Rune Anomaly Puppet

Suren's gaze gradually grew grave as well.

Because his own hand had picked up a fork, speared a large bloody chunk of meat, and was bringing it toward his mouth.

If he didn't think of something—

He knew that if he failed to find a way out, that "Phantom Species" would play them to death sooner or later.

A terrifying manor, anomalous puppets, and a Phantom Species that enjoyed torturing humans to death.

Suren's thoughts raced.

Suddenly, something occurred to him, and inspiration flashed. "Since the Anomaly in this room has the power to kill us so easily, yet hasn't done so, that means it possesses intelligence—and not a low level of it."

A monster with intelligence was a good thing for him.

What he feared most was a monster that only knew instinctive slaughter. That would truly be a dead end.

Fighting was definitely out of the question.

But based on his experience from a thousand horror games and horror movies, as long as an NPC possessed intelligence, he could obtain a plot turning point—clues—through conversation.

The study, the corridor, the Banquet Hall—the clues in his mind suddenly connected from beginning to end.

Suren felt that he had probably found the key to breaking the deadlock!

"Phew..."

He let out a breath inwardly.

Suren decided to give it a try.

Then his expression abruptly sharpened, and he said something inexplicable to the empty air. "Miss Pestoya, may I have a chat with you?"

The moment he spoke, time itself seemed to freeze.

Even Suren's right hand, which was feeding meat into his mouth, stopped in midair.

Hearing this, Baldhead, who was eating with his mouth full of blood not far away, was visibly stunned. He could not understand why Suren had suddenly said something so baffling.

But then, a response came from the void. "Huh? How did you know my name?"

It was still that deep, eerie old woman's voice from before.

He had guessed right!

The moment Suren heard that, he immediately realized there was nothing wrong with his deduction.

That fellow Marcus had said earlier that this "Phantom Species" had discovered them but had not killed them outright. Instead, it had played hide-and-seek with them.

As long as they followed the rules of the game, they could temporarily survive; if they broke the rules, they would be killed immediately.

Just like the current situation, this Anomaly could clearly kill them with ease, yet it had chosen to "play."

That also proved that this Phantom Species was not very old—or rather, that its mental age was not very old.

And at the dining table, aside from the corpses, there were only three puppets: a gentleman in a suit, a noblewoman, and a young lady. The gentleman sat at the head of the table, so they were clearly a family of three.

When Suren had examined the table earlier, he had felt that those three looked familiar.

Thinking more carefully, he recalled seeing a family portrait on the study wall.

Those three people had been in the photograph.

But there had actually been a fourth person in that photo.

A little girl holding a teddy bear!

The rest was easy to guess. The butler had called it "Master," and it liked bloody pranks, so this Phantom Species could only be that little girl.

And beneath that photograph was written a name: "Pestoya Isaac"!

Suren did not answer her question. Instead, he said directly, "May I talk with you for a while?"

Although he did not know exactly what a Phantom Species Anomaly was, it was probably similar to the ghosts he knew of.

And since he knew that her mental age was young, there was much more room for conversation—or persuasion.

So first, he had to arouse her interest.

He continued, "I can tell lots of interesting stories. I can dance, sing, perform shadow plays, and put on puppet shows... I think Miss Pestoya would like them."

After he spoke, the room fell silent for a long while.

Suren thought he might still be short of the final push, but then the surroundings suddenly changed. The Banquet Hall became a pink, girlish bedroom.

At the worktable by the window sat a little girl in a princess dress, tinkering with puppet parts.

She seemed to be intently assembling a puppet covered in runes. Hearing him, she did not turn around and simply asked, "You still haven't told me how you knew my name."

Her voice was gentle and youthful, soft and sweet.

The first step had worked!

He had successfully piqued her interest.

As Suren quickly surveyed everything in the room, he said, "When I was in the study, I saw your name on the photograph..."

He kept his voice as calm as possible, afraid of provoking her.

Because he knew that the harmless-looking little girl before him possessed the twisted mindset of someone who took pleasure in torturing humans to death.

The little girl asked again, "How did you discover me in the study earlier?"

She was clearly referring to the nutcracker.

