Chapter 778: Epilogue – The Boy

The mind is influenced by the body.

The nations in the East denied this, claiming that sheer willpower could accomplish anything, but that was utter nonsense.

After conducting countless human experiments, Puppet could guarantee it.

No matter how hardworking or positive a person was, if they were forced to gain weight, they would become lazy and depressed.

Even the most violent personality could be tamed with a little pain.

This was because the human mind was highly malleable.

Like water.

The body was the vessel that held that water.

If the shape of the vessel changed, so too did the water. Sometimes, if there was a hole in the vessel, the water would leak.

Such was the fragility of the human mind.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump…!

However, Puppet never thought he would experience this firsthand.

His heart was racing even faster than before, and the first thought that came to his mind was ‘how.’

It might seem suspicious, but still, to be called a Dark Sorcerer…!

The second thought was ‘I made a mistake.’

Sometimes a lie’s effectiveness lay not in logic but in attitude, and in this case, attitude was key.

Even answering a little too slowly would be as good as an admission, and right now, Puppet’s silence was practically confirming that he was indeed a Dark Sorcerer.

‘Damn.’

Puppet clicked his tongue inwardly, wondering why he had responded so foolishly.

It was definitely because of the boy’s body.

When he had been in a wooden puppet, he could handle most situations calmly, but now, in the uncertain frame of a boy, even the mind of Puppet, with its centuries of experience, had become twisted.

‘What should I do? How can I explain this?’

As Puppet agonized over this…

Flutter.

An old man raised his hand firmly, signaling Puppet to calm down.

“I’m not interrogating you.”

“…”

“It’s not that I hold a grudge against you or anything like that. And it’s not unheard of for someone like you to be a Dark Sorcerer.”

Ah, true. Even a young boy could be accepted as a Dark Sorcerer. Not only in the Winter Kingdom but anywhere.

Puppet quickly adjusted to the situation.

“I don’t know how to use Dark Magic.”

“An apprentice or something like that, then? You must at least know a lot about it, considering you knew I was a good prisoner.”

Seeing that things had come to this, Puppet decided to entertain his curiosity.

“How did you realize that I noticed?”

“If you’ve been in this game long enough, you develop an eye for things. Plus, the way you looked at me was a little cocky.”

Puppet blinked. Apparently, his acting had been worse than he thought.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s important is that you’re a smarter kid than most. If someone like you is leading the others, there’s at least a sliver of hope.”

Puppet looked at the others, huddled together and nursing their own fragile hope.

The old man stared at Puppet.

“I wouldn’t count on me, though.”

“If one escapes, every last one of us will be implicated.”

Exactly. If even one person got away, everyone in the area would be considered guilty of aiding their escape.

That’s why such chains made things easier to control.

At this point, one natural question emerged in Puppet’s mind.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Me?”

The old man playing the ‘good prisoner’ asked back.

“Yes, wouldn’t you be safe as long as you followed orders?”

“…Hah. Maybe. But—”

“—It seems like you’ve been doing this for a long time.”

As the old man was responding, Puppet interrupted, poking at a sensitive area. There was a risk he’d be hit for it, but his curiosity was too strong.

The old man had clearly been playing the ‘good prisoner’ for a while, so why was he suddenly engaging in this charade that didn’t suit him?

The question must have stung because the rigid expression on the old man’s face twitched, and his eyes wavered slightly.

Had he gone too far? Well, it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be the first time someone hit him for satisfying his curiosity.

“…You develop a certain skill when you get old.”

“…What kind of skill?”

“Knowing when you’re about to die.”

“You think you’re about to die?”

“Yes.”

The old man admitted it without hesitation.

Puppet furrowed his brow as he examined the old man, but he wasn’t able to sense any emotions or life force, so there was no way to tell whether he was lying or not.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe it, either. Considering I kept going after my family died, doing whatever it took to survive… And now I figure I’ll at least try to do some good before I meet my maker. When I’m with God, I want at least one good deed to my name.”

“You think that’ll wash away your sins?”

Puppet scoffed at the old man, just like he used to mock his former test subjects.

Humans only turned to God when they were at death’s door.

“Who said anything about wiping away sins? I just said I want to do one good thing.”

“Is there really a difference?”

“There’s a world of difference between doing one thing and doing nothing.”

The old man argued firmly, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.

‘What a joke,’

Puppet laughed inwardly at the old man’s self-righteousness, and then the old man spoke again.

“In any case, you take the kids and escape. That’s an order, not a request.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll tell the guards that you were the reason I pulled this stunt.”

“What?”

“I’ll say you look just like my dead grandson, and my conscience was moved to try and help you escape.”

“What kind of bull—”

Clang!

