The front of the tent flapped like a bird's wings, and fire flared out of it like a dragon's breath, vanishing just an inch away from their face. A red carpet rolled out of the tent like the slim, long tongue of a beast on which the puppet master walked.

"Welcome. Let's start the game," he bowed.

The clown reached the center, grinning. The carpet somehow became transparent as it rolled past their body—already strung by his puppet master’s string. His velvet coat was not made of human skin; rather, eyes grafted on the shoulder like honor badges. His grin, swivel spin, and the way his eyes glimmered with shine.

Amaryllis looked at the ground. "He's using some kind of magic." And it affected her mind.

"H-he's actual—I mean real, Seran, a pure-blooded Seran...." Huan muttered. For the first time, he seemed unconfident and scared, dare she say, scared shitless. "We all run in different directions. The one who dies... dies. The rest of us will survive."

"None of us will survive." Gisella sounded equally tense. "Mire, how long before you can create that magic again? We will keep him busy until then."

"Four minutes—" Mire’s hand moved and punched her own face. Her lower jaw turned red, but her body remained rigid. The fist then pulled back like a snake, staring into Mire's eyes. She struggled to move her face but to no avail. The fist moved, leaving an afterimage behind, smashing right on her chin. Mire let out a pained moan as tears trickled down her face.

"Four what?" The puppeteer smiled. His blood lips reached his ears, showing yellow canine teeth. "Four what?" He mocked again. "Tut. Tut. Did your stepmother never teach you manners? Never leave your sentence half. Finish it!" He hissed in her face.

"F-four minu—" her hand moved again, cutting her off in mid-sentence. This time, the right eye.

“I said, complete your goddamned sentence.” He raised his hand and slapped Huan, who was right beside Mire—frozen in dread. The fingerprints ridged across his pale skin. “That hurts?” He asked.

Huan glared. The strings dug into his clothes as he tried to lunge at the puppeteer. But he remained frozen in his place.

“Blame her, little weakling. She couldn’t even finish her words.” He slapped Huan again. This time, he growled like a feral beast and bit at his hand. His teeth clamped down loudly. But the white glove had already moved away. The puppeteer grinned. “And another lout. Well, we cannot expect much from the son of a drunkard single father.”

“Watch your mouth, bastard!” Huan's expression twisted painfully. The strings dug into his neck. A slim cut squeezed out blood like a wet sponge pressed with a knife.

“Scream again. A little louder, show us what your drunkard has taught you,” He turned dramatically, bowing in front of Mire. “My lady, am I required to write a letter for you to complete your words?”

Mire's eyes quivered.

What kind of situation was it? How are we supposed to deal with this thing? Amaryllis gulped. Her eyes reflected the fist that raised again. But she couldn’t watch anymore. Something about letting him do it while she kept her mouth shut to avoid his attention, knowing full well he’d be on her once he finished his torture, just made her mind feel weak. A different kind of weakness than a physical one. One that was absolutely unacceptable. She was more than that. Her eyes flicked at Gisella, who had not shown signs of moving once.

Amaryllis decided to trust that Gisella had something in her mind. She had to. Otherwise, it was all but over. She tried to reach for Mire, but her body remained unmoving, as she expected.

“What did your father teach you? Mockery? Grinning like a pathetic clown? Wait… Did you even have one? Your behavior seems like a hollow mockery of human emotions as if… You’re jealous of us,” Amaryllis asked tonelessly. Her voice showed no sign of tension. Or fear. Just the lack of everything a human voice should have.

“Amaryllis!” He squealed animatedly. Mire’s fist dropped as he shifted his attention to her. He bowed, taking off his top hat. Something fell off of it. A head. Very small for an adult human. Amaryllis's guts twisted. She couldn't turn away. She could squeeze her eyes shut, which he left intentionally, to show how easy it was to make her react. She didn’t let him have his glee. That’s what it wanted, to put on a show. And she was the puppet. He was the puppeteer. And the audience? The Soul Hunt. Was Light among those? She didn’t want to believe. She knew Sanguine wasn’t.

Jet black hair sprawled out of the head, like a diver of darkness swallowing blood-covered grass. The head belonged to a girl. Her expression frozen still in shock. Eyes wide. Far too young to be a criminal.

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Finally, her mind accepted that these were real humans butchered mercilessly. And those bastards, the soul hunters, were using them as a sick joke. Playing with their corpses. She didn't want to believe she so desperately wished to become one of them. What would her sister think if she knew what she was doing to keep her alive? Something boiled in her heart. Cold and dreadful. It twisted inside her heart, creating pain, but kept her mind clear. Focused.

"Is that rage?" He grinned, his eyes boring into her. He attempted to intimidate her, but the only thing she felt was anger. Her lightless, dreary eyes stared back. His grin widened.