Suren thought that was a good sign. At least she had taken the initiative to speak with him. He replied, "Because I noticed the puppet's eyes moving."

"Oh, so that was it."

Upon hearing this, the little girl slowly put down the Rune Puppet in her hands.

It was as though time froze for an instant. Then she slowly turned around.

Suren's pupils narrowed slightly. He vaguely sensed that the plot was about to take some major turn. Just in case, he silently supplied himself with the special BGM for watching horror movies—Today Is a Good Day.

Sure enough!

The next instant, the girl turned her face toward Suren and suddenly reverted to that deep, terrifying voice. In a sinister tone, she asked, "And now? Do you still want to chat with me?"

Her face was charred black. Her features had been scorched and shriveled together by intense heat, leaving only three holes where her mouth and nose had been.

Any normal person would have been startled by the sudden sight of that face.

But to the little girl's surprise, Suren's expression did not change in the slightest. There was no terror, no disgust, no fear. He even stared at her face seriously, with a gentle smile on his own.

If you had watched a thousand horror movies, you would probably be hard to scare.

In horror movies, there were at least eighty variations of the "turn-around kill" trope out of a hundred. Acid burns, fire burns, mutilation, pus-filled sores—every kind of terrifying, disgusting image existed.

So Suren did not feel much turmoil upon seeing that burned face.

He knew that if he had shown even the slightest sign of being startled or afraid just now, it might have triggered some instant-death effect, and this conversation would definitely have gone no further.

Yet he had smoothly passed the first test.

Suren went straight to the point. "Of course, Miss Pestoya. I can feel your loneliness."

Imitating the tone of the psychologist who had treated him back then, he began the conversation.

The little girl froze, apparently unsure how to react when the other person had not been frightened by her terrifying appearance.

Suren gave her no chance to make trouble and immediately began telling his own story.

"When I was in juvenile detention, I was often put in solitary confinement too. Oh, juvenile detention is a place where disobedient children are locked up. So I can understand the loneliness of being shut alone in a small room."

"I was born into a very warm family, but when I was very young, my parents left."

"..."

If you had read eight hundred books, you would not find much in this world new.

The Italian Carlo Gozzi said there were only thirty-six plots in the world: supplication, rescue, revenge, vengeance among kin, pursuit, disaster, misfortune, mystery, and attainment.

The moment Suren saw Pestoya's face, he had immediately inferred many possible plotlines.

Burn injuries?

Either it had been an accident, or she had been harmed by someone.

And the family in the dining room had been turned into puppets and seated there in perfect order. Either it was longing, or resentment.

From the limited clues, this seemed to have been a harmonious family.

Pestoya should have been born into a family with loving parents, then lost her life in an accidental fire at around the age of ten.

Her life had been frozen in that year as well.

Suren was not merely bluffing. He truly could understand that kind of loneliness.

Because he was telling his own story.

Perhaps only mental patients could understand mental patients?

After so many years of psychological counseling in juvenile detention and reading so many psychology books, methods for communicating with troubled children came naturally to him.

Although this Anomaly was powerful, and its supernatural abilities could easily kill a hundred Surens—

Its mental age was still that of a little girl inexperienced in the world.

Where there was intelligence, there were emotional needs.

That was what the psychiatric expert who had treated him had once said.

His desire to survive overwhelmed the guilt he felt over fooling a little girl, and the two of them gradually began chatting.

"My name is Suren. It's nice to meet you, Miss Pestoya."

"You really aren't afraid of me?"

"No. I can tell that Pestoya is a kind girl."

"No, I've killed many people."

"I've killed many people too. That year, a group of thugs violated and murdered my neighbor's older sister. Then I took a knife, chased them through three streets, and stabbed them to death one by one... The person who kills is not necessarily evil, and those who are killed may have deserved it."

"..."

Suren saw a trace of curiosity in that burned face, as though she had found a sense of identification in his words.

After a pause, he did not forget to add some psychological suggestion. "Later, in juvenile detention, the doctor told me that bad people should be punished, but good people must not be harmed."

"Oh."

Pestoya murmured as though she half understood.

After pondering for a moment, she asked softly, "What do you think makes someone a good person?"

Suren said, "For an individual, the difference between a good person and a bad person lies only in whether they conform to one's own values. At least up until today, I think those people deserved to die."

