of a bustling city.
Yet beneath the tranquil facade hides a special research facility.
Here, the ambitious are full of resolve, attempting to analyze and decipher everything.
In the eyes of these mad pursuers, nothing is beyond use, everything has its price, even Transcendent powers.
Regrettably, what they do not know is that their so-called deciphering is pitifully laughable before the true power.
Pretentious and clumsy imitations only lead to tragedy]
Just as his senses returned, Fu Qian heard a voice in front of him, sounding like a doctor conducting an examination.
Is it really a doctor?
The next moment, Fu Qian looked at the person who had appeared before him, a man in a white lab coat with glasses.
He seemed to be in his forties, sitting behind a metal table, eyes slightly narrowed as he looked at him.
Though the question seemed caring about his condition, the approach was somewhat cold.
Despite being unsure of the current situation, Fu Qian answered quickly.
This wasn’t nonsense; compared to the last task, waking up inside an instrument full of sharp spikes, this certainly qualified as ‘not too bad.’
As he responded, Fu Qian also took the opportunity to check himself out.
At that moment, he seemed to understand why the warehouse wouldn’t allow him to bring any items along.
Right now, he was dressed in an orange uniform.
Conspicuous, bulky, and without any sense of tailoring, it screamed ‘cannon fodder.’
A cannon fodder character with rings on every finger and even wearing an iron cage on his head would indeed seem a bit ostentatious.
However, as compensation, the warehouse did do something.
At this very moment, Fu Qian could feel that his presence seemed to be concealed by some special means, without having used any items.
The cold-faced Demon Doctor’s eyes sparkled behind his glasses, as he stared at Fu Qian for a few seconds before slapping a piece of paper towards him from the side.
“What time is it now?”
Fu Qian glanced behind the man and reported the time.
There was a palm-sized digital clock there, with no decoration whatsoever.
“Good, now draw it on the paper in the form of a clock.”
The moment he received this instruction, Fu Qian couldn’t help but want to look in a mirror.
To draw a clock–it was a check on his mental state, right?
He naturally thought of his alias, Darcy.
So, playing the role of a cannibalistic psychopath too much reaps retribution, huh?
Despite his complaints, Fu Qian’s hands were steady as he took the paper and pen and in one swoop, drew a clock as perfect as if he’d used a compass.
This skill obviously shocked the Demon Doctor sitting across the desk; he found himself sitting up straight, staring intently at Fu Qian’s actions.
Under such scrutiny, Fu Qian was unapologetic, and soon a laser-printer-perfect clock sprang forth on the paper.
By the time Fu Qian put down the pen, the Demon Doctor was eagerly snatching the drawing away.
After silently observing it for a while, he looked somewhat complex and finally took a pen from the side and swiftly left a mark on it.
The moment these four digits entered his field of vision, Fu Qian felt an all-too-familiar pang of annoyance.
This should be his code number, right? Indeed, evildoings do lead to self-destruction!
Not too long ago, he had just created a project for Kagetsu Kana, and now, he was having the tables turned on him.
That’s right, he had realized just moments before that he definitely wasn’t some ordinary patient receiving psychological counseling, nor was he part of any humanitarian effort in prison.
He knew from his senses that outside this moderately-sized room, there was a lineup of people who looked just like himself, waiting their turn.
Combining this with the earlier mission briefing, the situation had become quite clear.
As part of a mysterious research institute, he and those outside, like him, were being used as probes for “ambitious individuals.”
After contact with something, he was now being assessed for his psychological state.
So was the item they had encountered this “Horse Leg” technology?
Fu Qian was quite struck by the name.
And following the Demon Doctor’s press of the intercom button, the door was promptly pushed open.
Two tall, burly men dressed in black uniforms walked up to Fu Qian, indicating that he should stand up from the chair.
Going with the flow, Fu Qian cooperated smoothly, following the guards as they moved forward.
The exit route seemed to be deliberately designed, not encountering any other personnel along the way, until at last Fu Qian was brought to a door.
One guard opened the door, while the other, without uttering a word, gestured for Fu Qian to enter.
As the door closed behind him, Fu Qian casually surveyed his surroundings.
This was a room about the same size as the previous one, also metallic in structure, but even more barren–there wasn’t even a table or a chair, let alone a clock.
Yet, looking at the silver-white walls, Fu Qian quietly recalled the Demon Doctor’s movements as he left.
Watching him depart, the man pondered over two piles of reports before ultimately placing them onto the thinner stack.
So he was indeed categorized as abnormal?