In the thick, snow-white fog, Bai Chunian caught only a fleeting glimpse of that white figure out of the corner of his eye. His mind suddenly spun with dizziness, and a faint scent of pheromones made him feel both familiar and alien.
He looked down. The ground beneath his feet had, at some point, transformed into a vast, smooth mirror. Like the surface of water, the mirror rippled, reflecting Bai Chunian’s face.
A single raindrop fell, shattering the mirror’s tranquility. Ripples spread out, and the reflection slowly transformed into a lustrous pearl.
The pearl was no bigger than a fist, yet it was semi-translucent. Through a layer of lustrous nacre, Bai Chunian watched in shock as a tiny white devilfish struggled and swam inside the pearl. The young fish was milky white all over, with a pale red tip on its tail, so fragile it seemed it would shatter at the slightest touch.
It was so tiny. Bai Chunian knelt down in panic, stretching out his hand as far as he could to reach for it, whispering soothingly, “Sweetheart, are you alive? Come here, come to me quickly.”
His hand passed through the mirror’s surface; the world within was a bottomless abyss.
The pearl seemed to understand his words, drifting slowly toward the palm of his hand.
Bai Chunian’s upper body was almost pressed flat against the ground. As his hand drew closer and closer—just a centimeter away from touching the pearl’s shell—he suddenly felt a tight grip on his wrist. Then, his ankle was seized by an icy hand. When Bai Chunian turned to look, he saw countless ghostly hands, dark blue and billowing with smoke, reaching out from the mirror’s surface. Their sharp nails had already dug into his flesh, yet he hadn’t even noticed.
An ethereal voice laughed triumphantly in his ear: “The mind of a Divine Messenger is too difficult to control; I had no choice but to let you reach in of your own accord.”
Hundreds upon hundreds of dark-blue ghostly hands, like the flailing arms of a drowning man, seized Bai Chunian’s hands, feet, and body, pulling him forcefully into the world within the mirror.
“What is this…” Bai Chunian gritted his teeth and struggled violently, snapping dozens of ghostly hands clean off. Their razor-sharp nails left deep, bloody gashes across his body.
The ghostly hands, torn from his body with such force, let out agonized, mournful wails. From the severed stumps, new ghostly hands rapidly sprouted, clutching Bai Chunian’s neck, One claw sank deep into the Alpha’s vulnerable nape gland. Bai Chunian let out a cry of pain, and a swarm of ghostly hands seized the opportunity to cover his eyes, mouth, and nose, dragging him heavily into the mirror. The mirror vanished, and the ground was once again shrouded in thick fog.
Bai Chunian vanished, leaving only his cell phone on the ground. The screen kept flickering; the caller ID showed Lan Bo, with over a dozen missed calls.
Usually, by six o’clock, the sky was already bright. Today, however, it was gloomy and overcast, with thick clouds carrying a low-pressure system gradually bearing down on the ground.
An ocean-going vessel drifted on the endless expanse of the sea. Lan Bo sat on the deck railing, his legs dangling lightly in the air. Clutching his phone, he gazed pensively toward the horizon where sky and sea met.
Half the ship’s crew consisted of IOA personnel, while the other half were members of the PBB Shark Squad. The Shark Squad’s First Team had been dispatched to the Aphid Sea to help resolve the submarine laboratory leak issue once and for all.
Wei Lan, the captain of the Shark Squad’s First Team, and his deputy, Feng Lang, were both on board, leaning lazily against the railing and gazing out at the distant horizon.
After a thorough sweep of the area, they discovered nearly fifty abandoned submarine laboratories in the waters. More than half of them had already leaked completely dry, and a strange, colorful film of oil floated across the entire surface of the sea. The corpses of countless marine creatures drifted on the surface with the surging waves, emitting a pungent stench.
Feng Lang took off his beret and clenched it in his hand, muttering under his breath, “Damn it, that’s just despicable.”
