Chapter 232: Pinocchio's World

Damn, what a power! Jon muttered inwardly, clenching his fists in admire.

Unfortunately, there wasn't an evil witch nearby for him to judge and extract power from. According to the rules of his [Legendary Task], he could only gain memories and fragments of soul-bound power from those steeped in true evil.

Take Voldemort, for example. After judging him, Jon obtained not only his memories but also part of his magic, which meant he learned all of Voldemort's spells. But when he judged Muzan Kibutsuji, he only gained memories, not powers. Muzan's strength came from genetics, and the same rule applied to mutants: even after judging them, Jon couldn't replicate their abilities because mutant powers were encoded in their DNA.

However, according to what Antimora told him, witches were different. Their powers were mostly innate, but Jon had yet to notice anything genetically distinct about them. That meant a witch's abilities likely originated from the soul. So, if a truly wicked witch met the criteria for judgment, there was a strong chance he could inherit her powers.

Why can't I find a single evil witch to judge? Are you telling me that in this whole twisted fairytale world, there's not one villainous witch around? Jon silently raged.

That frustration also explained why no one in the town had ever directly mentioned the witch to him, even though she clearly held a revered position among the townsfolk. The King had enacted a Witch Hunt Decree, making it dangerous for anyone to even speak of a witch in front of outsiders like Jon.

All the villagers had voluntarily chosen to live inside the reality she created. The war had destroyed their homes, and they preferred escaping into her manufactured paradise.

At that moment, the witch led Jon to her dwelling—a tree hollow, just like Antimora's.

According to Antimora, deep within the forest bloomed a rare blue flower known as the Sky-Petal Orchid. It resembled the deathly Spider Lily, but its meaning was the opposite: it embodied life. From this flower, witches were born. The Sky-Petal Orchid would gather and distill the forest's purest energy, eventually producing a superior lifeform.

Witches were essentially spiritual incarnations of the forest's purest essence. Born from heaven and earth, they had no parents, much like the Monkey King in legend. Most couldn't leave the forest due to mystical restrictions, and only a few powerful witches could temporarily break those limits.

Then, the witch spoke.

"My name is Viola. I chose this name myself. We witches always name ourselves. And him—"

Viola looked at Pinocchio, her tone soft but calm.

"He is my younger brother."

"What?!" Jon's eyes widened in disbelief. "A witch… has a brother?"

It was known that witches were born individually from the nature. Could that magical flowers produce two beings?

Viola nodded. "It's rare, but not impossible. The Sky-Petal Orchid almost never produces male lifeforms, and when it does, they're usually... different. Unlike us witches, they lack many human characteristics. My brother and I were born from the same flower, but his body grew abnormally large. To humans, he looks more like a monster than a person."

"A monster?" Jon frowned. "In this world, being just over two meters tall counts as monstrous?"

Viola gave him a curious look. Jon quickly added, "Ahem, I used to live in a very isolated village. Still not too familiar with the world outside."

She seemed to accept the excuse and continued, "To outsiders, Pinocchio's appearance is frightening, so they rejected him."

"This world's beauty standards…" Jon muttered with a shake of his head. Pinocchio had the physique of a prime-era Arnold Schwarzenegger—his dream body! From what he'd seen earlier, Belle had preferred the delicate-looking prince over the war-scarred Gaston, showing that this world favored dainty aesthetics.

Most knights wouldn't dare to court a princess because royalty always leaned toward gentle, well-mannered noblemen. The rugged types were rarely seen as suitable.

"Later, he was burned alive by a group of villagers who believed he was a monster," Viola said, her voice suddenly tinged with sorrow.

"What?!" Jon's expression froze.

Viola opened her palm, and a tiny orb of shimmering white light appeared above it.

"This is my brother's soul. I sealed it after his death. I then handcrafted a puppet in his image and infused it with his soul. That puppet is who you know as Pinocchio," she explained.

"To protect him, I used all my power to build this pocket reality for the villagers, a fairy tale world where they could live in peace. The villagers revere me like a goddess, so they obey my every word. They would never treat my brother as a monster. In return, I asked only one thing: they respect him."

Jon finally understood. Pinocchio's "father" had been part of an elaborate script Viola had written for her brother. Pinocchio lived in a Truman Show-style world, carefully constructed by his sister.

"Whew..." Jon exhaled deeply. "Alright. Looks like I was wrong. My bad."

He had assumed the witch had trapped the villagers in a sinister illusion. But now he realized he had simply misjudged a desperate act of protection.

Viola shook her head gently. "It's fine. I brought you here because I value your abilities. I have a favor to ask."

"What kind of favor?" Jon asked.

"There is another witch working against me. Her interference is draining my magical reserves. Alone, I can't defeat her. But your flame, the one you attacked me with, burns magical essence. I believe you can destroy her."

"Another witch?" Jon tilted his head. "Let me ask: is she a good witch or a bad witch?"

Viola replied, "She uses human organs and bones to brew her potions. So, by human standards, I suppose you'd call her a bad witch."

Jon immediately stood up, eyes gleaming. "Excellent! Let's get going!"