Chapter 2940: Grave Crime

Night, Shangjing.

The Second-Hand Church. The twelfth day counting down to the apocalypse.

They say giving someone a rose leaves a lingering fragrance on your hands. Did giving away a wild rose do the same?

Having returned from the Bottom Layer of the Dream, Fu Qian took a moment to sigh at life.

Regardless, the ostensible protagonist of the night was still Excellency Serana.

As the man who had single-handedly orchestrated it all, he hadn't actually expected to gain anything.

To his mild surprise, the Red Moon—which finally seemed to have stabilized—had gifted him an incredible piece of intelligence in return.

Were there really only twelve days left?

After holding out for nineteen years and three months, could the Warehouse hold on no longer?

Yes. If this countdown from thirteen to twelve wasn't just some delusion born of coincidence, then his previous mission in Demon Mountain had undoubtedly been the Warehouse actively issuing a warning.

Although that place was strictly Annalise's territory, the woman had been reduced to crawling on the ground. She most likely couldn't have pulled off that kind of numbers game.

When his suspicions had been raised back then, he had run through several possibilities, including whether there were only thirteen missions left. But now, without him having undertaken a new mission, the number had dropped by one. The situation had undoubtedly arrived at the worst possible scenario—

Was it really like the Sanitarium? Was this calculated in days?

Would some endpoint arrive in less than two weeks?

Based on his ongoing research into the nature of the missions, this looked exactly like a sign that the Warehouse was collapsing from exhaustion.

So was the letter sent to him practically the Warehouse's dying note?

It was heavy news, though that didn't stop Fu Qian from silently complaining about it.

Based on his previous analysis, the Warehouse's operational model involved forcing history to move in its desired direction. It would even make unreasonable, direct decrees, completely disregarding how the humans or Gods involved might struggle.

The administrator's job was to fill in the intermediary processes. As long as they didn't violate the fundamental principles, they could alter certain historical details as needed.

Therefore, it was entirely imaginable that without an administrator putting out fires behind the scenes, the Warehouse's energy consumption would be absurd.

The problem was that, up to this point, he had put out forty-eight fires in a row, yet the Warehouse still hadn't caught its breath and was preparing to die of exhaustion in twelve days?

If he hadn't signed the Work Badge back then, had the Warehouse been planning to drop dead that very day?

Through multiple private chats with his predecessors, Fu Qian felt he already had some understanding of how awful the work environment was, but wasn't this a bit too terrible?

"It really was a success. Her condition looks quite good," Old Man Henry said.

Like a carefree tuxedo cat that knew no sorrow, Old Man Henry was clearly unaware of the approaching number. He simply followed Fu Qian's gaze and agreed the surgery had been a success.

...

"Looks like she still needs some time. I wonder if there's any tea here," Fu Qian said.

Admittedly, the word "surgery" mainly applied to the Red Moon.

Serana's gains were merely incidental; she was essentially just a tool who had basked in the reflected light.

But Fu Qian accepted the Old Man's approval without any guilt, taking the opportunity to suggest they have some tea.

Tier 2, and she hadn't gone mad. With Serana's constitution as a Third-Generation Blood, taking a trip to a place like that and achieving this was no easy feat.

That included the Cord Blood transferred to her at the end. Although its exact effects were uncertain, it had at least been purified by him first.

Of course, heaven helps those who help themselves. Serana hadn't clung stubbornly to the Blood Clan's dogma; choosing to tell him part of the ritual was a major reason she was ultimately able to achieve this.

All in all, not only was she back on the high platform, but under the gaze of his Vision Radar, Serana had undergone a qualitative leap.

Perhaps the only problem was that, for the moment, it was hard to recognize her as Serana. It was even more exaggerated than her previous completely decayed state; the Serana on the high platform right now barely possessed a human shape.

Not only had all the skin on her body burst open long ago, but she didn't even have a head or limbs. Her entire body had curled up into an irregular puddle.

And this puddle was composed almost entirely of one thing: tangled dark red strips.

It reminded him of when they first met, when she had been entangled by tentacles and hoisted into the air—a scene that was practically unbroadcastable.

Of course, for Fu Qian, who had been to the Bottom Layer of the Dream, even though those strips looked very different from an Umbilical Cord, he understood that this wasn't a cheap imitation, but a projection of the Blood Nova.

As expected, the Old Doctor's IV infusion at the end had helped complete the final step.

It was just that, compared to the name Annalise, the higher power Serana corresponded to as a Divine Emissary was now a relatively pure Blood Nova.

And it seemed the Red Moon would be able to take over and digest this legacy of Annalise's. Rounding things out, had he finally found a new Progenitor for the Blood Clan?

Of course, he could still tell that the Divine Path woven by Annalise retained a certain structure.

For example, aside from the familiar blood-red color, close observation revealed that the Umbilical Cords on Serana's body were tangled in a way that formed eye-like patterns.

Although they were quite abstract overall, Fu Qian was certain that if someone with a weaker constitution stared at them for even a few seconds, they would feel terrible.

"There probably isn't any... but I think we can go check the side hall over there," Chief Yuan said.

She served as a perfect example of his theory, standing up before she even finished speaking.

Fu Qian didn't think she was actually being that diligent. The main reason she was being so accommodating was probably that she simply couldn't sit there any longer.

Even as she spoke, her eyes hadn't looked toward the high platform.

"That shouldn't be a problem."

Facing the inquiring gaze Old Man Henry cast his way, Fu Qian nodded, signaling that there was no need to keep such a tight guard here.

...

Ugh—

Upon returning to the familiar side hall, Chief Yuan immediately covered her mouth and made a retching motion.

Along with this motion, a long object was actually pulled from her mouth.

It was a dark red-and-black mix, slender but unbranched, looking like a blood vessel that had parasitized her body. It even tried to drill back inside to keep suckling.

Unfortunately for it, it was quickly entangled by a black band, thoroughly losing its vitality and dissolving into rotted flesh.

"I felt like my blood was flowing into her just now."

Those were Chief Yuan's first words after catching her breath, spoken with a faint sigh.

Just as he had noted earlier, staring at Serana while she was still stabilizing had placed a tremendous pressure on her.

"It's too absurd. How exactly did you do it?"

However, she didn't pay much attention to her own health issues. Clearly, what shocked her the most was Professor Fu's feat.

He ordered an advancement, and she actually advanced? That was Tier 2!

Back then, Ambor had spared no effort and even risked the entire clan just to seek out a single chance...

"I just neutralized the grave crime her Progenitor committed."

Fu Qian answered casually, his eyes looking out the small window.

The night wasn't too dark, but there was no trace of the Red Moon. It seemed it truly was temporarily exhausted.