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Any glimmer of hope or illusion that Lin Sanjiu might have held onto, that Puppeteer would come to their rescue, was shattered within the next few seconds.
The fact that she was still alive at all was proof enough that Puppeteer was a man of his word. When he had declared, “If you exceed the time limit, you might as well die there,” she and Bohemia couldn’t expect any help from him. In fact, when he finally made his move, he didn’t even bother to avoid Lin Sanjiu and Bohemia.
Before the words had even settled, a rushing flood surged from some unknown location, roaring and rushing toward them from the distant hills, wreaking havoc among the trees. The trees engulfed by the high water neither broke nor collapsed. In a flash, Lin Sanjiu faintly saw several trees wither and decay in the flood, as if they couldn’t bear the weight of time any longer, finally succumbing and falling to the ground.
Before she could even check if Bohemia’s tree had also been swept away by the flood, the raging waves engulfed her, and darkness swallowed everything, including the distant cries of Mrs. Manas.
After an indeterminate period, Lin Sanjiu was roused by the persistent cries of a young child.
As she opened her eyes, she found herself lying on swaying ground. Her mind felt foggy, and even the pain from the wound at the back of her head was dulled by a pervasive, enervating fatigue.
The sky and the surrounding forest were veiled in a layer of white mist. She blinked repeatedly, realizing that the mist seemed to shroud her vision and hearing, creating a dense, cobweb-like sensation that made it challenging to see or hear clearly.
A faint, ghostly creaking of leather emanated from nearby, barely registering in her senses. Just as she was about to follow the sound, she suddenly gasped for breath, succumbing to a fit of violent coughing. With sheer determination, Lin Sanjiu managed to prop herself up from the ground. When she glanced down at her hands, she was met with a shocking sight – her hands had aged significantly, adorned with wrinkles, veins, and age spots, the once-deep red lines on her wrists now sunken into loose, swollen skin.
Were these really her hands?
Lin Sanjiu was taken aback. At that moment, the ground quivered once more, nearly causing her to lose her balance. However, a strong hand reached under her armpit and steadied her.
When she turned her head, she met the gaze of a young boy she didn’t recognize.
The boy sported fluffy pink-dyed hair, with the sides cropped short to reveal his natural platinum-blonde locks. His nose ring, a small tattoo on his cheek, and a wide tank top that bared his fair, slender arms all blended seamlessly with his flamboyant aura. With a subtle curl of his thin lips, he perfectly embodied youthful fearlessness and disdain.
“You, you’re…” Lin Sanjiu’s voice resembled the crumbling of dry leaves.
“Oh my, aging really does a number on one’s looks, doesn’t it?” the boy with pink hair took a deep breath, completely unapologetic about his candidness. “Honestly, let me give you a piece of advice. It’s better to die young than to end up like this.”
Through her foggy eyes, Lin Sanjiu gazed at him and blinked slowly. Behind the boy with pink hair, a diverse group of people lay on the ground: several infants with red faces crying, a few lifeless bodies, and four or five individuals who had aged so drastically that their genders were indistinguishable. If there was anything familiar, it was the clothing they wore.
These clothes were the same as those worn by the distorted-faced individuals not long ago.
“I—they,” speaking required immense effort for Lin Sanjiu now, “What happened? Who are you?”
The boy with pink hair tilted his head slightly, “Are you suffering from senile dementia?”
His tone held a subtle familiarity, causing Lin Sanjiu to fix her gaze on him. A thought emerged, one she was hesitant to believe, “Bo-Bohemia?”
The boy released her hand and examined his own face. “I look good like this, don’t you think? Just as I deserve.”
While he did look good, that didn’t address her questions. Lin Sanjiu was about to ask further when a faint, low sound of leather friction captured her attention. She strained to turn around, hoping to inquire about Puppeteer’s actions. However, what she witnessed left her frozen in place.
The massive ant queen that had loomed above them had been completely overturned. Its head and mandibles pointed skyward, its long antennae writhing on the ground like serpents. Six thick, struggling legs stretched from its abdomen, trembling in mid-air, causing the earth to quake, but they were tightly ensnared by swirling black mist, rendering them immobile.
Standing near the uncomfortable ant head was a dark figure. Puppeteer had his back turned to her, and despite clearly hearing her voice, he made no effort to acknowledge her presence. In the haze, something seemed different about him, but Lin Sanjiu’s aging eyes couldn’t discern the details.
“Help me get over there,” she instructed the young boy version of Bohemia.
Bohemia, though sporting a different appearance, retained her character but was less fearless now. She responded casually, “I’m not going.” After a brief pause, she added, “The Lord didn’t instruct me to.”
Infuriated by the situation, Lin Sanjiu couldn’t move on her own in her current frail body. She had no option but to speak softly to Puppeteer, who was quite distant, “When did you capture it? What was that flood? What happened to me?”
Despite appearing as a flood, there was no trace of dampness left on the leaves, the ground, or their clothing once it receded.
A heavy silence hung in the air, with the only sounds being the rustling of branches and leaves disturbed by the Ant Queen. After a prolonged pause, Puppeteer sighed softly and almost gently said, “I used to believe that nothing was impossible in this world.” He still didn’t turn around, his gaze fixed on the Ant Queen’s head, his words clear in her ears. “But I was mistaken. I admit that it’s impossible to make use of trash like you.”