Wei Lan held his laptop, checking the locations marked for cleanup on the satellite map one by one. He sighed, “Without support from various countries, the research institute wouldn’t have grown this large. Once the proposal passes at this international conference and PBB gets an arrest warrant, we’ll take out their headquarters directly. Hmph.”
Han Xingqian was also on board, conducting water quality analysis with several interns from the Medical Association. The interns were calibrating the purification machines, and a few newly promoted trainees from the Investigation Division were present as well—it was a rare opportunity for hands-on training, and none of them wanted to miss it.
Han Xingqian examined the newly printed report for a moment: “It’s fine. As long as we purify it to below 3.2, the contamination will be eliminated. Looks like it’ll take a dozen days or so.”
Lan Bo sat in silence, staring down at the corpses and filth floating on the sea’s surface. Without his command, the entire merfolk tribe would not venture out to purify the waters on their own—this was a small punishment he had imposed on humanity. However, since he had agreed with Xiaobai to reconcile with humans, Lan Bo no longer wished to hold onto this resentment. He cherished Xiaobai above all else and could not bear to see her caught between two sides.
He suddenly spoke, emitting from his throat a faint, ethereal chant that defied gender—like the long call of a whale, yet more elegant and mysterious.
The crew members all turned to look at Lan Bo in astonishment. They had only ever heard such a unique sound in ocean documentaries. Only the older sailors could recognize it: the call a sea clan leader makes to summon its members during migration.
The air on board grew thick with tension. People stopped what they were doing and gazed silently at Lan Bo, who sat on the railing. For a moment, the air fell completely still, broken only by the sound of waves lapping against the ship’s hull.
Suddenly, similar calls echoed from the distance. At first they came from the east, then shifted to the west, joined by sounds from the south and north. The calls and ethereal chants rose and fell from all directions, responding to Lan Bo’s summons.
Someone shouted, “There are mermaids! They’re gathering toward us!”
The crew erupted into a frenzy, swarming onto the deck and straining their necks to peer out at the sea.
Beneath the calm surface, multicolored scales shimmered as they gathered toward the ocean-going vessel. Hundreds upon hundreds of merfolk swam in the shallows; some leapt out of the water, tracing a trail of light through the air before plunging back in, sending up a spray of snow-white water.
In addition to those swimming in the water, merfolk with scaly wings were circling overhead. They had no fish tails; their lower bodies resembled those of birds, with two sharp, powerful talons. Their wings and claws were covered in colorful scales, and gills fluttered beside their ears.
The crew was stunned by this breathtaking scene; it took them a while to remember to pull out their phones and DSLRs to snap photos frantically. What incredible luck to encounter such a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle—a school of mermaids in the open sea. This was an experience they could brag about for the rest of their lives.
Lan Bo looked at the humans’ stunned expressions and was a bit speechless; he had merely called over a small group of mermaids lingering nearby to help with the work.
“Bolieaclayakimo, Siren. (We have heard your call, King.)” The mermaids greeted Lan Bo in a chorus of melodious voices.
Lan Bo said calmly, “nabiyaye. (Clean it up.)”
The mermaids obeyed their leader’s command without question. They immediately scattered through the water, and the areas they swam through gradually became clear. Some mermaids dove to the seabed, opening their mouths filled with serrated fangs to gnaw on the wreckage of sunken submarines. Though their purification abilities were far inferior to Lan Bo’s, they were sufficient.
Wei Lan was the first to recover from the shock. He urged the other team members to speed up, hoisting the fully calibrated purifiers into the water. People bustled about on the deck while the merfolk worked silently in the sea.
Some merfolk flew up to the deck on their scaled wings to rest for a moment, but they dared not approach the humans, warily keeping their distance from every crew member—except Han Xingqian.
On the entire ocean-going vessel, Han Xingqian was the only one surrounded by merfolk. They folded their wings and lingered by his side. Han Xingqian reached into his pocket, pulled out some hardtack, broke it into small pieces, and handed them to the merfolk. They carefully took the pieces and popped them into their mouths, munching away.
