Chapter 2098: Chapter 2098

Jenkins couldn't really judge a puppet's beauty by his own aesthetic standards, but he knew one universal truth: complimenting a female, regardless of her form, was never a mistake. He’d confirmed this principle on countless occasions.

Sure enough, the moment he finished his part, the puppet on stage resumed its self-admiration. It spent a full five minutes extolling its own beauty, its lyrics filled with grammatically complex modifiers and metaphors that even Jenkins would have struggled to compose.

"But now that I'm part of it, I'm bound to have an impact," he mused. "So where is the real danger in this Mysterious Realm going to come from?"

After indulging in its bedroom soliloquy, the puppet began to sing again, making its way toward a painted door on the left side of the stage. As it neared the door, a brand-new backdrop descended from above with a soft whoosh, replacing the bedroom scene. The puppet then turned and walked toward the center of the stage.

Act Two began. This time, the setting was a living room. Not only had the backdrop changed, but the background music had also vanished completely.

The puppet walked to the center of the stage in utter silence. A moment later, a sofa descended from above, bearing two new puppets. Judging by their attire, if the original puppet was a young maiden, these newcomers were likely her parents.

"Where are you going?" Thɪs chapter is updated by novel※fire.net

the father puppet asked.

It was a spoken line—no music, no melody, just dialogue delivered with a strong, theatrical flair.

The maiden puppet replied, lifting the hem of her skirt and spinning in place.

"Are you going dressed like that?"

the mother puppet inquired, her voice just as unsettling as the others.

"Yes. Mr. Mirror said I am very beautiful."

The father and mother puppets exclaimed in unison as a frantic drumbeat erupted from backstage. The stage lights abruptly went out, leaving only two spotlights, one trained on the father puppet, the other on the mother.

"Mirror, how dare you say such a thing!"

They both glared down at Jenkins in the audience, who was utterly baffled.

"You have a problem with me complimenting your daughter?"

He shifted uneasily in his seat just as the two puppets leaped directly off the stage. The twin spotlights, their source unseen, followed them down from above.

One took the left aisle, the other took the right. They closed in on Jenkins's third-row seat from both sides, effectively trapping him. Sharp daggers had somehow appeared in their hands, and to the frantic beat of the drum, they rushed toward him through the narrow space between the rows of seats.

"Isn't this a bit much?"

Jenkins shot to his feet, a silver dinner knife in each hand. No matter how formidable the puppets seemed, they were still controlled by strings. If he could just sever those threads, they'd be powerless... And if, by some chance, they could still move, he had other tricks up his sleeve.

"You cannot leave your seat,"

the metal puppet beside him suddenly warned from the darkness.

"Of course I know that."

"You cannot interfere with the continuation of the puppet show,"

"You cannot harm the puppets. They are the actors. Otherwise, the play cannot continue."

As the metal puppet explained, the two wooden assailants glided to his sides and simultaneously thrust their daggers toward his waist.

"Oh, that's not fair! I can't harm them, but they get to kill me!"

Careful not to break the "no loud noises" rule, he voiced his complaint in a hushed tone. At the same time, he dropped his own knives and seized the puppets' wrists. Their strength, while no match for his, was surprisingly great—likely more than an ordinary person or even a low-level Enchanter could handle.

Seeing their hands caught, the puppets raised their free hands, each now brandishing another sharp dagger.

"Why do they have daggers? This completely contradicts the story's setting!"

Jenkins protested again, and this time, the metal puppet—which had retreated to the row behind him—actually offered an explanation.

"It does not conflict with the setting. We are a professional puppet troupe."

"So it only explains things when it concerns the story's logic," Jenkins realized. "And if daggers don't conflict with the setting, then the family life of these three puppets must be anything but simple!"

With only two hands, he couldn't stop the second attack. The two daggers plunged into his sides. Jenkins let out a muffled grunt, but managed a pained laugh as he endured the sharp agony.

"You didn't really think an attack would scare me, did you?"

As expected, the daggers were poisoned—and with a potent toxin, at that—but he was now immune to most venoms. While he was certain there were poisons in the world that could still harm him, the substance coating these blades wasn't one of them.

Tightening his grip, he lifted the puppets and hurled them violently toward the stage. But to his surprise, guided by their strings, the two figures changed direction in mid-air and flew back toward him. This time, they produced new daggers, each one radiating the black aura of a Mysterious Object.

"The solution isn't to defeat these two puppets," he reasoned. "The metal one behind me isn't going to stop them from attacking. So the only way out is..."

He glanced toward the pitch-black stage. Thanks to his dark vision, he could see the maiden puppet, standing perfectly still in the center.

He declared in a loud, singing voice, doing his best to make it sound melodic even without any accompaniment.

"The mirror reminds you, it's time to leave for your performance, or you'll be late."

The moment he finished, the stage lights flared back to life. The maiden puppet began to move again, her voice ringing out with excitement:

"Yes, Mr. Mirror is right! Father, Mother, I'm going out!"

The two "flying" puppets changed direction in mid-air once more, reversing course to land back on the stage.

"Oh, that simply won't do. You cannot go out now. Go back to your room at once,"

the father puppet declared.

"You cannot go out, and you certainly cannot perform. Go back this instant,"

the mother puppet added.

The music swelled once more as the maiden puppet began to sing:

"You'll never understand me! I know what I'm doing. I'll perform for you right now—behold, my wondrous magic!"

Her wooden fingers mimed the motion of a snap, and a deafening crack echoed through the theater.

As the sound faded, two large wooden boxes dropped from the sky, trapping the father and mother puppets. The maiden puppet then turned and walked to the painted backdrop, stopping before the image of a tall cabinet. She reached out, her hand passing right through the canvas, and pulled out a steel saw that glinted coldly in the light.