They gathered at the exit after opening the gate, which immediately split into three paths. But the way they divided, Amaryllis was sure, every single one of them led to the same location—the circus. The paths were divided to control the crowds. Where did the crowd come from? Somewhere from the eternal darkness surrounding this piece of land, encased in a cage that seemed to touch the sky. Only visible paths led forward.

The towering tent stood at the end of the narrow alley. Red and white stripes ran along the length. White was mute, beaten into suppression, but red roared under the moonlight like a smooth streaming river under the sun. It must have been the fabric that moved in the air, yet the red spilled like a thick tar. Atop the tent, a horrifying sign hung—Circus, it read. Soft human skin hugged its frame snugly.

Amaryllis jerked her head down. Was that an eye? It couldn't be. There was no way the Soul Hunt would use real humans for this, right? The government would never let them get away with it.

Light's ominous words echoed in Amaryllis's ears. She had to receive something, or she would be a follower, again a second rate. Yet she didn't know what. And not receiving would be a good thing, even best, but most likely not. Those words left a void in her mind, consuming all her mental strength. She couldn't afford to ponder on that thing in this place. Yet her mind refused to let go. Depending on how it went she could be living a very different life. And she wanted the better one, for her sister's sake and her own.

Amaryllis knew Gisella would be the unquestioned leader after the slaughter fest of monsters. And her own chance of becoming a leader was snuffing out. Still, she knew how to not behave like a whiny child. Unless she had something to offer, she had to watch it from the sidelines. A burden she was. She reminded herself of the extra reward for the tenth time in the last minute, and its effects were nonexistent. Powerlessness was a feeling she was all too familiar with, even if she could not stand it.

"Where do we go?" Mire asked. Amaryllis looked at her. Behind her, on a pole, there was a map of this place. She hurried past her and read it. An emergency exit, locked and guarded, was behind the circus, in case of fire or something. That would be the exit. She used the sword edge to peel out the glued map, and with magical grace, she mapped it out in one piece. Amaryllis smiled as she looked through it. It was a fine piece of paper. Amaryllis's smile deepened. It had a name and marker for everything in this place.

"It will certainly help," Amaryllis said, "I hope." She added.

"We should..." Huan was about to suggest, but Amaryllis cut in, knowing he would want to split again.

"No. We will not split unless we are sure whatever demon is here if you can handle it. And every mechanism from here would work even if one of us died."

Don't split up unless the situation demands it. By demand, Light must have meant some sort of mechanism. And asking not to would signify we need to open more than one mechanism. Or at least Light believes that is the case. And whatever a leader is supposed to get here, it is possible even when I'm in a group, or only when I'm in a group. Since it is related to leadership. But we all have an equal chance to acquire it, don’t we?

"Amaryllis is correct." Mire was the first to agree. And Huan did, too.

"I was not going to split up anyway,” Gisella huffed, “We opened the door upon agreement of working together after all."

Should I share what was written in that letter? Amaryllis considered, then dropped it. She would once they were at the point of splitting. It wouldn't have any effect, as long as they were together, other than increasing Huan's thirst for leadership. Gisella should already know if she had a connection with Soul Hunt beforehand. And Mire's father made this kind of thing, but on a grander scale, so he should also be a bigwig person. That means only she and Huan had the least knowledge.

Their eyes finally observed the passage. At first glance, nothing. A tinge of death permeated in the air. Thick scent of blood. The shimmering world behind the passages still attracted their attention. Weird and wild rides that reached the heights Amaryllis had only seen in the movies. She wouldn't dare to ride any of those. She wasn't the adventurous type, if you hadn't guessed. Or she might be if she didn't have all the burden pressing her into a mold.

Once Amaryllis looked down from the bigger tent and rides, at the barren street, her heart leapt out of her chest. People and everything inside a human littered across the floor. Pavement covered in blood. Someone hung off the poles. Another limped on the counter. As if one moment they were having fun, and then before they even knew—death and gore embraced them.

"Are they real?" Huan questioned. "They're just for the aesthetic, right?"

"I doubt it. That'd be pretty cheap for the organization. I say they are criminals on death row," Mire added, looking at Amaryllis as if expecting her to agree.

Amaryllis, of course, didn't. The only thing she had to say was that this was a gruesome sight, and she'd rather not see, but it was a reality. One she must grow to accept. Her eyes remained fixated on the dead bodies. Their hollow eyes made her soul recoil out of her body. Reminded of the thing, Amaryllis sharply shook her head. Focus.

"Amaryllis?"

"I'm fine." She answered breathlessly. "Absolutely nothing happened. Which one should we take?"

"If we are taking one, then we go center," Huan explained. Loudly. And stomped his way down. He's still hopeful of becoming the leader.

