#781

Epilogue - Boy (7)

Thunk─!!

The warlock swung his fist, landing another blow on Puppet's face as he stared at the ceiling.

Valeri didn’t stop his disciple, allowing Puppet to slump his head lower, more shocked than before.

Intense pain spread from one side of his face, and red blood trickled from his mouth, dripping onto the floor.

“Ha-ha······.”

Puppet laughed as he looked at his own blood.

That blood was proof he had become human.

The pain he felt now was also proof of his humanity.

Then, could this inexplicable feeling he was experiencing also be proof of his humanity?

“······Don’t be ridiculous.”

That was how Puppet answered the question in his mind.

The warlock, mistaking those words as directed at him, furrowed his brow and raised his fist again, but Puppet stopped him.

“No, those words weren’t for you. Don’t hit me. It hurts.”

Suddenly, his words became shorter.

Interpreting it as provocation, the warlock was about to swing again when Valeri, observing from the sidelines, intervened once more.

“You’ve suddenly grown bold.”

“Bold? I’m terrified right now.”

Puppet turned his swollen face to look at his hands tied to the bed.

Contrary to his calm voice, his hands were trembling.

It was his body’s instinct, a boy's flesh sending signals to survive.

The human body was so fragile, betraying its will.

“Ha······. Living this long teaches you strange things.”

“You must be older than you look······. Or are you acting special to save your skin?”

“Maybe, or maybe not. But, is it a problem? I’m just a fish on the chopping block. You can end me whenever you want, can’t you?”

Suppressing his pounding heart and trembling limbs, Puppet retorted to Valeri’s veiled threat.

He must have done well enough, as Valeri’s eyebrow twitched.

Did it remind him of someone? Or was it simply distaste?

Puppet, who still lacked the warlock’s eyes, couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not now.

“If you want to live, you’d better prove you’re special quickly. I’m starting to think chopping you up for meat value might be more worthwhile.”

It seemed Valeri simply didn’t like Puppet.

Well, he understood.

Though black magic was usually practiced by society’s lower rungs, warlocks themselves became as authoritarian and greedy as any wizard once they achieved the title.

Seeing a mere material like Puppet act so brazenly naturally rubbed him the wrong way.

But conversely, the fact they hadn’t killed Puppet yet and were giving him a chance meant they had significant expectations of him.

Those expectations, specifically.

“Do you want Puppet’s research? Magical engineering?”

Valeri’s eyes gleamed momentarily.

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you’re someone who, like Puppet, desires to live forever.”

Without hesitation, Puppet struck Valeri’s core.

Valeri’s eyes widened, tacitly confirming it as the truth.

With widened eyes, he silently asked.

How did you know?

It wasn’t a difficult question. It was the obvious desire of those who had gained a certain level of power, wealth, and authority.

Especially around the “Immortal Puppet,” such people always swarmed.

“So that’s why you replaced your body with machinery?”

Puppet asked Valeri, who had substituted his finite human body with machinery. He remained silent.

“Would you replace even your bones and organs if you could?”

Valeri stayed silent again.

That silence indicated how thoroughly Puppet had seen through his thoughts.

Puppet looked at Valeri, not with the warlock’s eyes but with ordinary ones.

An unpleasantly stiff expression, eyes that refused to turn away, and beads of sweat faintly forming on his forehead.

From his appearance, intense greed, desire, and doubt were apparent.

“You······. Are you a test subject of Puppet’s?”

“Does it matter?”

“It absolutely does. How you’re treated depends on it. If you’re a test subject, I’ll treat you as one. If you’re a warlock, I’ll treat you as such.”

A lie.

If he were a test subject, they’d keep his limbs intact, but as a warlock, they’d undoubtedly break something.

A test subject had inherent research value, while a warlock was a rival. To eliminate potential threats, they’d have to be crushed. 

It was likely they untied Puppet to see if he could wield black magic.  

"I'm not a warlock," Puppet said, looking at Valeri.  

Since he could no longer use black magic, he couldn’t call himself a warlock.  

Valeri stared at Puppet with his right eye embedded with a crystal ball, and the other warlocks nearby also scrutinized Puppet.  