Even though she was now aged and frail, a sense of resistance welled up within Lin Sanjiu’s heart.
“E-even if you hadn’t come, we… we could have defeated the Ant Queen. We would have just needed to work harder…” She had faced off against posthumans before and had confidence in her combat abilities. Hadn’t Mrs. Manas mentioned it as well? She could think quickly during a fight.
Puppeteer let out a cold, disdainful chuckle, and his biting tone was like an icy blade as he said, “You’re too kind to yourself. Was it even remotely challenging? Give you a pen and ask you to write down your own name, and you’d scratch your head for two days.”
Lin Sanjiu suppressed her retorts—partly because she knew better, and partly because she lacked the strength.
“What… what happened to me? And who are these people…”
Finally, upon hearing her words, Puppeteer slowly turned around. It appeared he had changed clothes, as the feathers on his shoulders and wrists were absent. Through her blurred vision, she could vaguely make out several thin black belts encircling his pale, slender waist. When he faced her, some cotton fabric and traces of blood clung to his abdomen.
Upon closer examination, she understood what was different about Puppeteer.
His hair.
Lin Sanjiu swallowed hard, feeling as if something were lodged in her throat, making it impossible to swallow. Puppeteer’s once jet-black hair, which had cascaded down to his collarbone, had been cut short and combed back. The glossy black strands clung to his head, accentuating his pale, slender neck and revealing his gaunt, cold facial features. On the half of his face that remained motionless, there was a frozen trace of eternal youth.
It was the same hairstyle as Gong Daoyi’s.
When he left Minstrel 9, he appropriated the clothes of the Vindice. Now, as he prepared to confront Gong Daoyi, he had trimmed and tidied his hair. It seemed as though Puppeteer was savoring the sweet taste of revenge to the fullest, wanting to preserve certain keepsakes to perpetuate his deep-seated hatred.
Impatience coursed through him. He desired mementos even before he personally killed Gong Daoyi.
“I just acquired [Torrent of Time], and you’ve squandered it.”
Perhaps it was Lin Sanjiu’s unwavering gaze that heightened the disgust in his voice, as if he found her more repugnant than the Ant Queen herself. “Turn your face away from me; don’t look at me. You’re emitting radiation in your current state.”
[Torrent of Time].
Lin Sanjiu’s thoughts instantly refocused. Despite her continuous aging, her mind remained sharp. “I understand… It’s disrupting everyone’s time… That’s why some people are aging while others are regressing to infancy…”
She turned her attention to the boy with pink hair beside her. He possessed well-defined muscles and a lithe physique. While not overtly muscular, his skin exuded an inexhaustible vitality, radiating a healthy glow. He was indeed a handsome young man. The notion that this vibrant life would soon fade away couldn’t help but evoke a sense of melancholy in Lin Sanjiu. “This boy… was your previous life, correct?”
“Probably,” Bohemia flexed and contracted his fingers, unable to resist muttering, “Who split my life into five stages? This power is incredible. I can’t quite grasp it… Even my abilities have changed.”
Even evolved abilities underwent alterations with each new life?
This was an ability so unimaginable that Lin Sanjiu couldn’t have conceived it. She coughed for a while and struggled to catch her breath as she inquired from a distance, “How did you capture the Ant Queen?”
Puppeteer couldn’t have solely relied on physical strength to subdue a massive ant queen, especially considering his injuries. He must have employed some kind of item for assistance. He had consecutively utilized Special Items, even revealing something as precious-sounding as the [Torrent of Time]. It was evident that he was in a hurry to reach some other destination—where exactly?
“Let me think.” Puppeteer suddenly clapped his hands, as if remembering something, and then smiled with an almost amiable air. “Do I have an obligation to answer every question from a maggot like you?”
Lin Sanjiu’s spirit waned.
“Oh, no, I don’t,” he said, his words taking on a swift and sinister tone. As he menacingly cocked his head, Lin Sanjiu understood why people from the Twelve Worlds referred to him as Mad Dog. “Before the torrent’s effect dissipates, I want you to extract the answers I seek from them.”
Bohemia hastily chimed in, “Thank you, Lord, for granting me a second chance.”
What answers did he seek?
Elderly Lin Sanjiu paused for a moment before recalling that he wanted to know why posthumans ceased teleporting after conversion. She glanced at the surviving individuals nearby—the infants were naturally of no use, so they could only attempt to revive the few individuals who teetered on the brink of death due to old age.
“And what about you?” she asked, not forgetting to use a breathy voice. “What do you plan to do with the Ant Queen?”
Puppeteer turned away, ignoring her.
Persistence defined Lin Sanjiu. Even in her aged and voiceless state, she could repeat the same question ten times in a row. Puppeteer was finally irritated by her and suddenly turned around, his voice low as he snapped, “Shut up!”
After a pause, he raised his hand and delicately traced history finger, sketching a circle on the swollen belly of the Ant Queen, resembling a small mountain. “What Magus desires is something that goes from big to small. There must be numerous eggs within its belly.”