"Your marionettes can be considered machines too, and they really do have 'machine spirits.' If a machine spirit is displeased, it affects the work. Sometimes that's the only thing standing between a good work and a perfect one. So if you don't understand, listen. Do as I say!"
Startled by Annan's sudden outburst, Baron Jinkaili froze for a moment before flying into a rage. "Young Miss Olmedo!"
Clatter—
The cup fell onto the carpet. The girl, still haunted by her earlier nightmare, whimpered and buried her head, trembling uncontrollably.
"What is it, Baron Jinkaili?" Annan met his gaze without fear.
Baron Jinkaili pointed at the dining table. "The Magic Stone is here. Get on with your explanation!"
As Annan had said before, Jinkaili was not someone to cross. But as an artist immersed in creating what he considered art, he had plenty of patience for people with talent.
"Because someone keeps wasting time with questions."
Annan strode over to the girl, picked up the cup, and set it aside. "Go relieve yourself. Any room will do, but don't think about escaping."
"Th... thank you..."
Her swollen feet squeezed into high heels, the girl stumbled out of the banquet hall.
Baron Jinkaili did not stop her. Compared with the knowledge Annan possessed, letting one puppet go meant nothing.
Besides, she could not leave the Manor anyway.
Annan activated the Magic Stone, projecting the Magic Film onto the banquet hall wall.
It was Annan's first work, and he had been pressed for time, so his handling of the visuals was still a little rough. Yet that lack of polish lent the images a sense of reality. With Jack playing cards on the street to earn his admission fee, it felt as though they were standing on that very street.
Annan pointed at