They were trying to discern whether his words were truth or lies.  

Meanwhile, Puppet glanced around the workshop, taking in the surroundings.  

Within the massive space, countless corpses still hung, and various magical engineering devices, presumably plundered, were scattered.  

An automatic turret capable of firing bullets by sensing magic power.  

Totem-like towers capable of casting electric magic within a 100-meter radius.  

Magical engineering gauntlets designed to enhance strength.  

A spatial sniper rifle capable of shooting beyond dimensions.  

A device for teleportation logistics.  

Additionally, numerous corpses outfitted with combat prosthetic arms and legs could be seen.  

It seemed they were crafted for research or sale.  

Families unable to acquire high-quality corpses like wizards, warlocks, or mana users often stitched together multiple bodies to create golem zombies or modified them with magical engineering gear for expensive sales.  

While magical engineering equipment was costly and sometimes more valuable than the corpse itself, the story changed if they managed to seize a large amount.  

Now that the Immortal Puppet, the Human-meat Chef, the Eternal Child Pan, and the Kidnapper Piper were gone—and the Sleeping Princess had wiped out other small warlock families—whichever family gained prominence could monopolize the now-vacant warlock market.  

It was fascinating.  

Not long ago, the world was on the verge of collapse, yet here they were.  

It seemed there was no fairy-tale ending of "And everyone lived happily ever after~."  

What was even more fascinating was that Puppet now stood at the center of it all.  

For what purpose?  

Puppet stared blankly at the blinking magical engineering devices, pondering.  

-... .- -.- .- . -... -.. ...- ..- ...- .-.. .-.. . -.- -  

Lights blinked rhythmically.  

At that moment, the voices of Valeri’s family reached him.  

“It’s ambiguous, but it doesn’t seem like a lie.”  

“And you?”  

“Same here. There were several moments where he could’ve used black magic, but he didn’t.”  

“More importantly, seeing him react to the old man’s death like that, he hardly seems like a warlock—”  

“—Rasmussen.”  

Puppet suddenly interjected.  

Everyone turned to look at Puppet.  

“Leopold Rasmussen. That was the old man’s name.”  

The warlocks nearby let out quiet chuckles at Puppet’s unexpected remark.  

“Indeed, it doesn’t seem like he’s a warlock. Given the circumstances······.”  

“To remember and mention the name of such a material, he definitely doesn’t seem like a warlock.”  

“I see.”  

Valeri nodded in agreement with his disciples.  

Even to him, Puppet’s current demeanor was far from that of a warlock.  

Even Puppet himself thought so.  

How ironic.  

“Well, whether you’re a warlock or not isn’t the issue. What’s important—”  

“—is how much I know about Puppet’s research, isn’t it?”  

Puppet interrupted Valeri’s words.  

Despite the rudeness, Valeri didn’t get angry; instead, he slowly nodded.  

“Correct. That’s also why I tolerate your insolent attitude······. So, how much do you know?”  

“Everything.”  

Puppet confessed without a hint of hesitation.  

Even if his body had changed, his mind and memories remained intact.  

Puppet remembered all the research he had conducted in the past.  

The overwhelming weight of that knowledge caused the already cold air to grow even chillier, leaving only the sound of nervous swallowing.  

If Puppet’s words were true, a new god among men could be born.  

It was hard to believe, yet it was a truth Valeri wanted to believe.  

“If that’s a lie—”  

“—Why would I lie? It’s not like I plan to tell you anything anyway.”  

“What······?”  

Valeri’s expression, which had been filled with anticipation and excitement, twisted into one of frustration.  

It was only natural—like the most precious treasure vanishing like a mirage.  

Psssh-! Psssh-! Psssh-!  

Valeri’s body hissed as the pipes attached to him convulsed, releasing magical steam in irritation.  

Finally, unable to hold back, Valeri shot to his feet.  

Valeri didn’t dare hit Puppet.  

If Puppet were seriously injured, the treasure they had barely obtained could be damaged.  

It was like not kicking an expensive car when it suddenly breaks down.  

The difference here was that they were warlocks—they knew how to make the car run again.  