The old man grabbed Puppet’s collar and lifted him slightly.

For an old man, his grip was surprisingly strong, making it hard to resist.

“Or maybe I’ll punch you in the face until your teeth rattle like castanets. So what’ll it be? A false accusation, castanets, or escape? Take your pick.”

The old man clenched his fist, forcing Puppet to choose.

Puppet couldn’t read the old man’s emotions since his Warlock’s Eye wasn’t working, but this time, he didn’t need it to tell that the old man was serious.

The tightly clenched fist made that clear.

In the end, Puppet answered.

“I’ll choose the last one.”

“Smart choice.”

***

The ‘good prisoner,’ who before his death wanted to play the role of a kind old man, roughly let go of Puppet, and soon, evening fell.

“Any trouble?!”

“None.”

“Good, eat!”

The indifferent guard kicked over a pot of porridge with his foot and left. It was their final meal.

“You eat, too.”

The kind old man, along with the others who had been as quiet as corpses, distributed the porridge to the children.

The children expressed their gratitude and ate the porridge cleanly. Puppet did the same.

“Go.”

In the dark night, illuminated only by moonlight, the old man listened carefully at the iron door and, hearing no movements, gave the signal.

On his cue, the tallest boy, Levovsky, was the first to crawl through the hole. The rest of the children followed one by one.

It was slow going since they had to enter one at a time, but the hole was too small for any other way.

Puppet volunteered to go last.

While the other kids were eager to get out, Puppet didn’t feel the same way.

Thanks to that, he ended up having a short conversation with the ‘good’ prisoner.

“You really don’t seem eager to leave.”

“Well…”

“You think you won’t make it out?”

Puppet offered his silent agreement.

Given the nature of their captivity, it was likely that this place was in a remote area, and in such a place, escaping with a group of children would be far too difficult.

“Still, you should try. You said you had to see your family, right?”

The old man referred to the lie Puppet had told to match the others earlier.

“Ah, yes…”

“Who’s your family?”

“What?”

“Your family. Who do you have?”

The man’s tone had shifted slightly. For some reason, Puppet answered.

“I have a grandfather.”

“Ha, how amusing.”

“What is?”

“That you even have that. What’s his name?”

“My grandfather?”

“No, you. What’s your name?”

Your name, huh? Name…

Puppet thought about it. His real name, not the ‘Puppet’ alias.

It wasn’t a joke, but it seemed like he hadn’t heard it for centuries. He couldn’t really remember.

‘What was my name again? Not Puppet, my real name. The name my grandfather gave me…’

“—Kid. It’s your turn.”

While Puppet was racking his brain to recall the name forgotten in the sands of time, someone called out to him.

It was finally Puppet’s turn as the child in front of him crawled through.

Still unable to think of his name, Puppet approached the hole.

“Leopold.”

The old man spoke over Puppet’s departing back.

“Leopold Rasmussen. That’s my name.”

The old man who had been playing the ‘good prisoner.’ No, Rasmussen had given Puppet his name.

Why?

Before Puppet could ask, the old man explained.

“I thought at least one person should know. Now go.”

In his usual gruff tone, the old man ordered Puppet once again to leave, and without replying, Puppet crawled through the hole.

Rustle. Crunch. Rustle. Crack—!

Afterward, Puppet finally emerged under the pale moonlight that shone outside the prison.

“Here, over here…!”

In the snowy forest, tinged with the pale hue of the moon and snow, the children who had hidden themselves called out to Puppet.

Puppet felt the cold of the snow with his bare feet as he walked to them, and the children immediately began to debate where they should go.

Or rather, they were less debating and more wandering.

“Wh-where should we go?”

“Should we just follow the road?”

“Going by the road is dangerous. Better to…”

Their opinions were all over the place. This was the expected result.

Even if you escaped from a tightly guarded prison, what awaited outside was nothing but a forest, snow, and a vast, empty land.

Logically speaking, even if children escaped to a place like this, it would be nearly impossible for them to survive.

Logically speaking.

“We should go this way.”

As the unofficial leader of the kids, Levovsky racked his brain to try and coordinate all the opinions, but Puppet casually threw a statement in as if tossing a stone.

The children, who had been in a frenzy of noise, immediately stopped and turned toward Puppet.

Their eyes asking, ‘What are you on about?’

Suspicion and a bit of irritation flashed in their eyes.

Puppet, unfazed, simply pointed deeper into the forest and started walking.

“Hey… what are you…”

“You don’t have to follow. I already told you.”

Puppet didn’t spare a second glance at the bewildered children and continued walking.

At this point, he’d done more than his fair share.

Whether it was due to some confidence exuding from Puppet or not, the children looked at each other, and one by one, they got up and followed.

Step. Step. Step.

