028: Mission Settlement & New Module
[Mission: Theater With Curtains That Never Draw] (TL/n: previous translated as "The Theater Never Falls")
[Marionettes, History, Miracles]
[Divination, performances, the grotesque.]
[Dismantling, piling, stitching.]
[Above the dome lies the essence of miracles. Beware—their power is not to be underestimated… Ah, and neither is the audience.]
['Mission Phase: 3/3']
[Status: Completed.]
[Congratulations, Host, on completing the phased mission [Theater With Curtains That Never Draw]! Rewards have been issued. Please check your inventory.]
[Mission status updated.]
[New Mission: Marionettist's Acting]
[Having advanced to "Marionettist," you've begun summarizing acting principles. Follow these principles and refine your acting method to accelerate potion digestion.]
[Completion: 7%.]
——
The theater faded, leaving only ruins in its wake.
The once-shabby yet orderly circus now lay in complete disarray. The performers had vanished—whether they were safe, no one knew.
Don had his suspicions about their fate and sighed inwardly.
This world was merciless to those at the bottom. Even the most ordinary people could become collateral damage the moment they brushed against the supernatural.
A world that devoured the weak.
"Before the Church arrives, we should leave."
The sunset's glow still lingered. The earlier explosion had undoubtedly drawn the Church's attention. Seizing the window, Baron Lamud approached the brutally slain Black Knight.
The knight's body had reverted to its original form—a desiccated corpse faintly shimmering with an eerie hue.
His Beyonder characteristics were slowly condensing.
Two four-meter-tall skeletal figures emerged from the ground. One seized the Black Knight, dragging him and his coalescing characteristics into the spirit world. The other fixed its pitch-black flaming eyes on Olsen, who was crouched nearby, gagging.
Olsen: "..."
Mom, there's something creepy staring at me!
Owen limped over, clearly still sore from being strung up earlier.
"Father."
The Baron nodded, glancing at his eldest son and the black armor he wore but saying nothing more. He ushered both sons into the spirit world's swirling colors.
When they reemerged, they stood within the castle.
Olsen had been hauled out of the spirit world by the skeletons. Combined with his near-marionettization and brush with losing control, he looked terrible.
Their arrival point was the castle's chapel, where the emblem of the Evernight Goddess hung, emanating a tranquil glow.
The Baron's gaze chilled slightly at the sight of the holy symbol. His lips twitched, but he remained silent.
"You alright?"
Don crouched beside Olsen, feeling obliged to check on his old friend.
Olsen waved him off, signaling he just needed to keep gagging for a bit.
Though he showed minor signs of losing control…
"Still better than hearing those voices."
Olsen forced a sickly grin.
Don nodded. "I'll have someone take you to a guest room."
"Thanks—urk—"
The retching was contagious. Don almost gagged in sympathy.
But—voices? Whispers?
Mr. Door? Don's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Owen approached, clapping Don on the back. "You should rest too. I'll brief Father on today's events."
"Got it."
Don glanced at the waiting Baron and agreed.
Only now, with the tension easing, did he realize his spirituality was nearly depleted.
Every second of that ordeal had strained his mind and body. The fatigue and aches hit him like a tide.
"Turns out adrenaline's the only thing keeping a man going when he's pumped up."
Stubbornly, Don trudged from the chapel to his room, collapsing onto the bed to meditate and recover.
---
At dinner, Don was absent.
Lady Boianca, surprised to see her husband—who should've departed—merely nodded and resumed her meal.
Owen winced, massaging his sore legs.
Once his mother left, he recounted the day's events to the Baron.
---
[Host, current time: 04:02.]
Don stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, sleep eluding him.
Having turned in too early, he hadn't processed or organized anything. He sat up—only to be trapped by his blankets.
After a brief struggle, he surrendered to inertia, staying in bed to review the System's updates.
[Phased Mission: Theater With Curtains That Never Draw]
"Status: Complete."
'Rewards:'
['+20 Appraisal uses (Remaining: 134)']
['+10 "Artisan" module uses (Remaining: 23)']
['+1,000 Knowledge Fragments (Total: 2,316)']
['+1 Bionic Marionette creation attempt (Remaining: 1)']
[Troubled by stiff marionettes? Frustrated by range limits? Reluctant to discard old puppets for new ones? Introducing Bionic Marionettes—meeting all your Marionettist needs!]
['P.S. Considering switching to Mysticologist/Alchemist at Sequence 4? [Y/N]']
[P.P.S. Alchemist unlocks more Bionic Marionette slots!]
'That's it?' Don's mind screamed. After all that effort, all those spent fragments—just this?!
'Also, since when did you pick up infomercial tactics…'
His eye twitched as he sat up. "What even is a 'bionic marionette'?"
[Think AI management.] The System cheerfully explained. [You can preset personalities/backgrounds. Based on completeness, they'll auto-fill gaps and react to events without micromanagement. Their 'character' evolves with experience.]
Great. The world's just one giant ChatGPT.
[Key feature: No proximity limits.]
[Anywhere the spirit world touches, bionic marionettes remain operable!]
The System practically glowed with pride. Don's lips pursed.
This sounded suspiciously like shoving alchemical constructs into marionettes.
"Did you… improvise this feature?"
[Would I?~]
(End of Chapter)