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The Endless Abyss
CH2—A Puppet's Heart

CH2—A Puppet's Heart

In mere seconds, the ghoul closed in. Aldric remained eerily calm - or perhaps that fear had become so microscopic it could no longer affect him. Just as the ghoul was about to pounce, Aldric leaned back, shoving open the temple door. He whipped his right hand back, using it as an anchor against the ground. The instant he unlocked his muscle limiters, his right arm exploded with power - muscles bulging and veins snaking across his skin like living ropes. With a burst of superhuman strength, he launched himself out of harm's way

The ghoul's incredible speed became its downfall - it couldn't brake in time and charged straight into the temple. Two blood-curdling screams pierced the air - one from the old man, the other from the ghoul itself

Rising to his feet, Aldric watched as the ghoul literally melted like a candle under the firelight. This confirmed his earlier calculations: even with his muscle limiters completely released, he wouldn't have lasted 10 seconds in a direct fight. But the game's hints had suggested fire as the ghoul's weakness. Without that advantage, even three Aldrics probably couldn't take down one ghoul - and the old man would've been dead meat, making the whole game pointless.

So he'd baited the ghoul into facing the flames directly, testing its fire resistance. The answer was now clear as the creature writhed in agony, its razor-sharp claws leaving desperate gashes across its own body. It couldn't even muster the strength to flee, ultimately dissolving into a puddle of viscous fluid, leaving behind only its tattered hemp clothing and a putrid stench.

Panting heavily, Aldric picked up the firewood he'd dropped outside and shut the temple door. The old man remained paralyzed with fear, clutching his puppet like a lifeline.

"You alright, old timer? The monster's dead - no need to worry anymore," Aldric reassured him while shaking snow off the firewood. Seeing steam rise from the logs near the fire, he sighed in relief. Once dried, these would keep the flame going until dawn.

"That... that nearly scared me to death," the old man finally managed, patting his chest nervously. He glanced uneasily at the pool of melted remains, then hesitantly shuffled back to his spot. "Young master, your courage is admirable. Facing such an evil spirit without flinching! Unlike me, this old man here who nearly got scared half to death!"

"You're too kind, sir. I just have a bit of nerve, that's all," Aldric replied, arranging the firewood. His eyes were drawn to something crystalline among the ghoul's remains. Using a strip of his transformed school uniform as protection, he retrieved both the hemp clothing and the crystal.

"Young master, that garment is tainted with filth," the old man said curiously. "Though the weather is cold, we can manage by the fire. There's no need to wear that hemp cloth."

"It's fine, it just needs drying," Aldric responded, laying the garment near the wood to dry. Secretly, he examined the crystal, and a notification appeared:

[Special Item Acquired: Rule Module: Fixed]

[Rule Module: Rules are the principles of heaven and earth, Rule Modules are their crystallized manifestations...]

[This module's nature: Fixed]

"A special item?" As Aldric inspected the 'Fixed' rule module, he pondered the ghoul's special ability of 'state lock'. If one looked closely, this ability was truly monstrous - essentially locking its form in time, so that any damage would revert it to its original state. If not for the ghoul's many weaknesses, it would have been a truly bug-level being.

"Ah, I'm getting old," the old man sighed, absently stroking the puppet's arm. " Back in my younger days, I feared nothing. One time, my parents told me to go pay respects to a local teacher, but on the way, I heard the sound of puppet show bells and couldn't resist running off to watch the performance, forgetting all about my studies! My parents gave me a real thrashing for that, but even after they beat me, I still couldn't help stopping in my tracks whenever I heard those bells!"

"You must have been quite the character back then," Aldric smiled.

"Character? I was just a playful fool. Those puppets on the red stage captivated my soul. No matter how my parents tried to stop me, I insisted on apprenticing under the puppeteer." The old man's voice was thick with nostalgia. "That's how I joined the trade. Spent my whole life performing puppet shows, wandering without settling down. All my savings went into making her," he gestured to the puppet girl in his arms.

"Being able to dedicate your life to something - that's a real talent," Aldric remarked. "And this puppet, sir - she's truly stunning, like a divine maiden. I'm quite envious of your craftsmanship."

"Ah, I must be boring you with these old tales," the old man sighed, pulling out an oilpaper package from his small wooden box. Inside were two oil cakes. He tore the paper and offered one to Aldric. "You must be hungry after gathering all that wood. Please, have some if you don't mind."

Aldric glanced at the wooden box before accepting the cake with a smile. "How could I mind? I just hope you won't regret sharing your food with me."

"Regret? Never!" the old man gave a bitter laugh but said nothing more, focusing on his meal. Aldric didn't stand on ceremony either, finding the cake quite tasty. After some light conversation, they fell into comfortable silence. In the firelight, the old man, perhaps tired, dozed off using his wooden box as a pillow.

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The moment the old man closed his eyes, Aldric's inner alarms blared to life. A palpable malice surged forth, his sixth sense shrieking dire warnings of impending peril!

The flames before him flickered, casting shadows on the ground, while terrifying howls echoed from outside the broken temple. Lu Li’s head grew heavy, and he was about to drift into unconsciousness. Just as his eyelids began to droop, he caught sight of the puppet-like girl across from him in the firelight, who gave him a quick wink…

Aldric’s head shot up as his eyes snapped open. A creeping sense of malice seeped from all around him. The decrepit temple had vanished without a trace, leaving only the flickering campfire and the old man, still dozing on his small wooden chest. But something was off—the elder seemed faint, almost like an apparition rather than a living being.