Feng Lang leaned in curiously and asked, “Hey, buddy, why are they the only ones who aren’t afraid of you?”
Han Xingqian smiled faintly. “I believe in the Sea God. I’ve converted to the Sea God and am under his protection. Don’t you get it?”
Feng Lang grew even more curious and squeezed in next to Han Xingqian, determined to get to the bottom of it.
Lan Bo sat bored on the railing, enjoying the sea breeze, when a Sea Anemone Alpha suddenly squeezed in beside him, his red hair standing up in the sunlight.
Lan Bo looked up at him—it was the deputy captain of the Mad Shark Squad.
Feng Lang nudged his way over and whispered, “Um, I don’t eat sashimi either. We even patrol the waters in the unit—I was the one who led the team to set up the coral conservation zone at headquarters…”
Lan Bo raised an eyebrow. “Kid, what are you trying to say?”
Feng Lang pressed his palms together: “I think I could become your follower too. Please.” Since becoming a follower of the merman leader would make marine life approach him, wouldn’t the clownfish be even more drawn to his good looks?
Lan Bo sighed in exasperation, extending a finger for him to kiss the tip. Once a follower, one must refrain from any actions harmful to the ocean—a rule that, for Lan Bo, was more beneficial than harmful.
After kissing Lan Bo’s fingertip, Feng Lang clenched his fists in triumph, let out a joyful “Yay!” and walked away. Lan Bo suddenly noticed that a circle of crew members had gathered around him, crowding in from all sides like fans at a concert waiting for autographs, their eyes fixed on him as they eagerly awaited his blessing.
He burst out laughing. Not all creatures on land were repulsive to him; there were many likable youths, just like Xiaobai, who were full of enthusiasm.
His mood lifted. He raised his right hand slightly, and deep blue, glowing fragments fell from his palm into the water. As they hit the water, they unfurled, transforming into countless blue jellyfish of varying sizes, accelerating the purification of the murky waters. The jellyfish shattered in the sea into stardust shimmering with a blue glow, The saturation of the mermaids’ colorful scales suddenly increased, making them even more vibrant, and the purification efficiency improved visibly.
Just as Lan Bo was about to relax, finally able to have a proper conversation with the humans on board, a sharp pain pierced his heart.
He clutched his chest and was immediately overwhelmed by an immense wave of sorrow emanating from his heart.
Lan Bo had once cut a piece of his own heart, embedded it between his ribs, and made it into an earring for Xiao Bai. He could hear every breath and emotion of hers.
“Lan Bo… come get me.” A voice, heavy with unbearable grief, called out hoarsely in Lan Bo’s ear.
A sharp pang of heartache rose from his chest. Lan Bo suddenly straightened his back, his pupils narrowing to slits as a flash of savage fury crossed his eyes.
—
An eerie white mist spread outward, enveloping the entire city of Hongli. The buildings were all shrouded in a faint haze, and the Walhua Pharmaceutical Factory was completely engulfed by thick fog. Within the dense fog released by Xia Shilu, people’s five senses were completely dulled—they were practically blind and deaf.
Qishenggu fanned his feathered fan, dispersing the mist before him. The bodies of security guards killed by Emperor Crocodile with his bare hands lay scattered haphazardly around him. The vitality of an M2-class Alpha was too tenacious; one was still struggling to crawl up from the ground, desperately clinging to Qishenggu’s slender ankle. With a flick of his wrist, Qishenggu reduced it to a pile of white bone dust that drifted away on the wind.
Di Yue paced restlessly in the thick fog, while Qi Shenggu furrowed her delicate brows, searching for the others in the pitch-black mist. In such conditions, being separated from the group was far too dangerous.
A strand of golden thread drifted over, wrapping itself around Qishenggu’s fingertips, then guiding her toward the Emperor Crocodile.
“Big Sis, don’t get separated.” Eris followed the golden thread over.
It was Eris’s Curse Thread. The Curse Thread could automatically connect to any living creature within a hundred-meter radius, and Eris relied on it to gather everyone around her.
