Chapter 214

Chapter 214

"This is my first truly supernatural puppet." Evan opened his eyes, his gaze becoming intensely focused, with faint silver-white light flickering at his fingertips—a sign of him channeling his Supernatural Factor.

The core ability of a Puppeteer is to infuse their Supernatural Factor into the material, granting the puppet awareness and control, and the face is the most sensitive part for spiritual perception, making it the most important part to carve.

He picked up the smallest carving knife, the blade glinting coldly in the moonlight stone's glow. Evan didn't rush into cutting; instead, he first channeled his Supernatural Factor, letting it slowly seep into the maple wood through his fingertips.

The pale silver Supernatural Factor flowed like a stream through the wood's grain, gradually covering the area to be carved into a face. Under the factor's influence, the maple's texture became clearer, and he could even faintly sense the spiritual nodes within the wood—this was the unique "Material Resonance" ability of a Sequence 8 Puppeteer.

"Hum—" The carving knife gently touched the maple's surface, emitting a slight tremor. Evan turned his wrist with precision, the blade cutting into the wood, shaving off a thin curl of wood.

His movements were slow and steady, each angle and depth perfectly controlled, fully following the supernatural knowledge in his mind. The Supernatural Factor seeped in synchronously with the blade, leaving faint spiritual imprints on the carved areas, which would serve as the foundation for later spiritual infusion and control link establishment.

He first outlined the puppet's facial contours—rounded cheeks, a slightly raised forehead, with soft yet firm lines. Evan opted for a simple, combat-oriented style, avoiding excessive decoration that might hinder flexibility. Next came the eye carving, the step that demanded the most precision.

Evan held his breath, dialing his Supernatural Factor output down to a minimum, carefully carving the wood with the blade. The curve of the eyelids, the outline of the eyeballs, even the fine lines of the pupils, were all carved with precision. When the final cut was made, the puppet's eyes seemed to gain life, giving off a calm aura even before spiritual infusion.

Then came the carving of the nose and mouth.

The nose was small and straight, with naturally flowing nostril curves; the mouth was a slightly pursed line, carrying a hint of seriousness, fitting for a combat puppet. Throughout the carving, Evan maintained intense focus, his mind free of distractions, only the knife, the wood, and the supernatural knowledge present.

The studio was filled only with the faint sound of the knife slicing through wood, and the soft light from the moonlight stone wall lamps enveloping the workbench.

After a while, when Evan put down the carving knife and wiped the sweat off his forehead, a complete puppet head sat on the workbench.

The maple's light yellowish-brown grain naturally extended across the head's surface, every facial detail was exquisitely crafted. The faint silver glow from the Supernatural Factor flowed through the grain, giving the head a subtle spiritual radiance.

Compared to his three previous crude wooden puppets, this one was worlds apart in both craftsmanship and spiritual energy.

Evan gently picked up the puppet head, examining it closely. His fingertips felt not just the wood's warmth but also a subtle resonance from the fusion of Supernatural Factor and material.

He could clearly sense that this head now had the foundation to hold spirituality. Once the body was carved, joints assembled, and spiritual energy infused, it would become a truly combat-ready supernatural puppet.

"Phew—" Evan let out a long breath, a surge of indescribable satisfaction welling up inside him.

This was his first time truly using his Sequence 8 abilities to craft a puppet. Though mentally draining, the process gave him a deeper understanding of the Puppeteer's powers. He placed the puppet head on a shelf, planning to rest briefly before carving the body.

The moonlight stone lamps on both walls were already lit, their warm white light cascading like moonlight, precisely illuminating the central workbench—every detail, from scattered wood shavings to neatly arranged tools and the newly completed puppet, shone with a soft glow.

The air still carried the fragrance of maple wood and the faint spiritual residue from the dissipated Supernatural Factor, blending into a reassuring atmosphere.

Evan walked slowly to the workbench, his gaze fixed on the fully formed puppet, his eyes filled with barely concealed satisfaction and pride. He reached out, carefully brushing his fingertips over the puppet's surface—it was smooth and delicate, free of any burrs, the natural maple grain visible under the light, perfectly merging with his carved lines.

The puppet stood as tall as his forearm, with well-proportioned, graceful lines, no longer the crude form of his earlier attempts. He had deliberately infused Supernatural Factor during carving, and the pale silver remnants still lingered in the wood's grain, flowing with the light, giving the puppet an ethereal spiritual sheen.

Evan turned and retrieved a set of pre-prepared small clothes from the canvas bag's inner pocket—clothes he had specially ordered from a handmade garment shop on his way to the club.

The outfit was sewn from soft pink flannel, with delicate white lace trims on the cuffs and hem, and a tiny pearl button at the collar, exquisitely crafted.

He carefully picked up the clothes, first slipping the small top onto the puppet, gently adjusting the collar and cuffs, then slowly lowering the skirt to the perfect position. Throughout, his movements were as tender as if handling a rare treasure, afraid that too much force might damage the delicate puppet.

