No sooner had the words left his mouth than the train entered a tunnel. Under the dim tunnel lights, Wan Wuqiu's face seemed to be covered by a thin layer of ash—blurry and unreadable.
"Of course I have one," Wan Wuqiu said calmly. "I sent him out to scout the area."
"Is it true that the first puppet realm a Puppetmaster enters is always random?" Xie Mingchi asked.
Wan Wuqiu nodded. "Yeah. Remember that ball of ghostfire back in the Void? Wherever she sends you, that's where you go."
"So, is this puppet realm a hard one?"
"Depends who you're with," Wan Wuqiu said, rubbing his chin with a slight smile. "If you're with me, I guarantee you'll walk out alive."
Xie Mingchi didn't respond. He turned his eyes to the side, silently waiting for the train to stop.
The tunnel soon came to an end. Light flooded in from the windows—so sudden it was almost blinding.
"We're here," Wan Wuqiu stood up and patted Xie Mingchi on the shoulder. "Want to meet my ghost puppet?"
Naturally, Xie Mingchi wouldn't refuse. Once the train stopped smoothly and the doors slid open, he followed Wan Wuqiu off the train.
The sky was a dull gray, as if still influenced by the rain from earlier. The air was damp, heavy with moisture that clung to the skin and carried a coldness.
Wan Wuqiu walked at the front, with Xie Mingchi and He Qi trailing behind.
Something about Wan Wuqiu felt... off. Like he wasn't telling them the full truth. Which wasn't uncommon in dungeons, but still—he seemed like a man wearing a flawless mask.
Too flawless. Too perfect. So perfect, it felt fake.
More people disembarked from other carriages, mostly in pairs. If Xie Mingchi had to guess, they were all Puppetmasters and their ghost puppets.
He kept looking, but didn't see anyone getting off the train alone. That made him wonder—did Wan Wuqiu really have a ghost puppet?
This train was unlike any in the real world, and the station was no different. Xie Mingchi didn't see any exit gates. In fact, from the moment they got off, there was only one path forward.
What if someone got scared and wanted to go back?
He turned and looked at the train. Through the windows, he saw the once-lifeless figures now facing outward—
Their faces were gone.
They stared silently out the windows, as if seeing off another batch of people headed to their deaths.
...Yeah. No one would want to go back into that carriage.
"Just follow this path and you'll officially enter the puppet realm," Wan Wuqiu led the way. "That's the rule."
On both sides of the path were grayish-green shrubs, tall as two men. They blocked any view of what lay beyond.
After about five minutes, the shrubs finally ended, and through the mist, a large building emerged in the distance.
That must be the fabled "Maze Villa."
Along the way, very few Puppetmasters and ghost puppets spoke. As if by unspoken agreement, everyone kept to themselves.
No one joked. With death possibly lurking ahead, no one was in the mood.
Xie Mingchi looked back—the train had already vanished into the fog. He couldn't help asking again, "Where exactly is your ghost puppet?"
"Right here, young master. Looking for me?"
Before Wan Wuqiu could answer, a voice rang out from the end of the path—smooth, flirtatious, and unmistakably male. The speaker stepped into view soon after.
Wan Wuqiu's own voice was gentle too, but in a serene, jade-like way. He carried himself with refined elegance—almost too perfect.
But his ghost puppet was a different kind of "soft."
The man had shoulder-length wavy hair, tied loosely with a small band. A few strands were dyed a dark green. His shirt was unbuttoned into a deep V, and the jacket hung lazily off one shoulder.
In short: flamboyant.
Ghostly flamboyant.
Wan Wuqiu's expression tightened. "Why are you dressed like this again?"
"Aww, come on, senior," the ghost puppet said with a grin, tugging his jacket higher. "After all these years, still not used to it? I've always dressed like this."
Wan Wuqiu replied flatly, "Right now you look less straight than the letters on Xiao He's T-shirt."
The ghost puppet: "...?"
He Qi: "Huh?"
Xie Mingchi: *Cough.*
Was it necessary to be that specific?
Trying to change the subject, Xie Mingchi pointed at the ghost puppet. "Why did he call you senior?"