Valeri leaned his face close to Puppet’s.  

“You fool! If you’d cooperated, I might have treated you decently! Did you think I’d tolerate such insolence?! What can you even do?!”  

Exactly. Puppet could do nothing. That was why he had done what he did.  

“Enough! Take him away. We’ll get the information out of him somehow! For now, wrap things up here.”  

With that command, Valeri stepped back from Puppet, and his disciples moved to take him away.  

It was then that Puppet spoke.  

“There’s nothing I can do. I know that well.”  

Now that Puppet’s value had risen, the warlocks hesitated to silence him.  

He might still have valuable information.  

Using the brief freedom this hesitation afforded him, Puppet continued.  

“All I can do now, without black magic, is pray.”  

“Pray?”  

Valeri and the other warlocks burst into mocking laughter.  

They had seen countless people call upon gods in this workshop, only to be abandoned.  

But Puppet didn’t care.  

Even if the gods turned away, and he faced torment, he was at peace, knowing this was his fate.  

What mattered was that he, as a human, could still pray.  

“Lilith…!” Puppet prayed.  

“Help me.”  

At that moment, the warlocks’ mocking expressions began to distort.  

Giiiiiiing────!!  

The magical engineering devices in the workshop activated on their own, seemingly answering Puppet’s prayer.  

Ziiiiing────!!  

Psssh-! Psssh-! Psssh-!  

Rrrrrrrrrumble────.  

As the machinery roared to life, the communication device in the corner of the workshop activated, and a woman’s voice emerged.  

[Gladly.]  

The moment the voice echoed, magical energy released from the devices condensed into a unique ring-shaped magic circle in Puppet’s bound hands.  

Following Puppet’s gestures, the magical rings moved.  

Clack.  

The surrounding magical engineering devices activated.  

For example, an automatic turret, which sensed and attacked targets using magic power.  

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat─────!!  

Mounted on a flexible base like a giraffe’s neck, the turret sprang to life, unleashing a barrage of bullets on the warlocks.  

The flashing bullets swept through the area, forcing some warlocks to dive to the ground and others to collapse.  

The bullets also targeted Puppet.  

“Damn it—ugh!”  

The bullets pierced through the warlock aiming at Puppet and severed the restraints binding him to the bed.  

Though only his hands were freed, it was enough.  

“Stop him!”  

One of the warlocks stood and cast a shield toward the turret’s direction.  

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat─────!!  

The shield, seemingly cast by a skilled wizard, held up against the bullets. Encouraged, other warlocks also deployed shields and approached Puppet.  

Not missing this opportunity, Puppet manipulated the ring-shaped magic circle in his hands.  

Giiiiiiiii────!!  

He activated the totem-like turret supporting electric magic.  

Holes opened in the cylindrical turret as currents of electricity surged within it.  

Zzzzzzzap──!!  

A massive discharge of electricity surged upward toward the ceiling, traveling along it to the warlocks who had deployed shields in one direction.  

Flash────!!  

A blue flash burst above their heads, and when it subsided, only charred remains were left where the warlocks had stood.  

The blackened corpses crumbled to the ground.  

Those who had been watching trembled as they fell to their knees, their faces pale with terror.  

Even without the warlock’s enhanced vision, Puppet could sense their emotions.  

Disbelief. Fear. Confusion. Terror.  

The sudden, incomprehensible events had paralyzed their minds.  

Puppet didn’t miss the opportunity and manipulated the magic ring Lilith had provided.  

Whiiish───Clack!  

He pulled the strength-enhancing gauntlet from a nearby workbench and wore it, gripping the restraints that bound his body.  

Rip───!  

The restraints tore apart with ease.  

[Body Control]  

Just as Puppet freed himself, Valeri’s voice echoed powerfully.  

At his incantation, the warlocks observing the situation obediently like puppets sprang to their feet and charged at Puppet.  

This was the effect of ‘Body Control’, a manipulation-type black magic that allowed the caster to control others’ bodies like marionettes.  

Unlike controlling corpses, manipulating living humans was far more challenging, requiring significant skill.  

Valeri’s choice to control the living rather than corpses scattered nearby implied ulterior motives.  

