"Hello, everybody. Let me introduce myself, I am Puppeteer."[1]
This was the first sentence that the man in a strange outfit said as he walked up to his stage.
The "stage" he was standing on was a shipping container which had been flipped to its side by the Beret Men. Just moments before, this man who called himself "Puppeteer" was guided to the stage by the multitudes of mannequins and dolls who seemed to worship him. Even without using a microphone, his words sounded clearly in each of the 219 Posthumans’ ears.
The posthumans, who were walking out from two shipping containers, were forced by the mannequins to line up in orderly rows, then, the mannequins encircled them. Originally, there should have been more than 219 Posthumans standing under the stage, listening.
However, during the process, more than ten people tried to resist and escape. These failed escapees were caught, and their legs were cleanly amputated; the mannequins carried the remaining upper bodies of those people on their shoulders and walked past the stage, possibly bringing them up to be examined by Puppeteer. The man touched each of those Posthumans’ forehead once and shook his head lightly each time. After that, the mannequin promptly threw the people off their shoulders and into the dried up ocean below them, not caring if those people lived or died.
Lin Sanjiu noticed a human leg still wrapped in a pair of jeans on the ground near to her when she heard Puppeteer speak again.
"If you do not wish to get hurt, please give me your kind cooperation. I only have this simple request, and there is no need for anyone to get hurt," Puppeteer smiled, sounding courteous.
The crowd below started getting restless, but just like the last winter gust in spring, the commotion immediately died down once the surrounding weirdos stared at them.
Puppeteer looked around, and even though he was still smiling, his gaze was cold and unfeeling. It was impossible to tell how old he was. His occasional movements seemed to lean toward him being a young man, yet, when he crossed his arms and stood still, he seemed older. It was as if he might fit whatever age he was labeled with.
To add to that enigma, it was difficult to tell what his personality was from the clothes he wore. His entire attire was too strange: his top consisted of an amalgamation of multiple black strips with slits in between which revealed his pale, delicate skin; it was best described as a leather jacket thrown into a blender. He wore a large, scarlet red, cockscomb-like accessory on his back which swayed as he walked and a pair of black, thigh-high boots.
"I have a question," he had a mellow voice, but it caught everyone’s attention immediately.
"Is there a Consular Officer among the 219 of you?"
The crowd remained silent. Those who looked confused, trying to get some answer from the others, were probably new Posthumans, and Hyperthermal Hell was the first New World they experienced; therefore, they knew nothing about the matter regarding consular officers. Those who looked down and kept quiet, or turned pale with shock, were probably from another world.
Even after waiting for a few minutes, no one spoke.
"Oh. A group of 219 is still too small…" Puppeteer sighed, feeling a little unsatisfied by the response. He could only do the next best thing, "Fine. Which of you have information about the Consular Officer here?"
Lin Sanjiu’s heart tightened when she remembered Fang Dan. She exchanged a glance with Hu Changzai. Despite knowing that it wasn’t quite possible for Puppeteer to spot her among over 200 people, she couldn’t help lowering her head as if she was trying to hide what she knew. When she looked down, she suddenly noticed the trembling legs of the short man standing in front of her.
She was puzzled. The current situation didn’t seem that scary...
Somehow, the short man couldn’t stand properly, it felt as if he would fall any second. Unexpectedly, he mustered his courage and spoke with a faltering voice, "Ma… Master Puppeteer..."
As there was total silence, Puppeteer, who was standing on the stage, heard his voice even though it wasn’t loud.
[Master Puppeteer? Isn’t that too much of a kiss-*ss?]
An unfathomable smile appeared on Puppeteer’s face. "Speak."
"Yes, yes… I spent four to five months trying to find the Consular Officer in this region. However, I heard that he traveled to the North… so, you might not find him here," the short man replied fearfully.
Lin Sanjiu noticed the two words "this region". If she thought about it logically, considering the size of Earth, if there were only one Consular Officer in each world, the probability of meeting the Consular Officer would be way too small.
Puppeteer’s smile faded as he asked, "Oh, can anyone provide me additional information about the Consular Officer here?"
There was silence once again.
"Ah, alright. It isn’t that I don’t want to believe all of you, but I think I still need to check each of you to confirm that a Consular Officer isn’t hiding here," Puppeteer’s voice was still gentle and cordial as he walked and explained himself at the same time. A platoon of mannequins immediately followed behind him like a group of security guards.
He walked to the first person standing in the first row. The teenager instantly became defensive, asking, "What are you going to do?"
"You don’t have to be nervous," Puppeteer said gently as if he was consoling a child, but everyone could still hear his voice clearly, "I just want to know if you’re a Consular Officer. It won’t hurt."
As he said this, he had already touched the teenager’s forehead, and it happened in an instant.
The teenager looked as if he was just about to resist, but before he even took out his weapon, Puppeteer had already moved on. Just as promised, it didn’t hurt at all, so the teenager stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do momentarily. Other than appearing a little disappointed, Puppeteer ignored him and continued to the next person. "I am not a Consular Officer, or whatever! Can I leave?" the teenager shouted.
Puppeteer nodded. "Of course. But you’ll have to wait a little while."
With that, a mannequin stepped up and blocked the teenager’s path. The teenager remained in his spot with a doubtful expression.
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