The Puppet Master stood quietly, holding the last suitcase of dolls: “Eris, retract the thread.”
“Oh.”
The enemy had an Asbestos Omega skilled in area-of-effect damage. Eris’s cursed threads would cause everyone connected to take the same damage simultaneously; once attacked by Asbestos, they would all suffer multiplied damage.
Qishenggu unfolded a small feather fan; the gold, green, and blue dots on her forehead flickered as her companion ability, Emerald Dawn, activated. Six dots—identical to those on Qishenggu’s brow—appeared on both Eris’s and Diyao’s foreheads.
Emerald Dawn triggers positive mutations in allies. As soon as she is enhanced by Qishenggu, Eris suddenly feels her vision and hearing improve. Her range of vision in the thick fog increases by over ten meters, and her ears no longer feel as if they’re stuffed with cotton, making it difficult to hear.
With her vision suddenly cleared, Eris keenly spotted a blurry figure over ten meters away. She fired a shot at it, then immediately moved to a new location with the Puppet Master.
Erosian had already spotted them as well.
In the dense fog of Kasato Shika, their own people’s senses were unaffected by the mist, allowing Erosian to clearly see their positions.
The petite girl in the white dress spread her arms, and a swarm of crystalline threads emerged from her soft, puffy skirt, silently closing in on them.
Shi Mian activated his M2 ability, “Needle Wind Turns to Rain,” unleashing a deluge of heavily reinforced asbestos fibers that swept down from the sky.
Eris charged forward into the rain of needles. The Threads of Curse connected to Shi Mian’s slender wrist as she spun mid-air, sweeping her leg toward the little girl’s waist. Shi Mian turned her cold, milky-white eyes and raised her hand to block the kick, but the impact sent her staggering backward.
But her J1 ability, “Like Bathing in Tenderness,” was a force-dispersing ability. The force of Eris’s heavy blow against her body felt as if she had fallen into a pile of cotton; most of it was softly absorbed, which is why she didn’t sustain serious injuries.
Before Eros could regain her footing, Eris’s fatal kick flew straight toward her head. The spellcaster’s power still outmatched Eros by a margin; the little girl struggled to keep up, but she seized a single opening to unleash another shower of asbestos needles.
Empowered by the mutation of the Strange Bone, the Imperial Crocodile’s scales had grown even thicker. Using his massive, imposing frame, he shielded the others and shouted over his shoulder, “You must flee! ”
But the asbestos fibers were as fine as needles, penetrating every crevice. She didn’t launch a heavy punch to clash head-on with the Imperial Crocodile; instead, the dense asbestos fibers burrowed into its scales. The Imperial Crocodile felt a piercing pain that seeped into its very bones, and droplets of blood began to seep from its scales.
Qishenggu frowned and cursed, “You fool, get out of the way!”
Peacock feathers unfurled from beneath her skirt. Without a moment’s hesitation, Qishenggu activated her M2 ability, “Rainbow Garment.” A dazzling halo formed a protective shield, enveloping them at its center.
Though both were M2-level abilities, their power wasn’t vastly different; however, Qishenggu’s rank was one tier lower than E-Mian’s, making it difficult for him to sustain the protective barrier. Qishenggu’s face grew increasingly pale, and his coughing grew more severe, the blood he coughed up staining the feathers of the small fan.
While searching for an exit in the thick fog, the Puppet Master observed the shifting auras around them and suddenly spoke: “Don’t push it—ease up.”
Qishenggu froze, instinctively obeying the Puppet Master’s command, but in that split second, an irreversible catastrophe had already occurred.
A sharp, rainbow-colored beam instantly shattered the protective barrier Qishenggu had released. The light exploded, and Qishenggu coughed up a mouthful of murky blood mixed with fragments of internal organs. He knelt on the ground in agony, barely managing to brace himself with his hands to keep from collapsing unconscious.