And so, Puppet led the children through the forest.

Deeper and deeper.

***

Puppet had no particular reason for heading further into the forest.

It was essentially like a man who’d been born in the slums resorting to criminal life, or a woman becoming a prostitute.

He simply made the choice based on the environment and circumstances, because, honestly, there weren’t any alternatives.

Why?

Because the organization holding Puppet captive was none other than the Valerie Family.

Valerie Family.

A smaller Dark Sorcerer family compared to the Chepskaya, Kopskaya, and Vallisha Families, but they dealt in similar businesses.

Meaning they specialized in buying or kidnapping people, extracting emotions and life energy, and then processing the bodies into products or selling them as parts.

Puppet knew this better than anyone because he had proposed this business model to them.

Not only had he suggested it, but he had also lent them money, provided the business system, and shared his knowledge.

In exchange, through his disciples, Puppet would buy the products they manufactured and sell them in places like Randa and Gallos, earning a commission.

The point of this story is that Puppet knew the Valerie Family better than most.

He hadn’t realized while inside the prison, but now that he was outside and looking at the surroundings, certain memories were coming back to him.

It had been years, but this wasn’t his first visit here.

“Is this really the right way?”

A few minutes into their walk, Levovsky, representing the group of children, asked Puppet.

In the middle of this deep forest where no people seemed to exist, was there really a path to escape? The answer was simple.

“It’s not certain.”

“What?”

Disappointed by this answer, Levovsky grabbed Puppet, forcing him to stop. Having trusted Puppet thus far, a response like that was understandably frustrating.

But, as Puppet had mentioned before—

“—There aren’t any other options.”

“What do you mean?!”

Levovsky shouted, and, growing tired, Puppet explained.

“I’ll say this just once, so listen carefully. This is the outskirts, a place people don’t usually frequent.”

“But there’s a road…”

“Yes. If you took that road and walked for a long time, you’d eventually reach a village or port city. But before that, you’d be captured by the Dark Sorcerers.”

No matter how much they hurried, the fact that the children had escaped would be discovered by tomorrow.

It could be reported as early as morning or as late as the evening.

The trick of covering the kids with blankets to make it look like they were still there would only work once or twice at most.

Once the Dark Sorcerers knew the children had fled, they would get in their cars and give chase. With the children’s pace, there was no doubt they would be caught.

“But, but, if we keep running without stopping—”

“—You might make it. And if you’re lucky, kind folks will give us food and shelter. And when the Dark Sorcerers come for us, they’ll hand us over.”

“…Why?”

“Because they’re in on it.”

Puppet told the child the brutal truth about the world.

Most of the villages and towns near the prison had already made deals with the Dark Sorcerers.

Puppet had instructed them to do so, so he knew this well.

After all, there were always occasional lucky escapees, so the towns served as the final safety net to catch them.

In remote areas like this, relying on outside help was inevitable, so all they had to do was bribe the locals, ensuring that any runaways would always be caught.

Simple logic.

Thud.

The truth hit harder than expected, and the children slumped to the ground.

Was it the kid who’d wanted to see his mother?

“Then why are we heading this way?”

Levovsky, barely managing to keep it together, questioned Puppet again. As the leader, he was doing his best to stay strong.

“There might be people who can help us here.”

The children looked at Puppet like he was a liar, but he wasn’t lying.

The Winter Kingdom had always been unstable, and that instability gave rise to many Dark Sorcerers.

But it wasn’t just Dark Sorcerers who ran rampant.

There were also bandits, rebels, and revolutionaries.

According to the reports from Puppet’s disciple overseeing this region, these sorts of people frequently hid out in the nearby forest. It was sparsely populated, after all.

And there was one more piece of good news.

“Most of them hate the Dark Sorcerers. They compete for resources, their ideologies clash. So, the chances of them turning us over to the Sorcerers is slim. That’s why we’re heading this way.”

The children gazed blankly at Puppet as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“How—how do you know all this?”

Levovsky asked once more, his face reflecting fear and confusion.

Puppet’s response was simple.

“What’s it to you?”

Then, he resumed walking.

***

Step. Step. Step.

The children marched onward, following Puppet without any stops.

There was no time for rest, and Puppet didn’t seem inclined to halt.

They trudged in silence, their bare feet stepping on stones and snow.

It hurt more with each step, yet none of the kids complained.

They understood this situation was far too dire, and more than that, they knew that even if they did complain, Puppet wouldn’t stop.

Step. Step. Step.

They continued walking and walking. Occasionally, Levovsky would carefully ask Puppet a question.

“But, will they really help us?”

“We’ll find out when we get there.”

“…”

Puppet, clearly uninterested in humoring further discussion, gave a half-hearted reply. With that, Levovsky went quiet.

