Chapter 2096: Chapter 2096

"Is this metal puppet being controlled by someone?"

Jenkins wondered, blinking his eyes, but he couldn't see any strings attached to the metal puppet.

"So, what if I had taken up all the seats with my luggage before you appeared?"

Jenkins posed another question, trying to trip it up. To his surprise, the metal puppet began to shake, letting out a metallic cackle as the red dots in its eyes flickered.

"Then I would have just appeared in the aisle between the seats. Surely you don't think I can only materialize in a sitting position?"

That left Jenkins without a comeback. He gave a slight huff, ending the awkward exchange, and quickly steered the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Why can't I stand up?"

"Because the puppet show is about to begin, guest. According to the rules of the theater, please refrain from moving. This establishment welcomes guests who follow the rules, but it has no qualms about punishing those who don't."

"In that case, may I be made aware of all the rules?"

With a swish, the stage curtains pulled open on their own. A sudden burst of light from behind them made Jenkins instinctively shut his eyes.

But he still managed to glimpse the back of the stage behind the curtain. A massive oil painting served as both a divider and a backdrop, and it depicted, of all things, rows upon rows of theater seats.

A metal chair crashed down from above the stage with a loud bang, landing facing Jenkins, aligned with the rows of seats in the painting. It was followed by another heavy thud as a life-sized male puppet, dressed in a formal suit and a top hat, dropped from the rafters and landed perfectly on the chair. It sat primly, its wooden hands resting on its knees.

Dozens of white strings ran from the puppet's joints and body up into the darkness above, though Jenkins couldn't see what they were attached to. As the strings began to twitch, a cacophony of gongs, drums, and a scratchy, saw-like melody erupted from behind the painted backdrop, accompanied by an eerie song sung in a young boy's unbroken voice:

"Lots of rules in the little theater, let's count them together. Don't be noisy during the show, or else a fierce ghost will bother you."

The strings twitched, forcing the puppet to its feet. Its wooden mouth flapped open and shut as it raised its right hand, shaking a clenched fist in a gesture of angry protest.

Another thud echoed as a black demon puppet dropped from the ceiling. Despite its role, it had an almost cute appearance. The demon puppet, holding a scythe, approached the chair and lopped off the spectator puppet's head in a single swing.

The demon puppet was whisked back up into the darkness by its strings, while the spectator puppet collapsed to the stage with a clatter. Its head rolled away, and a crimson liquid gushed from the stump of its neck like a grotesque fountain.

"Don't panic if danger appears; it's all part of the performance."

The gushing body was pulled back into a sitting position by the strings, and its head was reattached to its neck. Fully restored, the puppet craned its neck to peer down from the stage—directly at Jenkins. A chill ran down his spine, but he understood it was merely acting out the part of watching a show.

Two sharp thuds broke the silence as a pair of throwing knives flew out of the darkness behind Jenkins, embedding themselves in the puppet's chest. Blood immediately gushed from the wounds, and the puppet collapsed.

"Is this a warning that there will be danger coming from the stage during the performance?"

He wondered, just as the third rule was announced:

"Watch the show with your full attention. Leaving your seat will surely bring misfortune."

Like the lines before, it didn't rhyme in the slightest, and the word choice was clumsy. But that was exactly what made it feel more like a genuine puppet show, and it sent a deeper chill through Jenkins.

The puppet with the bleeding chest was pulled back onto its chair by the strings. A few seconds later, it rose and began to walk. Then, as if an invisible eraser were being dragged across the stage, the puppet vanished piece by piece—first its head, then its torso, then its feet. Simultaneously, the section of the painted backdrop level with the puppet turned blank white, as if it, too, had been erased.

This time, the puppet did not reappear. Instead, applause thundered from all around Jenkins, and the stage curtains slowly drew shut once more.

There was no one else in the theater, yet the applause sounded like it came from a full house. The way the curtains tightened suggested someone was pulling the blood-red fabric, but there was no one to be seen. Even though he had braced himself for the bizarre phenomena typical of a Mysterious Realm, Jenkins still shifted uncomfortably in his seat, chalking it up to an innate revulsion for puppet shows.

The curtains finally closed, leaving just a thin gap between them, and the applause slowly died down.

"Guest, do you understand the rules now?"

The metal puppet to his left opened and closed its mouth, but the voice that emerged was a discordant mix of tones, not a single sound.

"I understand. No loud noises, be wary of danger from the stage, and don't leave my seat... So, how do I get out of here? And oh, please, no more demonstrations."

Seeing the metal puppet about to signal for the curtains to part again, Jenkins spoke up quickly.

"I'm eagerly awaiting the main performance, so please, just tell me how I can leave."

The metal puppet let out another metallic cackle and gestured for Jenkins to look at the "cards" in its hand.

"I have a stack of tickets for the show right here. You may choose three performances to watch. Once you have seen them, you will be free to leave."

Jenkins raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you all like the number three so much?"

"Guest, what did you say?"

"Nothing. I said nothing. Now, let me choose."

He reached out his hand, but the metal puppet didn't give him the tickets. Instead, it shook its head.

"You didn't expect to get these tickets for free, did you?"

Jenkins had assumed the danger would lie within the performances themselves; he hadn't expected a catch at the very first step—getting the tickets.

"So what's the price for these tickets?"

He wasn't foolish enough to try snatching them. The metal puppet didn't look particularly formidable, but Jenkins wasn't about to risk it.

"Does it cost a soul?"

"What would I do with a soul?" the puppet scoffed. "Do you take me for one of those demons with such pedestrian tastes?"

It held the stack of tickets out toward Jenkins. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by NovєlFіre.net

"Rest assured, the very fact that you are here means you are qualified to watch. I can even cover the price of the tickets. You simply need to prove your taste is refined enough for the performance."

"And how do I prove that?"

"Have you ever written a story?"

Jenkins eyed the metal puppet with suspicion.

"What's your connection to A-01-1-0034, the Replica Shop of Mr. Prank?"