Xia Shilu’s M2 Differentiation Ability “Rainbow”: Detonates all protective shields and armor formed by defensive abilities, inflicting 100% backlash on the user.
Amid the thick fog, the silhouette of a silver-horned deer slowly materialized—its upper body that of an alpha’s robust frame, its lower body the elegant four hooves of a white stag. The little girl, Shi Mian, sat atop Xia Shilu’s back, expressionless as she clung to the deer’s arm, sucking on her finger as she peered out from behind the deer to survey them.
Eris stood close to the Puppet Master, a shotgun in one hand, her fingers wrapped in cursed golden threads, while her other hand shielded the Puppet Master behind her. She licked her lips, drawing a black line from the tip of her tongue.
“Curse User, are you afraid?” Shi Mian giggled, once again using her M2 ability, “Needle Wind, Rain,” causing scattered asbestos fibers to spread through the air.
Xia Shilu’s antlers shimmered with silver light. The mist swirling around him transformed into a glow of twilight, enveloping Shi Mian in a cascade of iridescent hues. Xia Shilu’s A3 ability, “Twilight,” served to increase the ability density of all allies.
The asbestos fibers filling the sky suddenly doubled in number, thickening the air until it became viscous. Carried by a gentle breeze, they descended silently.
“Ah—!!” The gravely wounded Qishenggu let out a piercing scream. Blood began seeping from every pore on her body, staining the emerald-green hem of her cheongsam and the iridescent peacock tail feathers—shimmering in shades of gold, green, and blue—a deep crimson.
Emperor Crocodile’s situation was equally dire. Though clad in crocodile-scale armor, he could not fend off the relentless rain of asbestos needles; the slightest movement brought unbearable stinging pain.
Eris glanced back at the Puppet Master, who raised a doll’s suitcase to shield himself from the falling rain of needles. He pulled two doctor dolls from the suitcase and tossed them toward Qishenggu and the Imperial Crocodile.
The doctor dolls, with incantations engraved on their backs, nimbly ran toward the two, using tiny toy syringes to repair their damaged glands, then dragged them inch by inch toward safety. Though seemingly delicate, these dolls were infused with an inexhaustible power from the incantations, making it effortless for them to drag the massive, heavy body of the Imperial Crocodile.
They kept shifting positions during the standoff. Though Eris had lost his sense of direction in the fog, he managed to tie the cursed thread to the exit he’d managed to locate. Golden strands of the cursed thread lay scattered on the ground. Eris placed the end of the thread in the puppeteer’s hand and gave him a hard shove: “Follow the thread. I’ll take care of them.”
The Puppet Master looked up and gave him a deep, lingering gaze.
Eris was startled by the faint hint of concern in those eyes and stuck out his tongue at him. “Your messenger is all-powerful.”
The Puppet Master, carrying his leather case, placed a hand on the back of Eris’s neck and wound the sacred spring embedded there. He instructed calmly, “Don’t get entangled. Even the energy of the Shashi Deer will eventually run out. Kill the Corrosive Cotton first.”
“I’ll handle this myself.” Eris curled the corners of his lips; the black-and-red cross on his face curved with his smile. He grasped the Puppet Master’s hand and turned the sacred spring embedded in his own nape in its place. Normally, just two turns were enough to activate the puppet’s functions, but this time, Eris turned it ten times.
The puppeteer grabbed his hand sternly. “Your mechanical core can’t handle it. Stop.”
“I say it can, so it can.” Eris paid him no heed, stubbornly wrenching his hand free. He opened his right palm; the bone blade on his calf detached from its ball joint and clenched tightly in his fist. A golden thread shot from his cuff, piercing the thick fog to link itself to the antlers of Xia Shilu and the neck of the little girl with the eroded cotton.
This way, even if Eris couldn’t see them through the thick fog, she could still determine their positions by the taut direction and vibrations of the cursed thread.
The Puppet Master was taken aback by his own loss of composure. It took him a few seconds to calm down; he did his best to forget the look of flattered surprise in Eris’s eyes. He turned, scooped up the gravely wounded Qishenggu in a cross-body carry, and headed toward the exit with the still-mobile Di’e.