The assertive, bossy child they’d met in the prison was gone. In the end, he was just a kid.

Still, they really would have to wait until they got there.

It was true. But Puppet also held some hope in success.

He had a plan to persuade them using one of his secret stashes.

His secret stashes.

These were caches containing portions of the immense wealth Puppet had accumulated over centuries, hidden in various places.

Negotiating wouldn’t be easy, but the odds were in his favor.

The bandits, rebels, and revolutionaries in the Winter Kingdom were all notorious for struggling with funds.

They would probably take a chance and investigate his claim, and in exchange for a few more stashes, they could give Puppet freedom and protection.

They were greedy, too, but they weren’t as bad as the Dark Sorcerers.

‘Ten stashes… No, maybe I’ll tell them a hundred if I have to. It’s not like I’m short on money.’

It was a hassle, but a viable escape route had finally appeared. And with decent odds.

Suddenly, another dilemma appeared.

Once Puppet struck a deal and secured his freedom and safety, what would he do next?

‘Hmm…’

After setting a singular, relentless goal for centuries, Puppet found himself hesitating.

He had no clue what to do after achieving his freedom.

‘I guess that makes sense.’

After all, he had finally achieved the goal he’d pursued for centuries—though it wasn’t by his own hand.

At that moment, Puppet felt his heart start to beat again.

His next goal resurfaced: resurrecting his grandfather.

For a brief time, the pain and despair had caused him to forget, but his goal hadn’t disappeared.

He still needed to create a body for his grandfather and create a soul imprinted with his memories to bring him back to life.

As that thought crossed his mind, his motivation returned, and Puppet’s heart began to beat in earnest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But the sound of those heartbeats quickly faded.

Could he really accomplish that?

The loss of his Dark Magic wasn’t the problem. What bothered him more was whether he truly believed he could succeed.

Even though he had become human, it was only out of Oliver’s whim.

Puppet himself hadn’t accomplished anything.

Could someone like him really manage to resurrect his grandfather?

‘Well, so what.’

Puppet muttered to himself.

Even if the chances of success were slim, and even if he ultimately failed, just having a goal was enough.

Becoming human might have been enough, but it was better to keep living. And having a reason to live made it even better.

Even if that goal was one he’d likely fail to achieve.

Though his priorities felt somewhat jumbled, it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that he now had a reason to keep moving forward.

And just as he was strengthening his resolve—

Crunch!

A sound echoed through the snow-covered pine trees.

“Stop.”

The children almost jumped from fright, but a heavy, deep voice rang out.

A group of armed men dressed in a mix of military and civilian clothes approached, surrounding them.

Judging by the atmosphere, they seemed more like rebels or revolutionaries than bandits.

.

That was a good start. They were better to negotiate with than bandits.

At least they had a cause, and as long as you paid the price, they’d stick to their promises.

“Who are you? Government spies?”

One of the armed men pointed his gun at them and asked threateningly. Levovsky quickly answered.

“No! We’re not spies!”

“Then who are you?”

“We… we escaped. We were kidnapped… by some people…”

Creak.

“Kidnapped? You mean traffickers?”

“Um… I don’t really know. But, please, help us.”

Click.

“What should we do?”

“We should at least take them with us. We’re supposed to be revolutionaries for the people, aren’t we?”

Click.

“Are, are you going to help us?”

Creak.

“Yeah, but you better do what we say!”

“Yes!”

Click.

“Alright, then—”

“Damn it.”

As the children breathed a small sigh of relief, exchanging words with the revolutionaries, Puppet whispered under his breath.

His voice brimming with genuine feeling.

And as soon as that feeling spread, a silence colder than the snow-covered ground descended.

Creak. Click. Creak…

The faintly ringing sound of screws echoed clearly.

Puppet knew better than anyone what that noise meant. It was once his specialty.

Sensing something was wrong, the children looked back at the self-proclaimed revolutionaries.

Heh…

They grinned with a disconcerting smile.

Click!

One of them opened its mouth like a nutcracker and fired a tranquilizer gun.

Thud! Thud!

The children, hit by the tranquilizer darts, collapsed as if knocked out.

Swoosh-!

In the meantime, another armed individual threw open its chest like a door and cast a huge net, capturing many of the children.

“Ah… Aaaaaaah!!”

“Save us!”

“…!!”

The children trapped in the net were dragged away, screaming for help, but no one came to their aid.

“Aaaaaaaagh!!!”

“Aaah! Aaagh! Aaaagh!!!”

“Mom?! Mom!”

Everyone fled, screaming in terror.

All except Puppet, frozen in fear.

Leboski grabbed Puppet’s hand and dragged him away forcefully.

“Run!!”