Chapter 267 - 32: The Real Puppet Master

The man’s technique truly lived up to his ID: Magician.

From making balloons fly over on their own to filling them with the sound of his voice, he displayed one wondrous trick after another. His methods were both novel and entertaining.

Amid a shower of confetti, a business card landed right in Duan Fei’s hand. The front bore the Magician’s title and guild affiliation; the back, a location.

Bystander A took the card for a look, then pointed to the location. "I know this place. It’s a port not far from here. Are we going to the rendezvous?"

"Of course. Why wouldn’t we? But before we do, let’s make some arrangements."

At 6:00 PM, Duan Fei led the charge himself, bringing four players and over a dozen of his men as they marched with great fanfare toward the designated location.

By now, the Gentlemen’s Association and the Foreigners had issued their kill orders. The entire city was on edge, with the sound of gunfire echoing everywhere.

Most residents had evacuated overnight. The only ones left were the homeless, forced to remain and hide in the shadows, praying they wouldn’t be found.

The city had already descended into chaos. The conflict and complex relationships between the three gangs, finally triggered by the Clown Gang’s insanity, had now escalated into a disaster that threatened to destroy the entire city.

Riding in a Beetle on the way to the docks, Duan Fei watched the scenery outside and concluded that the people from the Madhouse were truly insane.

’And yet, they are a very rational brand of insane.’

Their madness was a means to an end. Once they realized they couldn’t seize the market ahead of Mashed Potatoes, they decisively adopted a different way to play the game.

The so-called "flipping the chessboard" tactic.

’If I can’t conquer this market, then I’ll just shatter it. That way, nobody gets a piece.’

’We’re a huge organization, and you’re just small-time. To avoid losing your livelihood, you’ll have no choice but to come begging to us.’

Following the directions on the card, Duan Fei arrived at the docks and saw the meeting point the Magician had designated: a small boat floating on the water.

The Magician had requested they meet there, but he hadn’t brought the boat to shore. Instead, it was left floating three hundred meters out.

The message was obvious: ’Figure out how to get on board yourselves.’

Seeing through their little ploy, Duan Fei pointed at the boat and said, "They say the people from the Madhouse are insane, but it looks to me like they’ve got some brains. They’re already trying to intimidate us."

"So, do we make our move?" Bystander A asked.

"Do it."

Several of their men got out of the car and, using its roof as a mount, set up three grenade launchers.

These were the items Flora had brought along.

Duan Fei was curious why she would bring grenade launchers into an instance. Flora’s answer: "The Maid told me to. She told me to bring something big, hard, and that could make people scream. So, I brought these."

"...You do realize she was messing with you, right?"

"Was she? Who teases someone with grenade launchers? Anyway, use them well. This stuff isn’t cheap."

The Maid stifled a laugh, stepped forward to make some adjustments, and then gave the order to fire.

There was no ceremony, no preamble. The modern weapons were fired. Trailing smoke, the grenades soared toward the ship and struck home as everyone watched.

A massive explosion erupted. The entire vessel, rocked by the impact, began to sink with incredible speed, quickly vanishing from sight.

Squinting into the distance, they could only see a group of clowns fleeing in panic. Not a single one was a player with an ID.

Turning back, the Maid scanned the crowd of onlookers and spotted someone with an ID among them. A moment later, that person spotted her too.

He was an ugly player, a rare sight in *Abyss*.

In *Abyss*, avatars were based on a player’s real-life appearance, but with a slight obfuscation. This made them recognizable while still protecting their privacy.

Generally, attractive people were made slightly less so, while unattractive people were slightly enhanced.

Yet this player’s face was covered in scars—dozens of them, crisscrossing his features and giving him an exceptionally fearsome appearance.

He was also tall and powerfully built. Just standing there, he exuded an inhuman aura that was deeply unsettling.

The Maid shot to her feet, said a quick word to the others, and was the first to charge her target.

As she closed in, she produced over a dozen silver dinner knives from beneath her skirt. Finding a gap in the crowd, she instantly flung them at the opposing player.

But to her surprise, he actually broke into a faint smile.

He raised a hand, intercepting the knives. Every single one struck the back of his hand, yet not a single drop of blood was drawn.

Retreating slowly, he pulled the knives out one by one, carefully keeping his distance from the Maid. Then, spotting an opening, he threw them right back at her, perfectly mimicking her attack.

The Maid raised her own hands and caught the knives, stunned for a second time.

His movements were identical to her own, as if she were looking in a mirror.

Judging by the returned knives, his strength was slightly greater than hers, and his Precision was higher too.

If this instance hadn’t weakened all players’ Attributes, the Maid was certain she wouldn’t have even been able to catch those knives.

She didn’t back down, however.

’Taking out the trash is part of a maid’s daily duties,’ she thought. ’And anyone who dares to harm my master is the worst kind of trash—something that must be eliminated.’

She gripped the knives reverse-handed and threw them again, this time with even greater force and speed.

Sixteen dinner knives flew through the crowd, zipping back and forth like weaver’s shuttles.

Each throw was imbued with their full strength, yet not a single bystander was harmed; the knives flew only toward their intended targets.

Their exchange grew faster and faster until they both reached the limits of their speed in this instance. The Maid was starting to feel the strain.

Her opponent’s stamina seemed inexhaustible, while her own was beginning to wane.

Glancing at his ID, the Maid memorized the name: Puppet Master.

Finally, as another volley of knives flew toward her, the Maid staggered. Her stamina seemingly depleted, she collapsed to the ground.

A smile touched the Puppet Master’s lips, but it instantly froze.

At some point, the Maid had lured him to the edge of the sea. The silver knives he had just thrown all sailed past her and into the water, missing their mark completely.

And the Maid, who should have been collapsing, had used the motion to pivot and reappear behind him.

Her deceptively pliant body coiled around him. The Maid trapped one of the Puppet Master’s arms in a jujutsu lock, then applied a sudden, sharp pressure.

With a sharp CRACK, his powerful right arm broke. But no blood flowed from the wound.

In the gap where the right arm had been, a hollow cavity was revealed. Inside, a pale-faced young boy sat, staring out in utter shock.

He was the true Puppet Master.