Chapter 8: The harder you push, the more fiercely it will spring back.

Inside the cabin, a wordless silence brewed.

Mo Wen cast a cautious glance at the masked girl, swallowing hard in secret. He did not know if his explanation would be enough to save his life, but judging by her reaction, it seemed there was at least a glimmer of hope.

"I accept your explanation."

Frelia’s tone was flat, devoid of any discernible emotion. Before Mo Wen could relax, he heard the "however" that followed. His heart instantly leaped back into his throat.

"However, even if I spare you, you likely won't live for long. Once the puppet transformation is complete, you will lose the memories and emotions of your former life, becoming an uncontrollable danger for a significant period. Rather than waiting for that to happen, I might as well end it for you now. At least that way, you can leave with some dignity."

The witch’s tone remained unchanged. Following her gaze, Mo Wen looked down at his own chest. Even in the dim light, the wooden textures were chillingly clear. The "True Puppet Curse," at a nine percent conversion rate, had stained his left chest and a large portion of his torso with wood grain. The areas where skin transitioned into wood appeared a ghastly, shocking gray-white.

Mo Wen pressed his lips together. After a moment of silence, he spoke, half to reassure himself and half as an explanation: "There are ways to mitigate it. As long as my physical constitution continues to improve, the speed at which the curse deepens will be slowed or even suppressed, so..."

Frelia let out a soft, mocking laugh. "So, you believe that by increasing your physical strength, you can purge the puppet curse? Do you think you are the first person to be afflicted by it?"

"In view of the fact that you helped 'me' not long ago, I will give you the answer directly. Within the Augustus Empire, there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, who have been infected with the puppet curse—and those are only the ones the Empire has officially identified. The number hidden in the shadows is surely higher."

"The method you speak of has already been tried by others. It is true that physical growth can suppress the progression of the curse, but it cannot eradicate it. It is like a demon that offers a sliver of hope only to ruthlessly devour it in the end."

Frelia’s pale yellow eyes, visible beneath her mask, fixed upon him. "The speed at which the puppet curse deepens increases over time. Whether it is physical constitution or spirit, their suppression of the curse is only temporary. Humans have limits, and so do professionals; when you find yourself stuck at a bottleneck in your rank, your physical and spiritual growth will stagnate."

"Think of the puppet curse as a spring, and the suppression from your spirit and body as the external force applied to it. The tighter the spring is compressed, the more energy it stores. Once it bursts, the consequences will be devastating."

"To date, the one who has 'survived' the longest after being infected with the puppet curse in the Empire was a Third-Rank Silver professional. He lasted two months. And the curse you carry, derived from the 'Forbidden Artifact: Puppet Kingdom,' is undoubtedly even more treacherous."

Her words left Mo Wen in a long, heavy silence. He knew better than anyone that he was not suffering from a mere puppet curse, but a *True* Puppet Curse. They looked the same, but their essence was vastly different.

In the quiet, even the sound of the waves outside the small cabin porthole felt piercing. Mo Wen looked up, his expression calm as he met Frelia's gaze. "Since you have told me so much, I assume you are not just here to mock me? Since the puppet curse has existed in the Empire for so long, someone must have studied it in depth. Perhaps a way to cure it has already been found."

The witch chuckled. "That is why I like smart people. A special institution within the Empire has indeed discovered some things regarding the puppet curse, but it still requires verification. You are a very suitable candidate."

"However, that is not a place where an ordinary professional can survive, especially since you are only a lowly Black Iron. The mortality rate is no less than one percent—and I mean every single day."

"But compared to the certain death of the puppet curse, is this not an acceptable risk?"

"I can give you the opportunity to join this special institution as a reward for the help you gave 'me' earlier. After that, we shall be even. Tell me your choice."

Mo Wen exhaled. First, she threatened to "give him dignity," and then she dangled the hope of a cure within an imperial institution. Between certain death and a chance at survival, did he even have a choice?

As a man who once hailed from the land of China on Earth, he was someone who could be flexible when necessary, but his backbone would never—and could never—be broken.

"Please, I must insist on joining, Lady Frelia."

Mo Wen bowed with sincere eyes, his face filled with longing. Though a man’s pride should stand tall, he knew that knowing when to bend and when to stand was the mark of a true man.

"A wise choice." Frelia folded her arms, nodding in satisfaction—a gesture that made her silhouette all the more striking. "Keep the Cursed Puppet with you for now; consider it a tool for self-defense. Make sure you do not lose it; it will be of great use in resolving the curse later."

"That is all."

With those words, the witch turned toward the door. "The Black Beast is nearing port. You should prepare yourself for the interrogation at Falling Star Port. This ship has docked there more than once; without someone backing it, that would be impossible."

Her tone was meaningful. "Consider this your first test for joining the organization. A person who is powerful but reckless will not go far in this mysterious, transcendent world."

The witch was gone.

Inside the cabin, Mo Wen fell into deep thought. Frelia’s words reminded him of the shady middleman who had dumped him onto the Black Beast. The crew’s inhuman, puppet-like bodies were clearly not suited for normal society, yet someone was providing services for them. It was obvious that a noble in Falling Star Port was opening the door for the Black Beast.

But what was the motive? Collaborating with a group of dangerous, inhuman beings while risking the wrath of the Empire clearly suggested a hidden agenda. Nobles might be greedy or ruthless, but they were rarely stupid.

Was it because they needed something from the "Puppet Kingdom" behind the Black Beast? Or was there another reason?

For some reason, Mo Wen thought of one of the conditions for using the "Strange Object: Cursed Puppet"—a material sacrifice.

"Could it be Rust-element Stone?"

Mo Wen shook his head. He would only know once he made contact with the officials at Falling Star Port. After all, he didn't even know what Rust-element Stone was yet.

More than that, he was concerned about Frelia. During their conversation, the witch did not deny that he had saved her, meaning she still remembered what had happened earlier. Yet, her personality and attitude toward him had undergone a complete transformation. It was as if, once she donned that mask, she became a different person from the girl in the prison uniform, despite sharing the same memories.

Unfortunately, his rank was too low. Even with his scouting skills, he could not determine the true nature of Frelia's condition.

Thinking of the True Puppet Curse in his body, the special institution he was about to join, and the "capricious" witch... Mo Wen sighed.

He could only take things one step at a time. Fortunately, he had the system.

A "Perfect Life System"? This start was certainly "perfect" enough.