When the last pearl button was fastened, a stunningly exquisite puppet doll lay fully revealed on the workbench. The puppet's face was carved with remarkable vitality—willow-leaf eyebrows arched gracefully, eyes clear and spirited, a small, straight nose, and soft lip lines carrying a faint smile. Evan had also used dye to color the hair a light brown, styled into a neat bun secured with a silver hairpin, adding a touch of charm. The pink flannel dress accentuated the puppet's skin (the maple wood, specially polished, showed a warm milky white), making it even more delicate. The spiritual glow interplayed with the lace trims, evoking the image of a little noble lady from a grand estate.

Anyone with normal aesthetic sense would unhesitatingly acknowledge this as a high-end Miss Doll. Not to mention the Supernatural Factor-infused maple wood and the exquisite carving craftsmanship, the custom-fitted, finely made clothes alone were enough to highlight its value. If placed in a noble shop in the Empire's heartland, any young noble lady fond of dolls would be willing to pay at least a hundred Sala gold coins for it—a sum that could sustain an ordinary family for a full year, a testament to the doll's extraordinary worth.

Evan looked at the puppet on the workbench, a faint smile involuntarily curling at the corners of his mouth.

As Evan's fingertips stroked the puppet's delicate hair, his eyes held not only satisfaction but also a hint of hidden sharpness.

This puppet's delicacy has always been just a front. Hidden within its seemingly charming body are the lethal killing moves he designed for actual combat. He gently placed the puppet at the center of the workbench, pressed his fingertips into its slender wrist, and gave it a gentle twist along the joint—with a soft "shhh-click," two half-inch-long silver blades silently sprang from the inside of the puppet's wrist, like silver snakes baring their fangs. The blades were as thin as cicada wings, gleaming with a cold, sharp light under the moonlight stone's glow, their edges sharp enough to slice the air itself.

This was only the beginning. Evan did not stop there; he moved on to the puppet's elbow and shoulder joints. With each touch, faint mechanical sounds accompanied the movements: from the elbow emerged curved hook-shaped blades, spreading like an eagle's claws poised to strike, their sharp tips glinting, perfect for catching on an enemy's clothes or weapon; from the shoulders came shorter yet sharper piercing blades, precisely protruding like a venomous bee's stinger, capable of easily penetrating an opponent's weak points. The biggest surprise was the puppet's skirt. Evan pressed a pearl button on the inside of the hem, and instantly, six slender blades shot out from the skirt's edge, like a metal flower suddenly blooming, each petal bearing deadly sharpness. They could retract in an instant, and without close inspection, the lethal intent beneath the skirt would go unnoticed.

He even built hidden mechanisms into the puppet's ankles. With a gentle twist, two crescent-shaped blades emerged from the soles of its shoes, like a leopard's unsheathed claws, capable of slashing enemies during jumps or providing better grip on slippery surfaces.

These blades were crafted from specially selected steel scraps he had polished, and during forging, he infused them with a trace of Supernatural Factor. Not only were they far harder than ordinary steel, but they could also conduct his spirituality, allowing him to precisely control the blades' extension and retraction through thought alone, eliminating the need for manual operation and offering great flexibility in combat.

To test the blades' sharpness, Evan picked up a small piece of scattered wood shavings and gently brought it to the blade protruding from the puppet's wrist. With a mere brush, the shaving was cleanly cut in two, the incision as smooth as silk sliced by a razor. He then took a piece of thick flannel and let the hook-shaped blade at the puppet's elbow lightly snag it—the fabric instantly tore into a neat gash, demonstrating the blade's lethality.

"Now this is a true combat puppet," Evan murmured to himself, a confident smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Who would imagine that such an exquisite puppet, one noble young ladies would gladly pay a fortune for, is actually an insidious assassination weapon? Enemies are often deceived by its harmless appearance, and the moment they let their guard down is precisely when these blades strike fatally.

Back on Island Eleven, if he'd had a puppet like this, he wouldn't have needed to fight the natives in desperate hand-to-hand combat. He could have simply sent the puppet to creep close and take the enemy by surprise, greatly reducing his own risk.

He moved his fingertips again, injecting a faint wisp of spirituality. As the spiritual energy flowed, all the extended blades retracted back into the joints in sequence, leaving no trace behind, as if they had a life of their own.

The puppet reverted to its charming Miss Doll form, standing quietly on the workbench, as if the cold, gleaming blades had never existed.

This design of "effortless concealment and revelation, with a deceptive exterior" was what Evan took the most pride in—it could serve as camouflage to mislead enemies while unleashing deadly combat power at critical moments, perfectly meeting his practical needs as a freelance guardian.

Evan carefully cradled the puppet in his palm, feeling the warm texture and spiritual resonance transmitted through his hand. This puppet was not only a testament to his skill but also a crucial asset for his upcoming journeys through the colonies.

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Author's note: Please add to your bookmarks [Three-colored Cat Head].