Wan Wuqiu glanced at his ghost puppet and sighed. He seemed reluctant to explain. "There's always some sort of connection between Puppetmasters and their ghost puppets. Funny thing—he was my junior back in school. Now he's my ghost puppet."
"That's right," the ghost puppet said with a smile. "I'm Shen Feinian, your senior's ghost puppet."
Bound even after death. Their relationship must've been more than just classmates.
The four continued walking as they chatted. Once introductions were done, the villa finally stood fully visible before them.
Four stories tall. Grand, yes—but the exterior walls were covered in moss and wild vines, as if abandoned for years. The front doors stood wide open, like an invitation.
"Welcome to Mr. Du's residence. This way, please."
The moment they stepped in, a butler-like figure greeted them with a stiff mechanical smile, bowing respectfully before leading them into the foyer.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, Xie Mingchi's vision swam.
The grand interior blurred and twisted into a new scene—gray walls, a basement-like coldness, bloodstains everywhere, some dried, some fresh. Rusted shackles hung on the walls, and the stench of iron filled his nose.
Then, just as quickly, it all vanished.
...This was getting interesting.
The villa wasn't quite as glamorous inside as it looked from the outside. Despite the lavish décor, the lighting was dim, as if everything had been muted by a gray film.
Decay whispered through every corner.
Not long after, the same butler returned with the same fake smile.
"Esteemed guests, Mr. Du has some business to attend to today. He will meet you tomorrow. That will also mark the beginning of a week-long gathering."
So Mr. Du was the owner of this villa.
The butler continued:
"Please settle in tonight. There are a few rules Mr. Du hopes you'll follow:
1. Guest rooms are on the fourth floor—choose freely.
2. The third floor contains the dining hall and some restricted rooms.
3. The second floor is Mr. Du's workspace—do not enter.
4. All events will take place on the first floor.
5. The fourth floor can only be accessed via the elevator.
6. Floors 1–3 are connected only by stairs. The third floor's stairs cannot reach the fourth floor."
With that, he bowed again and disappeared.
This was the first set of rules Xie Mingchi heard after entering the puppet realm—and already they were enough to boggle the mind. He Qi definitely didn't understand a word.
Misinterpret the rules, and it's easy to get yourself killed.
"So the puppet realm will last one week," said a sharp-dressed woman nearby. "And if I understood correctly, we can't use the stairs from the third to the fourth floor—but can come down?"
A man beside her nodded. "Seems like it. Maybe something nasty's waiting if you go *up* from the third."
"What kind of nasty?" Xie Mingchi asked.
The woman gave him a quick once-over, eyes full of disdain. "Newbie, huh? Bit of a noob. 'Nasty' means—could be a person, could be a ghost. But it'll definitely be your death. Probably in some bizarre way."
Then she turned and left for the elevator.
The man gave an apologetic smile. "Don't mind Xiao Xiao. She's blunt… But honestly, if you guys are new, you might want your ghost puppet to stick close. Or find someone to team up with."
"Chu You! Why are you still talking to corpses?" Xiao Xiao's voice called back. The man—Chu You—quickly followed after her.
Moments later, Xie Mingchi and Wan Wuqiu also headed for the elevator.
Xie Mingchi frowned. "Why'd she say we're weak?"
Wan Wuqiu thought for a moment. "Maybe because… out of the four of us: one looks sickly, one looks terminal, one looks terrified, and one looks like a slacker."
"...Not wrong," Xie Mingchi muttered. "Wait—you're the terminal case?"
Wan Wuqiu coughed twice. "Yeah, my health's crap. Pretty much dying. Same as you, no?"
Xie Mingchi: *Gee, thanks.*
But he didn't actually know what was killing him.
The elevator dinged and opened. The four stepped inside.
It looked mostly normal, except for the buttons—only "1" and "4" were available.
Xie Mingchi turned to Wan Wuqiu. "Still have questions. Mind if I ask?"
"Go ahead. No need to stare at me like that—I'll tell you what I know."
"Why do puppet realms exist? And what exactly is a ghost puppet?"