"Huan. I think we should go left," Amaryllis said, placing her finger on her lips to quiet him. "Listen," She gestured for him to come closer. And he did, strangely so. "You already screamed where we are going, so this route leads to an ambush. We can also go right if you want. Just keep your voice low." Amaryllis spoke in the same tone as Cynthia used to when she threw a tantrum, rarely. She wasn't a whiny child.

"I'm not a child. Fine, we go left."

A voice 'khekeked' in her mind. Something about it felt sinister. A real seran. The answer came from her soul. [You will, indeed, take the center passage and meet me in the grand circus. Have you seen a real demon before? Do you want to see what makes us immortal? Come and find out. Fear not, for you're not at risk. The real hunt begins after an opening act. Kekekeke.] It was a slimy, husky whisper. She felt violated by its whisper in her mind. All others wore the same dreaded expression.

Then the voice cut off. And just like Clownman, they felt a surreal sense of pain, but milder. "Shit!" Huan screamed.

"What do we do?" Gisella asked, through her gritted teeth.

"We can just not go..." Mire looked down. "If they are simulating a real-life situation, then why are we forced to go forward only... unless this is the seran's doing and not the hunt's."

"This is a sick joke," Amaryllis whispered. "They just locked us up with a real demon for shits and giggles." Not them. Me. They can still kill it. She sighed.

"We have to go in since that's the only way. As for how much we trust a demon's words... I don't know. Are they honorable? And if he can speak in our head... how are we supposed to escape? Unless he's speaking to a certain radius instead of specific targets... Do we have a way to know?" She kicked a pebble as if that would lessen the sharp pain.

"Deception," Mire began, "this creature is all about deception and trickery. You said you dropped out in the first year, so you might not know. But all Seran follow a path. Of course, none is easy, but few are trickier. Deception is one of them. Trickster types of demons have the power to communicate in our minds directly. It should be a radius since the specific target is a very different category altogether. But..." Mire raised her face, pale as chalk, and her eyes red, "I never thought the hunt would drop me in front of a real seran with strangers who are just one step away from becoming enemies." She sniffed, "Let's try not to die."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Wimp. We are gonna kill that thing," Huan said with a confident smile. Amaryllis would have preferred to think it was out of strength, but she knew it was most likely out of ignorance.

"Should we take left?" Gisella asked, looking at them. "How about we vote on every decision? If it's split between two and two, we toss for the fifth vote."

"Left."

They all agreed unanimously.

For the first few moments, they were surrounded by the overgrowth as they took the left side. Then, it was replaced by rows of tent stalls, stripes of red and white, and a table counter in front of the tent. Popcorn. Sweet. Shooting games. Hoop throw. Etc. Everything was there. But none handled by man. Blood covered everything, ruining their worth.

"Shit... they are real," Huan said, poking a corpse of a hefty man with his toe. Amaryllis shivered just looking at his bravado. Jealousy bubbled in her heart. She wanted that kind of carefree attitude.

"We will be like them if you don't stop talking," Mire said. Mire's hand glowed, and an orb of red materialized in it. As big as a football. "We should each keep one of our weapons in hand."

"Right...." Amaryllis sighed. This sword could kill monsters, but Seran and monsters with Seran blood were a different matter. Only a soul-forged weapon could kill them. One that Mire, Gisella, and Huan had. And they also had an ability, if she had to guess.

Skitch!

Amaryllis squirmed, looking down at her foot. A long innard of someone was in the middle of the pavement, blood absorbed by the thirsty, cracked land as the innard sprayed it crushed by her weight. Her stomach knotted. But she kept her cool. Silently moving away. Jerking her feet with enough strength to free them out of their socket. But not once showing her inner turmoil.

“Ew…” Huan made a face. You were poking a corpse, dumbass! Sometimes, she wished she was a loud and rude brute.

They suspended mid-step. Something shifted. Amaryllis felt it in her bones. She looked behind her.

[Kekekeke. I said take the middle path.]

They all looked back. A gentleman, lean built, tall, with a charming voice, stood where they had been. He wore a white clown mask with a bloody smile. Everything about the mask felt real. Especially the blood. She couldn't imagine it being anything but the real blood of a human left in the open to dry to get the pigment for his mask.

"That's a Demon. Right, Concept type: trickery. A clown mask suits him." Huan said. Perhaps for the first time, he knew something.

His eyes fixated on Amaryllis, who involuntarily took a step back. The most dreadful part about him was the suit he wore—made of flesh, human flesh. She could see eyes and mouths, tongues jutting out. It was as if he jerked out all the bones and sewed the rest as a costume. Her stomach rolled. But she couldn't just vomit in front of a Demon. The vomiting part came after they had survived. Alone. In the cold, colorless bathroom.

