049: Theater Core

Theater With Curtains That Never Draw.

Countless gigantic building phantoms floated in mid-air, with four enormous celestial bodies in the sky above.

The brilliant sun and the dark sun—one in the east, one in the west.

The crimson full moon floated in the south, while the pristine white moon stood in the north.

This scene that defied common sense would make one's scalp tingle just by looking at it. The suns and moons magnified countless times possessed an incomparable sense of eeriness and terror, just like when astronauts standing on the moon look back at Earth, it would trigger involuntary fear from the depths of their hearts.

This seemed to be an infinitely vast space, where building phantoms floated in the boundless mid-air, as if they could be swallowed at any moment by the night wrapped in countless brilliant starlight all around.

Those four gigantic celestial bodies constantly radiated light and heat in all directions, illuminating countless moving figures within the building phantoms.

Those figures were numb, mechanical, like puppets, with no expression whatsoever on their faces, as if they had long lost the emotions humans should have, leaving only emptiness and... bewilderment and disbelief?

In the building phantoms, within the largest clock tower, the sound of writing accompanied Don's gesticulating voice.

This room he had created for himself incorporated some elements from his memories along with the arrangement of his study. Gray cashmere carpet was laid on the floor, huge floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the distant crimson moon, bookshelves were arranged against the walls, but on the spacious desk were several incongruously placed lit desk lamps—the modern style clashed somewhat with the medieval aesthetic, appearing alternative and abnormal.

Don wasn't alone here.

A woman in clerical robes stood beside the desk, somewhat numbly holding a small seal, stamping it on the bottom right corner of the mountain of parchments in front of her. Another young man with Intis features was equally numb, looking like he had been drained of his spirit by work, like an office worker who had worked 996 for a whole year, holding a pen and constantly writing and drawing on parchment.

Their movements weren't slow at all, but at this moment they were just like corporate slaves called up by their despicable boss to work overtime in the middle of the night, their entire beings radiating an aura of wanting to die and not wanting to live.

If they were marionettes with their own thoughts, they would definitely stab their master in the back without hesitation.

Corporate slaves... even marionettes are human!

Black-hearted boss Don leaned back in his soft armchair, currently holding the 'admission notices' they had stamped, taking a careful sip of his '82 vintage plain water, then picking up pastries from the table to savor.

He looked at the admission notice he had written, extremely satisfied.

"If there were mail-delivering owls, professors who could transform into cats, a white-bearded old man, and a young man named 'Harry Potter' to go with this, it would be even more immersive."

Putting down the admission notice, Don stood up from the wide high-backed chair.

The ring on his little finger was heating up frantically—the theater core seemed about to go berserk beyond control!

God knows what this person—what this person had been doing these past few days? Making such a mess of this place!

The theater core, full of resentment, had already begun planning its assassination scheme. Don looked up toward the doorway where a tall man was looking at him, fire practically shooting from his eyes.

"Yo." Don even politely waved at him. "Please come in."

This was one of only two demigod-level marionettes in the theater, a Sequence 3 of the Red Priest pathway—War Bishop.

But obviously, this marionette being here now wasn't work he had arranged.

Going against the Ring of the Curator's arranged work—there was only one possibility.

This War Bishop entered the room, quite rudely taking a seat across from Don with bold strides.

Don also sat down.

"What.are.you.doing?"

The War Bishop's booming voice made the surrounding marionettes who were still copying 'admission notices' involuntarily tremble. Two special beings who could control them currently had conflicting opinions—if a dispute broke out... ah, who should they help?

Forget it, they'd better backstab the black-hearted boss instead.

Resentment +10086.

"It seems your activity level is really quite strong."

Don didn't directly answer the other's question, but instead looked up and down at the War Bishop before him, judging the current state of this sealed artifact.

After being optimized by the system, he had also looked at this sealed artifact's core several times, but each time the 'activity' the other displayed wasn't as intense as this time—it seemed to be deliberately avoiding him.

"Much stronger than the activity displayed by most sealed artifacts I know of."

Whether it was the previous magic performances or the various emotions the theater had displayed during this period, if Don wasn't certain this was a sealed artifact, he would even think he was facing a living Miracle Invoker.

Able to communicate normally, rather than being a quill pen that frantically wanted to write its user to death, a rule book that would write creepy rules at the drop of a hat, or gloves and canes that wanted to sing and dance.

A normal state...

"I really want to kill you."

The War Bishop slowly spoke.

Sealed artifacts, especially those with strong 'living' characteristics, wanted nothing more than to break free from their sealed state every moment, kill their holders, and escape their predicament—this was the instinctive reaction of the 'living' them.

"Mm-hmm, I know." Don nodded. "If possible, I'll also scatter you when I advance to Miracle Invoker."

That way, he would have his Sequence 2 potion secured.

The two of them were inherently in an adversarial relationship.

If not for the intervention of higher-level 'rules,' even after sealing the Theater With Curtains That Never Draw, using it would require layers of precautions and seals to ensure one's own safety, lest the theater turn oneself into a marionette as well.

Rather than like this—mobilizing the theater's internal resources, even having an equal dialogue with this 'living' sealed artifact core.

Only with the interference of a powerful third-party force could such a peculiar result occur.

[Hehe.]

"...System, could you please give me a heads up when you're about to speak?" He was nearly scared to death, thinking this marionette was about to stab him.

[Sorry, sorry, host.]

The War Bishop showed no abnormal reaction to Don's answer. He could think normally, so naturally he could clearly understand that Beyonder characteristics were indestructible—he himself was the simplest shortcut to obtaining a Miracle Invoker potion.

And now, with 'rule' intervention, he had no way to kill the weak Beyonder before him.

"So, before that happens, what are you planning to do here?"

The question of potion ownership didn't need discussion at all. When the time came, even if he... it faced the 'parasite' within the Beyonder before him, it would resist frantically!

However, that should all be issues for much later. The current problem was—

"Isn't this obvious?" Don seemed puzzled. "I thought you could see it."

He said, "I want to open a school."

Not just recruiting ordinary people, but also recruiting Beyonders, providing systematic education.

The War Bishop had an expression of 'are you kidding me.'

What decent person would think to come study in here? To be strung up as a marionette for fun?

(End of Chapter)