Wan Wuqiu gave him a knowing look. "Think of it like this—each puppet realm is a dungeon. Created by frenzied ghost puppets. Our goal is to find the soul thread held by the gatekeeper puppet—the thread they had in their hands before. Once you have it, the ghost puppet becomes obedient, the realm collapses, and your lifespan increases."
Xie Mingchi caught the key point. "How do you find the soul thread?"
"Varies by realm. It's the thing that ties to their life and death—they hide it well. But it's always connected to the main rules somehow."
He Qi was intrigued. "How much lifespan do we get? Is my brother really about to die?"
He got a flick on the forehead for his trouble.
"Not sure how much you gain. But yeah, he's dying," Wan Wuqiu chuckled darkly. "As for the cause—he'll find out soon enough."
When they exited the elevator, Xie Mingchi walked to the railing and studied the layout. The rooms lined all four walls, forming a giant square like the character .
Each floor had multiple staircases, five or six at least, all connecting different rooms to various lower levels. It was chaotic.
And what lay behind each door—they had no idea.
"Let's stay here. This room's still open," Wan Wuqiu tossed the key in the air. "One big bed, one small bed."
"Fine," Xie Mingchi brought He Qi inside. Just as he was about to close the door, Wan Wuqiu squeezed in.
"What are you doing?"
Shen Feinian blocked the door with his foot, clearly in on it.
"You're ditching your allies already?" Wan Wuqiu said like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"It's just sleeping. There are plenty of rooms—why squeeze in?"
"Hmm..." Wan Wuqiu tapped his chin. "I had a neighbor kid who used to crash at my place every night. I got used to it. Now I can't sleep alone. Especially in puppet realms—sleeping till morning is the safest bet."
"Can't you get over it?"
"Nope. Too many years. Not worth dying over. You don't want to wake up next to a corpse, do you?"
Xie Mingchi hesitated for a long while. Finally, he asked: "How are we splitting the beds?"
"Little He can have the small bed," Wan Wuqiu said, glancing around. "Shen Feinian gets the couch. You and I—big bed."
Xie Mingchi looked uncomfortable, but before he could protest, He Qi shouted, "No! I'm sleeping with my brother! I'll die alone in this place!"
Xie Mingchi nodded. "He's easily scared."
This time, He Qi didn't argue—he just nodded along fervently.
Wan Wuqiu gave him a long look and sighed, "Fine. You two take the big bed. I get it. Boundaries."
*Drama queen*, Xie Mingchi thought suddenly.
After a quick wash-up, everyone settled down. Then Wan Wuqiu spoke again.
"By the way—about what a ghost puppet really is..."
Xie Mingchi turned toward the couch, where Shen Feinian was already sprawled out.
"You gather a soul after someone dies. Find a vessel—any kind of body. Then bind the soul using puppet arts. Last step: use your own heart's blood as an anchor. Paint it in their eyes. That's how the oldest ghost puppets were made," Wan Wuqiu lowered his head, like he was remembering something. "But every step is hard. Not many thread-weavers can make one from scratch."
"Then how are there so many now?"
Wan Wuqiu sighed, voice tinged with something like nostalgia. "Because once, there was a man who dedicated his life to making ghost puppets."
"Why?"
"Because there will always be the living who miss the dead. And the dead who long to return. He never stopped."
He Qi scratched his head. "So he made all these ghost puppets—but now they're creating dangerous realms?"
"Yeah," Wan Wuqiu nodded. "Ghost puppets can't reincarnate. Some chose to stay, but lingered too long and went mad—that's how puppet realms form. Others lost their Puppetmasters and want to move on. To do that, they wait in the Void—until chosen again. Solve enough puppet realms, and they can reincarnate."
After a pause, Xie Mingchi asked quietly, "So... does my ghost puppet want to reincarnate too?"
Wan Wuqiu exhaled. "Maybe. Or maybe... it's still waiting for someone."
S ometime during their talk, night had fallen completely. Silence blanketed everything.
Xie Mingchi smiled faintly, letting the questions go. "Let's sleep."
He pulled the blanket up and quickly dozed off. His health had always been poor—falling asleep quickly was nothing new.
He thought he'd sleep soundly until morning.
But deep in the night… something stirred outside.