The greatest and most unattainable advantage of the Messenger-type experimental subjects was their ability to draw upon the power of their controlled entities. As long as the Messenger’s life could withstand it, they could receive unlimited enhancement from their controlled entities.
The aura emanating from Eris’s body had now surpassed the limits expected of a Grade A3 entity. The overwhelming pressure caused the human face beneath Kasato Shika’s silver mask to suddenly pale.
Kasiruku’s four hooves involuntarily began stamping the ground as he retreated. Shi Mian, seated on his back, turned cold, and needle-like crystals suddenly burst forth from the hem of her ashen-gray skirt.
Eri’s A3 ability, “Heart-Piercing,” sends asbestos fibers into the opponent’s body through every orifice, destroying their organs from within.
This devastating ability was further amplified by Kasashi’s A3 ability, and a deluge of asbestos fibers surged toward Eri.
Eris didn’t even try to dodge. Clutching her bone blade tightly, she met the hail of fibers with a downward slash through the air, A sharp, icy glint flashed through the mist. With a heavy blow, the blade struck down, slicing off half of Kasiraku’s antler. Kasiraku’s A3 ability came to an abrupt halt, and the enhancement ceased instantly. Eros hesitated for a moment, then suddenly felt a heavy kick to the chest, sending him flying straight off the deer’s back.
As Eris landed, she braced herself with both hands on the ground. Lifting her gaze slightly, she chuckled softly, “As if standing on the edge of an abyss.”
Eros fell through the air, but the ground was shrouded in the shadow of thick fog. The shadow transformed into a bottomless abyss, and Eros’s piercing screams echoed all the way from the depths as he plummeted into the void.
The abyss split open with lightning speed. The pharmaceutical factory buildings collapsed one after another; walls and debris scattered on the ground were sucked into the chasm, and even the trucks on the playground were swallowed by the darkness one by one—Hell opened its gaping maw, summoning everything on the shore to plunge downward, only to seal them away for eternity.
Eris knelt on the edge of the chasm, propping up his weary body with his bone blade. Gravel continued to tumble from the precipice beneath his feet; compared to the cracks crawling across the earth, the sorcerer’s form was utterly insignificant.
Eris’s body was also riddled with fine asbestos needles; those minute, viscous fibers had lodged themselves in the gears and joints within him. Kneeling on the ground, he could hear the sound of his internal mechanisms slowly being destroyed by the asbestos needle crystals seeping into his core.
Without the corrosive asbestos, no matter how powerful Xia Shilu might be, a mere auxiliary test subject could no longer inflict significant harm upon him.
“It’s your turn.” Eris propped himself up with his bone blade and slowly walked toward Xia Shilu.
Suddenly, a white figure flashed before his eyes. That single glimpse triggered all of Eris’s alertness. He had never been startled by any aura before, yet this one sent a chill up his spine.
It was the aura of a test subject in the deterioration phase.
Eris immediately abandoned his pursuit of Xia Shilu, intercepting the white figure as it closed in on the Puppet Master. He swung his bone dagger downward, but the white figure flickered ethereally and dodged the blow.
Then, the ghostly figure shook the white cloth cloak draped over its body, sending out a ripple centered on itself. A mirror with rippling water spread out beneath Eris’s feet. Countless ghostly hands reached out from the mirror, snarling hoarsely as they seized Eris’s legs, leaving deep nail marks on his ceramic limbs.
“Who are you?” Eris raised his hand to sever the obstructing ghostly hands, releasing a strand of cursed thread to entangle the phantom’s elusive form and yank it violently toward him.
But before his blade could strike, he sensed another ripple emanating from within the phantom—a vibration that sent shivers through his soul.
The ghost suddenly struck out. Eris rolled aside to dodge; the ghost’s grasp came up empty, and it withdrew its hand beneath the white cloth, following Eris as he flew past. As Eris rose to his feet, the ghost flashed behind him. Eris withdrew the thread of curse and, with a backhand slash, cut horizontally across the ghost’s throat.