“Red snow?” Aldric murmured. With the temple gone, the snowflakes fell freely. He extended his hand, catching one, only to find it was blood-red. As the flake melted into the fire, a faint hiss sounded, and the flames flickered, dimming slightly.

His visible surroundings were confined to the area illuminated by the fire. Beyond that, only darkness stretched. Within the shadows, something shifted—maybe slithered. Aldric felt those hidden beings, lurking in the darkness, their eyes on him, full of malicious intent.

“Where’s that puppet?” Aldric glanced around, noticing the puppet that the old man had always kept by his side was missing. He recalled, just before he had fainted, the puppet had winked at him.

Suddenly, a piercing scream of pain echoed from the darkness. Aldric’s gaze darted toward the source, and he saw two shadowy figures locked in fierce combat. One figure was forced back, stumbling closer to the firelight—it was a ghoul.

A massive stone hurtled out from the shadows, slamming into the ghoul and sending it sprawling to the ground. The ghoul’s chest caved in from the impact—a wound that would have killed an ordinary human instantly. But the ghoul’s chest began to mend before his very eyes, the blood retreating back into its body, sealing the wound within seconds.

Just as the ghoul let out a roar and rose to lunge again, another stone smashed into its head, crushing it inward. Before it could regenerate, the shadowy figure dashed up to it, kicking it square in the chest and forcing it back toward the fire.

The ghoul was now fully exposed to the firelight, and its skin began to melt. Its movements slowed, its strength seemingly sapped. Then, bound by some unknown force, it was dragged closer to the fire. Its agonized screams filled the air, only to dissolve as its body liquefied and evaporated into nothing.

With the ghoul defeated, the shadowy figure stepped into the firelight—it was the old man’s puppet. But now, she appeared strikingly lifelike, her joints barely visible, her face adorned with delicate expressions, every subtle smile or frown filled with an enchanting charm. She retrieved her threads, gliding over to Aldric with a graceful bow, and to his surprise, she spoke in human words: “Greetings, my lord.I hope this night finds you well.

A system prompt appeared in Aldric’s mind as she approached:

[Monster Discovered. Updating Data…]

[Marionette of Threads]

[Physical Assessment: 2.17; Life Energy Generation: 0.0 (Crafted from rare wood, imbued with her creator’s entire soul, giving her remarkable resilience)]

[Soul Assessment: 2.37; Spiritual Energy Generation: 1.38 (No one knows how she gained a soul—perhaps it’s a miracle?)]

[Category: Spiritual Parasite]

[Creation Cause: A soul spawned within the puppet, possibly due to her creator’s devotion and focused spirit, resulting in this wonder!]

[Special Abilities: (1) Thread Control: The strings that once controlled her now dance to her will.(2) Tear of Enchantment: A single tear glistens at the corner of her eye, stunning in its beauty, capable of consuming spiritual energy to charm others.]

[Weakness: As a puppet, she cannot stray far from her master.]

[Monster Evaluation: To possess her is to possess a lifelong blessing.]

Aldric blinked, still trying to make sense of everything. “Can you tell me what’s really going on here? And…where exactly is this place?” He cast a glance at the old man, who was still fast asleep, oblivious to the fierce battle that had just erupted nearby. By any normal standard, he should’ve woken up by now. Yet, somehow, he was sleeping soundly, undisturbed. Something felt deeply off.

“Allow me to explain, my lord, if you’ll bear with me.” The marionette’s voice was clear and captivating, holding his full attention. Her gaze softened as she looked at the sleeping elder, full of tender sorrow. “This is a realm between illusion and reality, a dream world. Countless demons and spirits linger here, preying on the souls of those who fall asleep. Ordinary people appear here once they dream, but they don’t wake. Here, the monsters are exceptionally powerful—I can only defend against them briefly, and even that is thanks to the fire keeping them at bay.”

“It’s only through my bond with my masterI was able to enter this place.” The puppet caught a red snowflake, watching its blood-red hue with despair. She knelt before Aldric, her voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re a remarkable person, my lord, to remain conscious here. Please, I beg of you, save my master! I have no way to repay you, but in my next life, I would gladly serve you however I could, to repay your kindness a hundredfold.”

“Miss, Please, there’s no need to be so formal” Aldric said hurriedly, helping her up. “The elder and I have had good talks; he even gave me food and shelter. I couldn’t just abandon him.” He paused, sighing. “But I’m afraid my abilities are limited, honestly. I’m not sure how much help I can really be.”

He hesitated, then added, “Besides, you know his condition better than I do. He has lost his will to live. Even if we save him now, can we really save him forever?”

Observing closely, Aldric had noticed that the elder had a deep-seated death wish. The accumulation of ashes by the firepit suggested he had been here a while, but he hadn’t gathered extra wood, even though the nearby hill was within reach. His every word and action had subtly hinted at his desire to end his journey.

The elder might have planned to finish his last meal and then drift into an endless sleep, letting the fire die out and succumbing to the winter cold. Aldric’s arrival had merely disrupted those plans.

“Yes… my master has longed for death, and it’s all my fault. I stole his best years.” The puppet’s wooden fingers gently brushed his gray hair, her tone filled with guilt and regret.

She remembered decades ago, when the elder, only in his thirties, had poured his savings and spirit into her creation, against his family’s wishes. She recalled the joy in his eyes as he watched her take form, the reverence with which he inked her features, his final touch—a tear at the corner of her eye. Perhaps that was when she’d gained her soul, her heart, her true self…

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