Despite this, Puppet fired the turret to take them down, prompting Valeri to react.  

[Corpse Amp]  

As expected, Valeri activated ‘Corpse Amp’, a black magic that amplified the caster’s magic using the freshly dead bodies of warlocks.  

Utilizing the fresh corpses of his disciples, Valeri cast:  

[Revive]  

[Objective Hate]  

The dark energy spread from Valeri, entering the corpses of his disciples, exploding outward, and infecting surrounding bodies.  

The scene resembled a black tidal wave sweeping through the workshop.  

“Grrrrrr······!”  

“Rrrrrrr······!”  

“Aaaaah······!!”  

Nearly a hundred corpses rose simultaneously.  

“Die!”  

At Valeri’s command, the resurrected corpses charged at Puppet with feral cries.  

The wave of undead overwhelmed Puppet. While he tried to hold them back with the turret and electric totem, it wasn’t enough.  

Boom────!!!  

But Puppet managed.  

Among the resurrected corpses was one equipped with a prosthetic arm and leg designed for combat. Puppet took control of its engineering components, using it to slice through approaching undead with its clawed hand and chainsaw.  

“You’re using black magic······?!”  

Valeri shouted in shock as he realized he had lost control over the corpse.  

However, Puppet wasn’t using black magic.  

What Puppet controlled wasn’t the corpse itself but the magical engineering devices attached to it.  

With tools like chainsaws, clawed hands, and iron fists, Puppet tore through the zombies relentlessly targeting him.  

No matter their numbers, the beasts were no real threat.  

Ziiiing──Boom!  

At least, not unless their specifications were high.  

Valeri obliterated a single zombie armed with magical engineering equipment, along with Puppet’s turret and electric totem, using a magical laser from his mechanical arm.  

Frustration twisted Valeri’s face red and blue, humiliated that his black magic was failing against Puppet.  

He aimed his mechanical arm at Puppet to fire another laser.  

Just as the magical energy gathered in the brass-colored arm, preparing to fire—  

Kaboom──!  

The mechanical arm exploded.  

Right before the laser was fired, Puppet had used the spatial sniper rifle to shoot and destroy the arm.  

The collision of the rifle’s precision and the concentrated energy caused the arm to burst, leaving Valeri gravely injured.  

“Aah··· Aaaaargh······!”  

Writhing in pain, Valeri screamed, crawling on the floor while glaring at Puppet with hatred.  

“You… What are you······?!”  

Puppet didn’t answer. He merely looked down at Valeri, who now squirmed beneath him.  

As the tide of power shifted, Valeri, consumed by rage, activated another black magic spell.  

[Flesh Clay]  

This manipulation-type black magic allowed the caster to mold corpses like clay.  

Its versatility was immense, creating weapons to pierce enemies, barriers to block attacks, or golem zombies to crush foes.  

The power of the spell varied depending on the caster’s skill and the number of corpses.  

“Rooooaaaaaar───!!!”  

Dozens of corpses, under Valeri’s command, fused into a massive golem zombie.  

The golem, composed of intertwined bodies, was so enormous that its sheer size caused the ceiling to collapse as it stood.  

Through the collapsing roof, the sky—still illuminated by daylight—came into view.  

The sky seemed immeasurably high.  

‘Perfect,’ Puppet thought.  

“I’ll crush you to pieces!” Valeri shouted from within the golem zombie.  

His voice was filled with rage and unshaken confidence.  

Puppet couldn’t agree more.  

Inside the golem, Valeri was now safe from the spatial sniper rifle and resistant to attacks from other armed zombies.  

But what Puppet agreed with most was the idea of being crushed.  

“Yes, crushing—it’s perfect.”  

Puppet manipulated the ring-shaped magic circle in his hand, activating a teleportation supply device.  

This magical engineering tool allowed the transfer of objects to specific locations.  

Under Puppet’s control, the device gathered scattered materials—broken magical equipment, workbenches, tools, and chunks of the collapsed ceiling—and teleported them all directly above the golem zombie.  

Though transferring objects into midair was typically difficult, Puppet’s spatial manipulation abilities made it possible.  