The white cloth was sliced open by the sharp bone blade, and blood began to flow out.
Through the white cloth, one could see the Ghost’s neck had been severed by the blade; the head snapped back at a right angle, and blood stained the white cloth covering the Ghost’s body.
Eris stared intently at him.
In an instant, the ghost’s severed neck suddenly straightened, the skull realigning with a cracking sound of bones snapping back into place. Eris barely had time to track its movement before the white ghost was upon him, emitting a powerful surge of energy from within.
Eris was struck by a buzzing, excruciating pain in his skull. The moment he remained on the ground—which had transformed into a mirror—countless ghostly hands reached out from the reflection, grabbing him and dragging him deeper into the mirror. The little energy remaining in his glands was constantly being sucked out by the ghostly hands.
The specter vanished once more into the thick fog. Eris lost his bearings, hearing only the specter’s hollow, echoing laughter.
“Nix… run…” Eris struggled to get to his feet, but was entangled by countless ghostly hands, unable to move. His body kept falling downward, with no idea where he was being dragged.
“Attributes… swap.”
A dazed voice came from not far away. Eris recognized the familiar yet irritating tone and turned to look.
“I made it…” Wangli timidly turned the glass hourglass in his arms. The mist that had enveloped the entire pharmaceutical factory ignited around him, and the flames rapidly consumed the thick fog. As the mist dissipated, Eris’s vision finally cleared.
Xia Shilu looked back in astonishment at the suddenly appearing Wángliáng hourglass, amazed that such a small and fragile glass specimen possessed the power to dispel his mist.
The ghost’s full form materialized in the air, chasing after the Puppet Master.
The Puppet Master, clutching Qishenggu, weaved through obstacles in his escape, but the ghost could pass directly through walls and piles of discarded crates. A ripple emanated from within him, causing the Puppet Master’s body to tremble violently, and Qishenggu’s skirt was whipped up by a gale.
The Ghost reached out from beneath the white cloth, clawing toward Kisei-kotsu’s leg.
With a loud bang, a shotgun shell exploded at his fingertips, blowing his right hand to a bloody pulp at the base of his palm.
Eris struggled to push herself up from the ground as the ghost’s hand clung to her, raising her shotgun at the specter: “Nix said not to look under a woman’s skirt…”
The Phantom paused for a moment; his shattered right hand slowly regenerated. He seemed to have understood how much Eris cherished the Puppet Master, and so he flew viciously toward the Puppet Master.
No matter how hard Eris struggled, he couldn’t break free from the ghostly hands sprouting from the mirror. Only the cursed golden threads could shoot out from his cuffs. Just as the specter was about to leave his side, a hundred meters away, the cursed threads wrapped around it.
“Die,” Eris gritted his teeth, twisting the sacred spring at the back of his neck.
The spring had already been wound to its limit; forced to turn once more, it caused the mechanical core within Eris’s body to explode.
A wisp of acrid black smoke billowed from Eris’s body. Then, starting from his torso, his spherical joints shattered, and his entire frame came apart.
The ghost let out a agonized wail, its footsteps faltering as it plummeted from the air to the ground; the pain transmitted through the Curse Thread caused it to endure everything Eris was currently suffering.
Eris’s puppet body shattered into pieces; its mechanical core was damaged, its internal gears no longer meshing. Spherical joints fell from her body one by one—calves, thighs, lower torso, and even her left shoulder—as her body disintegrated piece by piece.
Eris lost her support and crashed to the ground, shattering half of her ceramic cheek. With only half a chest cavity and a single right hand remaining, she struggled to claw at the ground with her fingertips, crawling inch by inch toward the puppeteer. Her pale green pupils reflected only the puppeteer’s retreating back. In a daze, she caught sight of the burlap sack piled in the corner of the workbench, filled with the discarded limbs of scrapped dolls.