“Amaryllis! Amaryllis! How nice. How young. How naive. Shall we test how much mettle those eyes truly hold?" He jumped, gliding in the air, and landed in front of her with the grace of an ice skater. He wrapped his hand around her waist and took her hand.

He reeked of death. And Amaryllis felt nausea. They twirled like balls in movies. Then he let go. She dropped. Her clothes became wet from the blood on the ground.

Her eyes stared at the sky. And what hung in it. Her pupils contracted, reflecting the starry sky, the brilliant moon, and a dot hanging in the air.

The dot was a cage. There were four children inside. Alive. She could see their mouths open to scream, but no words came out. Amaryllis tried to keep herself from shrieking, but it was hard.

Something about seeing children cry pained her. Perhaps, for how little guilty they were for everything that happened to them. And powerless. Reminded her of her own powerlessness. He peered down at her, blocking the sight of the hung cage.

"You bastard!" Her nerves turned inky black.

Amaryllis swung her sword. The clown moved just at the right time, her sword reflecting in his gleefully bloody eyes, which followed the whole arc from left to right. He never once attempted to hurt her, which grazed Amaryllis's pride. He was treating her like a fragile princess, naive and hot-blooded. Not like a threat that he must break like Mire and Huan. She tried again, to the same effect, and then the string halted her movement.

"Still as angry... Aren't you a hero of justice? Maybe... just maybe... we'll have a winner. Right!" He jumped back, dodging Huan's swing. Huan was now covered in blood, wearing a lightning aura. She still managed to note that the lightning didn’t reach the puppeteer as they did the puppet in the alley.

"Right!" He clapped. "We play Save the Kids! Now," he snapped his finger. And the cage dropped from the sky.

Amaryllis tried to move. The string of the clown dug into her flesh. She still clawed. Once her skin began to cut, she forced herself to stop.

Their cries finally echoed, wrenching her gut. Mana burst from her heart like a dam. Overflowing and frying her nerves. String dug again as she moved, but she managed to harden her skin enough to move without being rent into pieces. They still stopped her like a fly in a web.

Amaryllis let go of a little self-control she had. Why did she even feel so fevered to save them? She didn’t understand. Maybe to tell herself how kind she was. Or to tell her sister she wasn’t like the rest of the soul hunters. That she wouldn’t lose her humanity for power. Or just to whisper to herself when everything felt overwhelming, she had the power to save someone. For a brief moment, she held control of four lives that were about to be brutally shattered.

She moved. And the puppeteer didn’t stop her, busy with Huan in a dance of the shining blade. In her fever rush, she didn’t even think how she would catch a metal cage, filled with four children’s weight. It would crush her if she went under it. Finally, her steps paused.

"Catch it!" Gisella shouted. Amaryllis turned.

Gisella's hand bled, but she managed to rip it free. "Reverse." She uttered and clutched the air in her arm. It twisted. The cage's weight lightened.

Amaryllis remembered how Gisella had increased their weight in the security office, and assumed she had done the opposite. She went under the cage and raised her hand. Huan kept attacking the puppeteer, who dodged and grinned, not paying attention to the cage.

It landed. It was still heavy, but she wasn’t crushed. Catching it was like a puppet made of metal slamming on her head. Her arm burned as it landed. She ground her teeth. But the impact finally relented. She placed it on the floor. Heaving, she dropped to her knees. Her clothes barely held together after the strings dance. But they wouldn't last long.

[Auxiliary Task: Save The Kids I Completed.

Reward: 100 Points divided between Gisella and Amaryllis equally.]

Amaryllis saw red. Her brain throbbed with rage. They were those bastards from Soul Hunt, treating this like a game. An auxiliary task. Saving the lives of children, they called it a task. Amaryllis wanted to tear whoever thought of this limb from limb. Even if everything was fake, which didn’t believe possible, they were taking it too far.

Calm down... She said to herself. It helped just a little to clear her thoughts.

She looked at the puppeteer.

The clown's grin widened. He shifted his shoulder a little and let the sword descend. Huan had used his whole body's weight in that swing, and he momentarily shook as it crashed into the earth. The puppeteer kneed his gut, making him cough. He grabbed Huan's face with his palm, squeezed it, and threw it into the air like a paper doll.

Huan flung his arm and leg, trying to find a semblance of control, to no avail. The puppeteer kicked his rib like a football as he dropped. But humans could never fly like a ball on impact. He rolled a meter on the ground, writhing in pain. His pained expression made Amaryllis turn away from the sight. But she couldn't just do that. His shaken scream reached her ears.

She channeled mana into her burning nerves. They were black without even mana from the damage—throbbing in pain. The pain increased tenfold.

"Let's try again," she said, emotionlessly, pointing her sword at the puppeteer. Her eyes glowed black—a pool of lightless rage.

"Oh dear, you sure?" The puppeteer grinned.