Pestoya was very clever. She clearly grasped the deeper meaning in Suren's words and revealed a sly smile. "Then are you a good person?"

Suren answered without blushing, "Of course."

"Hehehe..."

Silver-bell-like laughter echoed through the room.

The atmosphere suddenly became much less tense.

Girls probably all loved beauty. The little girl returned to the appearance from the photograph—blonde hair, blue eyes, obedient and adorable.

As Suren told his stories, their lonely experiences as mental patients made it easy for them to find "resonance."

Before long, one human and one Anomaly sat side by side like good friends.

Suren told her all sorts of strange and bizarre stories from Earth.

Pestoya also spoke about things that had happened in the manor before.

"My father and mother were both very skilled Alchemists. They were busy every day... Only these puppets stayed with me all the time, but sadly, they couldn't talk..."

"..."

Suren did not ask about the fire. He could guess with his toes that it would inevitably trigger Pestoya's painful memories.

The two simply talked about happy, interesting little things.

And the plot continued unfolding in the direction he had expected.

Suren's goal was to survive, and clearly, he probably would not be killed now.

But it seemed that something else had emerged as well.

Resonance had always been mutual.

Although there was no favorability panel like in games, Suren felt that he got along very well with this little girl.

After they had talked for a long time, Pestoya seemed very satisfied, and an adorable smile appeared on her face.

"Thank you. No one has talked to me in many years."

Then the little girl seemed to think of something. "But you can't stay by my side for too long... Otherwise, you'll become corrupted."

"Corrupted?"

Suren had thought staying a little longer would be fine, but hearing Pestoya's words, he realized there might be other dangers in this space.

At that moment, Pestoya seemed to remember something else.

She walked to her worktable, picked up the completed Rune Puppet, placed it inside an exquisite box, and said, "This is a farewell gift for you, Mr. Suren. Thank you for keeping me company and talking with me for so long."

Hearing this, Suren knew that he had successfully survived.

Suren did not stand on ceremony and accepted the wooden case containing the Rune Puppet.

It was a simple puppet with yellow skin. It felt rather heavy in his hand, as though it contained many metal components. Most peculiar of all were the faint blue runes flickering across its surface.

He did not ask further questions. Instead, he smiled and said, "Thank you for the gift as well, Miss Pestoya."

"Mr. Suren, we probably won't see each other again. Even if you come next time, I may have forgotten you..."

As they were about to part, sorrow appeared on Pestoya's face.

Then she removed a Butterfly Brooch from her clothes and personally pinned it to Suren's chest. "This is my favorite brooch. It was a birthday gift from my mother when I was six. It's also a little gift for you. I hope that after you leave, you can help me with something."

Suren readily agreed. "Sure."

"If you ever see my father and mother in the future, help me ask them..."

Pestoya stopped suddenly and did not continue.

Suren asked in confusion, "Ask them what?"

Pestoya's tone abruptly became agonized, and the terrifying old woman's voice alternated with her young girl's voice. "Ask them why... why they burned me to death."

The moment those words left her mouth, an inexplicable chill suddenly swept through the entire room.

What?

Suren had never expected her to suddenly say something like that.

He immediately realized that the truth was not so simple.

So Pestoya had been burned to death by her parents?

How was that possible? In a harmonious, loving family, her parents had actually burned their most cherished daughter to death?

Where had the problem begun?

Was there something wrong with Pestoya, or was there something wrong with her parents?

But there was no time to think. At that moment, it was as if something had touched the demon buried deep within Pestoya's heart. Dark mist rose from her body in waves, and she looked on the verge of losing control.

Seeing this, Suren decisively reached out and gently patted her head.

Perhaps because her favorability was high enough, Pestoya suddenly calmed down under his soothing touch. She slowly raised her head, and the crimson glow filling her eyes gradually faded into tranquility.

Suren nodded solemnly. "All right! I promise you."

So she had once loved this world bravely, only for the world to repay her with endless pain.

"Goodbye, then."

Pestoya flashed him a toothy smile, her eyes as clear as the starry sky, still as innocent and adorable as ever.

"I'm also very happy to have met you, Mr. Suren."