The other three didn't dare to move. Gisella kept her face plain, but Amaryllis knew she must be tense because her own face showed no emotion.

Huan breathed loudly, holding onto his sword tightly. He seemed like a wounded predator, dying to pounce on the prey. Completely different from before.

"Keke, let's not do something stupid. Right," he whispered very close to her ears. He hung his hand in the air; thin strings rolled down from them. He looked down as if prepared to perform a puppet show. His index finger twitched. Their bodies tightened, smoothly wrapped in the strings.

"That's not a trickster..." Mire uttered. Her eyes widened in despair. "But a puppet of a puppeteer."

"Now... as I said, it's the opening act. The Hunt... hunt of the wannabe soul hunters begins, once the opening act concludes. Now, follow me."

The strings around her neck tightened as her muscles fought against her will to move. She resisted.

Huan was the first to move. Lightning burst out of his body, crashing into the puppet master through the strings. He stayed frozen for a brief moment, just enough for Huan to strike him with his sword. It connected to his neck. The flesh elongated like rubber. And he ricocheted off, crashing into the overgrowth.

He burst out. Human organs popped out like air in a balloon. Huan let out a panicked shriek and jumped back before blood could splash on him. Smoke rose wherever the blood splattered.

Acidic blood. Puppets that can be controlled from afar. And strong enough to take care of adult humans without mana. But strings are in a different league compared to other things. Amaryllis observed in her mind. Her body finally gave in to her will.

"It's tricky, alright," Huan said. "But Mire already figured out it was a puppet, didn't she? We are going to be fine."

"I did. I can feel his mana now that I've seen it. This path has... a lot of living creatures, monsters. Not all of them have the same mana flow. They are just monsters. He's infusing his blood in a few of those monsters. An uncountable number of puppets are in this path, most likely every dead human. They will overwhelm us instantly." Mire, for some reason, looked at her. "Should we go to the center or try right? He wants us to go through the center, that's why he's using so many puppets here. We don't have the numbers to compete."

Amaryllis shifted awkwardly. She could make the decision, and none of them were against it outwardly. "We can vote. That's the safest bet to not freak out our fragile team bond."

This cannot last long. We have no idea what we are doing. None of us. How do we deal with a puppeteer using a different skill of a different path, or can the puppeteer use radius telepathy, as well, and he knows where we are moving? Is that another skill?

"Can he see what his puppets see?" She asked.

"He cannot," Gisella answered. "But he can feel our mana signature through the strings he could've hidden anywhere in the ground."

"Right, then there's no point in trying right. We should take the middle alley and see what he has planned for us," Amaryllis suggested.

The others nodded in agreement.

When they returned, they realized. The front of the security area choked out a mouthful of blood, bubbling from the ground like a broken pipe. They shifted away. "We won't be able to return once we choose a path. Center it is?"

Huan looked around as if searching for the pipe. Amaryllis didn't understand the reason why. It made perfect sense that the clown wanted them to play puppets in his circus, and running back would ruin his play.

Gisella is far too indecisive. Mire is no different. They want to proceed further. For that reason, she felt stupid to care about the leadership and shamelessly blamed Light for it, as she corrupted her paranoid mind.

Without many words, they took the middle one. And they encountered almost similar sights. The path was wider and bloodier, and human remains were equally high. Just from the clothes, Amaryllis could tell either they were real civilians, or someone had placed a lot of focus on overall realism. Either way, she had a hard time withstanding the smell, thick enough that she could taste the blood in her throat.

Why is there not a real soul hunter in this place? Someone should have saved the people.

"Wait..." Mire whispered.

Amaryllis closed her eyes, sensing the creatures ahead. She was good at sensing mana. But not as good as Mire. Average, she believed. Four puppets. No... She looked at the end of the alley. A hulking miasma of corruption growled its way toward them. It was slow but huge, overflowing with murky mana.

"Are they corrupted by blood?"

"No. Infected have denser mana channels. They are just puppets." Mire affirmed.

"Then, I'll take care of it," Huan said. He took the front.

Amaryllis, in the meantime, shifted to Gisella's side. "Can I ask you something?" Amaryllis said. She had a suspicion. And now that Huan was not close enough to hear them, she decided it was the best time to ask.

"Go ahead."

"You don't have a soul-forged weapon either," Amaryllis watched her face. Gisella didn't show it visibly, but her pace did slow a little. As for how she guessed. First, Gisella was the strongest of them all yet didn’t move first, because she was blind to mana sense, and couldn’t tell it was a puppet, and she had no way of killing a real seran. Thus she remained still much like Amaryllis.

"Right," Gisella answered, painfully quieter. "I didn't think we would face a real Seran this early in the assessment, or I wouldn’t have made that foolish decision."

"Do you think we have a chance against the Puppeteer?"

"With those two... I don't."