The enormous mass of gathered debris formed into a single massive chunk.  

Shhhhhhhhhh······.  

And it fell.  

The debris slammed down onto the golem zombie, crushing everything beneath it, including Valeri himself.  

BOOOOOOOM──!!!  

As the dust settled, the golem zombie’s form became visible.  

Though not completely destroyed, the golem was severely damaged and rendered immobile.  

Inside, Valeri crawled out through the crushed remains, pushing aside mangled flesh.  

“Ugh! Ugh—!!”  

The warlock, who had hoped to rise as a new finger of the underworld, was now in shambles, retching yellow bile while trembling violently.  

The physical pain was evident, but the psychological blow was far greater.  

He seemed bewildered, questioning how he had ended up like this.  

“Relying solely on the power of black magic leads to this,” came a voice from above.  

A shadow fell over Valeri as someone offered unsolicited advice.  

Slowly lifting his head, Valeri saw Puppet standing there, holding a broken iron rod.  

“············.”  

“The true power of black magic lies in exploiting your opponent’s blind spots. How many times have I told you that?”  

“No… it can’t be… Puppet?!” Valeri shouted, his voice laced with shock and disbelief.  

But Puppet shook his head.  

“No, my name isn’t Puppet. I’ve remembered what my name was. My name is—”  

Thunk!  

The iron rod pierced Valeri’s throat.  

“Pinocchio. That’s the name my grandfather gave me.”  

Valeri, with his throat impaled, choked on blood and collapsed, his body lifeless.  

Pinocchio sat beside Valeri’s corpse, letting out a long, weary sigh.  

There was no joy of survival, no thrill of victory.  

Only confusion and exhaustion emanated from him.  

From a nearby communication device that had fallen during the battle, Lilith’s voice echoed.  

“Do you regret it?”  

Lilith’s question was directed at Pinocchio, who had done unspeakable things in his pursuit of humanity.  

“Do you regret the deeds you committed to become human?”  

“No. Not at all.”  

Pinocchio shook his head in firm denial.  

Regret, now?  

After all this?  

Seeing an old man and some children die wasn’t enough to stir regret within him.  

It was laughable melodrama, nothing more.  

He had sacrificed so much to become human—how could he regret it now?  

Regret would be hypocrisy, pure and simple.  

To finally achieve humanity, to get what he had longed for, and then suddenly seek absolution for his conscience?  

It was disgusting. It was self-deception.  

And yet...  

And yet, strangely enough...  

Pinocchio’s hand, the hand that didn’t feel regret, trembled ever so slightly.  

Clenching his trembling hand tightly, Pinocchio spoke again.  

“Even if I could go back, I’d do it all over again to become human.”  

“······.”  

“Even this regret is a luxury I can’t afford.”  

“······.”  

“So, I won’t regret it. I’ll enjoy this blessing and live, even if it means going to hell. That’s my choice.”  

Pinocchio’s grip tightened, his hand turning pale from the pressure.  

Lilith, noticing his whitened hand, asked, “Then, how do you plan to live now?”  

“I don’t know······ how I’m supposed to live.”  

Pinocchio, who once sought to resurrect his grandfather, answered.  

At the time, he had been so certain that was what he wanted, but now he wasn’t sure.  

Did he still want it, or did he not?  

He needed advice.  

Advice on how he should live.  

On how to deal with these indescribable emotions.  

After sitting and pondering for a long time, Pinocchio stood up, gathered the magical engineering equipment that hadn’t been destroyed, and asked Lilith, “I have a question.”  

“Go ahead.”  

“Do you know where the Sleeping Princess is?”  

“Why do you ask?”  

“I need to ask her something.”  

Pinocchio remembered that only one person could draw the princess trapped in the sleeping forest back out into the world.  

“I need to ask what I should do. What exactly does he want from me?”  

After a moment of consideration, Lilith replied, “······She’s quite far away. It will be a difficult journey.”  

“Perfect,” Pinocchio said, gathering the magical engineering equipment he had salvaged and setting off in the direction Lilith indicated.  

Thus began the journey of the boy named Pinocchio.