Scrapped. This was the entire life of a cursed doll.
He wanted to say, “Don’t leave me,” but then remembered how he’d urged the puppeteer to hurry away. He felt conflicted and heartbroken.
The ghost lying on the ground slowly reassembled its limbs, as if it were immortal, and stood up once more, whole and unharmed. It let out an ethereal laugh, danced through the air, and slowly settled onto Kasato’s back.
But Eris could no longer stand; darkness engulfed his vision. With the mechanical core destroyed, his eyes and every other component would be rendered useless.
He could see nothing now, only those repulsive ghostly hands persistently dragging him downward. The hands were cold, pulling him toward an even colder place.
Eris gave up struggling. He didn’t know where his consciousness would drift after death. If, years from now, Nyx remembered him and was willing to come and collect the fragments of his mechanical core, that would be enough. He wanted to become a beautiful specimen, placed on Nyx’s workbench, bathed every day in the light of that old desk lamp he loved so much.
A pair of hands, their temperature distinct from the rest, touched Eris’s ceramic body, instantly dispelling the chill that had gripped him.
Eris instinctively wrapped his arms around him. A warmth he had never felt before seeped through his shattered chest cavity, reaching the scattered wreckage of his mechanical core. Eris had no tear ducts, yet rainwater pooled in his eye sockets, slowly trickling down his cheeks.
The Puppet Master picked up the tattered doll lying on the ground, tucking the scrapped mechanical core and sacred spring into his pocket. Eris, with only half a chest cavity and a single right arm remaining, clung tightly to the Puppet Master’s neck.
The ghostly hands recoiled in fear as the Puppet Master approached, not daring to touch him.
The ghost drifted in front of the puppeteer, the smiling face painted on the white cloth scrutinizing him from head to toe: “Curse Master…?”
“Eternal Spirit, you’re quite capable. You truly live up to your A3 Deterioration Stage status. We concede defeat.” The Puppeteer cradled Eris’s mangled body in one hand, gazing at him coldly; his usually mild and bored expression had turned grim.
The Puppet Master let go, and the leather trunk in his hand crashed to the ground. The brass clasp snapped open, revealing an interior filled with intricate gears. The gears spun wildly, suddenly expanding until they burst through the trunk’s walls and anchored themselves into the ground. A massive mechanical arm—too wide for two people to encircle—rose abruptly, unfurling into the air. the gears shifted and interlocked to assemble a massive mechanical palm, which slammed down heavily upon the Eternal Spirit, whipping up a howling gale.
The Puppeteer’s A3 ability, “Hand of God,” manipulates the Gear-Mechanism Forging Core to imbue lifeless objects with vigorous vitality.
The mechanical giant hand smashed the ground with a thunderous impact, forcing the Eternal Wraith to retreat and creating a vast distance between them. Riding the gust of wind, the Puppet Master leaped over the collapsed platform and called back:
“You hurt him, and I won’t go to the bitter end with you. But you hurt the Divine Messenger—I’ll be waiting to see if that troublesome Summoner lets you off easily.”
The Eternal Wraith’s path was disrupted by the colossal mechanical hand; unable to catch up for the moment, it silently looked up at the spot where the Puppet Master had vanished.
The rain had stopped, and the entire city was drowning in a dim, damp, low-pressure atmosphere. Sewage on the ground flowed toward the low-lying areas as the Puppeteer weaved through the buildings with Eris, her single remaining ball-jointed hand clinging tightly to his neck.
“You don’t need to hold on so tight. You won’t fall.”
“I’m afraid you’ll toss me aside along the way. Just like those broken dolls—you throw them away without batting an eye. It’s terrifying.” Eris stared with vacant eyes; he could no longer see anything. Half his face was shattered, and cracks had spread across the other half, with fragments teetering on the brink of falling off.
“I won’t.”
Hearing this, Eris gradually loosened her grip on his clothes as her strength gave out. Her body began to slide downward, but the puppeteer’s warm palm caught her, holding her firmly in place.