It wasn't strange that it could laugh, because it was a human head.
The scene grew increasingly bizarre, but Fu Qian could still see everything clearly.
When the box opened, what appeared on the back of the Deer Cart was unmistakably a head, slightly smaller than a normal one.
Every feature was lifelike and fleshy, and there even seemed to be an explanation for its small size: its entire outer layer had been peeled away.
That was right—it looked just like the scraps left over after making a Human Skin Mask.
Not a single spot had been missed. The tissue beneath the skin was exposed everywhere, and even its eyes were gone.
And yet, even in that state, as the head spoke, its empty sockets turned precisely toward them. The air was instantly thick with horror.
"So this is its true form?"
It was a pity, but the atmosphere was being wasted on the wrong person.
Fu Qian, who was usually the one giving others psychological scars, saw something else in it. He turned to confirm with the Witch.
"I thought so too, but he doesn't come out to greet us often."
The Witch was even busier. As she answered, she reached out into the air again, and a cluster of blood-red spikes appeared.
So that really was the case. No wonder it was a core element of this place.
With his theory confirmed, Fu Qian felt he had gained an even deeper understanding of the strange Doll Workshop and its corporate culture—
At first, Ailuo had used cotton in place of flesh.
Then the Hand Reader had gone a clear step further. No longer satisfied with a mere Mystical Prosthetic, he had tried to transform himself more radically, and his sense of self had grown somewhat blurred.
As for