Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 2175: Chapter 2170: Confinement (44)

"No problem."

Though puzzled as to why Fu Qian left and returned, it was clear Maggie was indeed, as Huck said, like an observer in a breakfast shop.

Two unfamiliar and young faces immediately caught her attention.

"Order whatever you like."

Having understood Fu Qian’s meaning, Maggie smiled and nodded, gesturing towards Emily and her companion.

Not surprising, considering Huck might indeed be interested, and just being a new officer, there’s no need to worry about the risk of not paying.

"The pancakes here are pretty good. If they have them, you can try them later."

As a regular customer, Fu Qian even helped recommend some dishes.

"Aren’t you staying here to watch us?"

However, Emily didn’t seem too appreciative and was instead triggered by his choice of words.

"No, if I eat here, someone might spit in my food."

Fu Qian actually shook his head and glanced to the side.

"Don’t slander me; I wouldn’t let my personal likes and dislikes affect my work."

Zhen, who had been busy the whole time without looking over, finally turned her head for the first time.

She spat in strong protest but did not deny having personal feelings involved.

"I was impolite this morning, please don’t take it to heart."

Though skeptical about her excuse, Fu Qian didn’t dwell on whether there would be spit and straightforwardly apologized.

"Also, when it comes to rating popular service staff, Huck and I have similar tastes."

The next moment, he even continued to express his appreciation for Zhen.

...

"Have you met Rachel?"

Fu Qian went out for a spin, and unexpectedly, came back with a complete change in demeanor. Zhen was taken aback for a moment before realizing what was happening.

"Yes, and her creations too."

Speaking honestly, Fu Qian recalled Rachel’s state when he left.

I must say that her slightly crazy look might have a distinct charm for those with certain inclinations.

But comparatively, this person’s brokenness is more memorable, even though she seems quite stable at the moment—

Besides Brother Tantou and Tina, Zhen should be one of the confirmed anchor points in the Inner World.

And it seemed that after achieving the first task objective, nothing particularly significant happened over there.

At least nothing was transmitted here.

Of course, this was just a side glance; there were other focal points for this visit.

"Have you ever seen a silver door somewhere?"

Before Zhen could say anything, Fu Qian continued asking.

"Silver? No other details? How am I supposed to help you think with just that?"

Although she hadn’t uttered a word before, upon realizing Fu Qian arrived at the conclusion through serious comparison, Zhen felt a bit gratified amidst her astonishment.

Her show of this was evident in her furrowed brow as she genuinely pondered over Fu Qian’s overly vague question.

Unfortunately, as mentioned before, using just a color as an identifier, though somewhat rare, makes deduction difficult.

"Yes, that’s the only hint so far."

Fu Qian recalled the task details, indicating the need to overcome tough conditions.

Indeed, the main goal was to confirm the next task objective.

Although the Art Prison’s doors are already like a color palette, there really weren’t any silver ones recalled earlier.

In such a large town, it’s not feasible to search door by door, is it?

As a rookie officer, it’s essential to utilize the public as an information resource.

Though it seemed the public’s experience wasn’t very rich—

"There’s one at the bar, just two streets over, but they might not be open now."

While Zhen’s brainstorming yielded no results, another voice surprisingly chimed in.

Fu Qian turned to see Maggie behind the counter nodding slightly towards them.

"I don’t need to point the way specifically, do I?"

In the next moment, she even subtly gestured towards Fu Qian’s chest with her eyes.

It seemed there weren’t many bar choices around here, and Fu Qian appeared to be quite familiar with this particular bar.

His lifestyle choice was evidently helpful at the moment; otherwise, he would’ve had to run back to the Art Prison to search.

"Thanks, I’ll be off then."

Satisfied with the development, Fu Qian made sure to thank them casually.

"Aren’t you worried about us running off?"

Emily continued incredulously.

"They won’t stop you."

Fu Qian responded overly casually, even signaling for Maggie and the others not to feel burdened.

"So, feel free—go together, split up, or stay here to admire the graffiti outside and chat with the locals."

After presenting the multiple-choice options, Fu Qian didn’t linger, directly turning to leave.

...

Indeed, it wasn’t open.

Even without memories of the nightlife in the bar, Maggie’s simple directions made it easy to find.

Stopping in front of a door with a pretty normal color, Fu Qian once again expressed silent gratitude to Maggie as his masterful lock-picking got underway, and he pushed open the door.

It was silent and empty, but the faint smell of alcohol confirmed the place was still operational.

A quick glance around suggested it truly was a desolate corner of a dying town.

This authentic place for relaxation couldn’t escape the overwhelming dreariness.

You could almost imagine a group of middle-aged to elderly individuals, eyes lacking focus, lined up at the faded counter, cautiously controlling their alcohol intake as advised by their doctors.

Even though I was already so harsh, Tia still chose to follow, there was a reason.

This should be the place.

The analysis didn’t impede Fu Qian’s footsteps as he made his way around the bar, eventually stopping in an unremarkable corner.

Not only was the position not so good, but the operator’s taste seemed lacking; they had actually affixed a layer of silver to the door before him.

The material quality was rather ordinary, with many corners already lifted.

The subtle patterns on the door didn’t stand out much—but they were familiar.

I’ve seen this door before.

In that moment, Fu Qian clicked his tongue in amazement, recalling the scene when he first met Brother Interlocutor.

Indeed, that long corridor had more than one door.

And the Interlocutor stood somewhere in between, telling me the nightmare behind that door was the mildest one comparatively.

Nightmare Corridor, it’s really you.

It seemed such a powerful suppression must have some significant background.

And considering the path I took to get here suspected to be through the corridor, this warehouse directly arranged a major task for me; it seems quite reasonable, though rather impolite—

I was still enjoying my tea.

"Please come in."

Fortunately, someone was quite polite; a voice invitation came directly from within the door.