Chapter 1749 - 1744: Bitter Fruit (38)
Chapter 1749: Chapter 1744: Bitter Fruit (38)
Only outsiders? How particular.
Although Fu Qian didn’t think Dorian’s choice was due to any sense of regional kinship.
"Local people cannot be converted into dolls this way?"
Don’t forget, the containment conditions specifically mention the identity of the natives.
For Akons, they clearly have a different significance than the outsiders.
So, in Fu Qian’s view, this differential treatment is more likely due to objective limitations.
"Yes...I can imitate them to make dolls directly based on my observations, and the dolls might even establish some connection with the original person, but the dream has no effect on the people themselves—it’s just an ordinary dream."
As expected, Dorian immediately confirmed it, indicating he had obviously tried it before.
"Got it, then what about that?"
Without making a moral judgment, Fu Qian motioned towards the window with his chin.
Although it was bright outside, he believed this Transcender of the Akons could completely understand what he was referring to.
"It... I’m not sure if it really exists."
Not disappointing, Dorian not only understood but quickly responded after a moment of thought.
Unfortunately, compared to ordinary people, his higher-level observation yielded a much more ambiguous answer.
"Through the dream, I can indeed perceive more than others, and because of this, I can confirm that some disappearances didn’t result from attacks—they just vanished."
"As for the screams, you must have noticed there are hardly any mentally sound people left here?"
Dorian looked at Fu Qian, bleakly expressing pessimism about the situation in Cold Mountain.
"That’s true."
Recalling his journey, Fu Qian wholeheartedly agreed with this viewpoint.
"For such a group of people, acting out bizarrely isn’t strange."
Dorian sneered coldly and then abruptly switched his tone.
"Of course, at the same time, there are indeed exceptions among them, who seem to have experienced horrifying torment before disappearing."
"But even so, I have never actually seen ’it.’ I could only roughly summarize a pattern—particularly strict rules."
"For example, it only appears at night, never enters a room, tortures its target for a long time before killing...and leaves no trace once daylight comes."
"Moreover, it never actively enters my dreams."
...
Truly extraordinary.
Though Dorian’s description was somewhat abstract, Fu Qian could easily understand why he reached such a conclusion for now.
Sometimes, the more information you have, the less you dare to make rash conclusions.
An elusive presence, never seen face-to-face, as brutal as it is inhumanly mechanical in its actions, is indeed formidable.
However, there is a small issue here.
"But has it not passively appeared in your dreams more than once?"
Fu Qian blinked.
The expert and comprehensive manipulation within the healing dreams couldn’t possibly be the first operation.
And most people wouldn’t be as uncooperative as he was.
"Correct."
Dorian, indeed, did not deny his own behavior.
"And this time the figure I saw was quite specific, even the weapon had a name—Broken. That should not have been you naming it, right?"
Recalling the guise of the ash bath from before, Fu Qian continued to inquire.
"Of course not...I can’t induce to that extent. The only concept I can provide is a terrifying creature roaming Akons’ night."
Unable to resist looking up, even in this situation, Dorian could not suppress a hint of surprise.
"But you brought up a noteworthy point. With such vague information, each person shared in the dream imagined the exact same figure, no differences at all."
The acuity shown by the other was noticeably too much to conceal anything.
"This fact led me to suspect more strongly that it truly exists and that our actions might have summoned it, allowing part of its power to project here."
"Though before you, no one had communicated with it..."
...
"A reasonable deduction."
Though the information wasn’t detailed, considering Doctor Dorian’s immense psychological pressure, Fu Qian naturally couldn’t be too critical.
And it was evident that he had given this matter considerable thought himself.
Yet, despite being a mere detail, it wasn’t a definitive proof.
But the fact that entirely different dream subjects imagined such a consistent result, there should be a reason to consider, and the concept of projection held some merit.
"You can’t participate in this process?"
Of course, Fu Qian didn’t forget to keep verifying details.
"I can’t. It is indeed my dream, but my form of existence is quite unique, akin to management without participation—all actions need to be conducted by other characters."
Dorian admitted with ease.
"Understood. Another small question, if you’re killed in the dream, what happens? It’s unlikely you’d be lucky enough to just wake up, right?"
"No... the dream would restart without the previous memory, but the fear would persist."
...
No wonder he holds the reputation of a divine healer, as his treatment plan is truly flawless.
Death cannot bring escape; everything restarts and carries over the fear of being murdered.
Even the strongest will can be crushed through such repeated experiences, making one crave embrace.
It makes sense, and with Doctor Dorian’s help, it seems possible to finally sketch an outline of Akons.
But there’s an important question here—the main issue seems completely stagnant?
This treatment session appears not to have achieved core results for me?
The opportunity to break boundaries and truly touch Akons?
Surely, the dream contained incredible things, some almost as divine beings.
But just like the evaluations within, their own existence doesn’t transcend—it’s a mere projection of chaotic reality.
And the white-faced man, upon whom both Dorian and I pinned high hopes, finally showed up after much anticipation, only to underperform spectacularly.
Not only was his ranking far below the previous ones, but upon attempting to harness a bit of inner potential, he couldn’t withstand it and exploded and died.
Overall, glancing back from the onset of the mission to now, all my efforts seem only to demonstrate the mission’s insolubility.
No matter how much I struggle, it seems I’m destined to be trapped in this self-entertainment parallel universe until failure grimly arrives.
Is it really so—of course not, the failure prompt hasn’t even appeared yet.
In the case of a pseudo-impasse, perhaps a purely logical deduction, defying human nature, might be worth a try.