Jack didn't immediately answer. He looked at Reina, who was calmly sipping her tea. Her dark eyes met his. A playful glint danced in them. She knew he couldn't resist a case like this.

  Jack also understood himself well enough. A puppet that didn't stay broken held a great appeal to a Steamrune Engineer like him. It was an unknown system. And Jack, due to his excessive curiosity, would definitely want to unravel its mystery.

  "Living puppets..." Jack muttered. "Are you sure they were just wood and cloth. No steamrunes? Gears? Clockwork?"

  "My father said they were pure marionette puppets." Nick confirmed. "No visible runes or gears or strings. Just... they moved."

  "Alright." Jack said. "Let's pack our bags, Love. We’re going to Mirebarrow. I want to see these puppets for myself."

  Reina stood gracefully. Her long dress swirled around her legs. "Of course, Dear. Let's make sure we have everything we need for the mission."

  The three students looked relieved. Harold Mason and Alenna Keener waited patiently in the living room as the pair changed their attires and made some preparation. Their calm demeanor was a stark contrast to Nick's frantic energy. The latter was pacing around the living room impatiently.

  ...

  The journey to Mirebarrow was a long rattling affair via the Elrush Kingdom's steam-rail system. They sat in a private compartment.

  Rune, the mechanical fairy companion, hovered near the window. Her body glowed a soft, curious amber as she watched the landscape blur past.

  "So..." Jack said. Leaning back on his seat. "The victims. You said nine?"

  "Nine." Alenna replied softly. "Two were assaulted on the street, witnessed by plenty of people. The rest met their demise in their homes. No signs of forced entry. The puppets were intercepted and destroyed three times. But they always reappeared the next day. After midnight."

  "Only the targets died." Harold added in a baffled voice. "They didn't attack the witnesses. They retaliated against any attack though."

  Jack closed his eyes. His mind worked through the information he had gathered over many books he had read in this world. And the ones he had personally experienced.

  He considered the possibilities. An evil spirit's vengeance? Like the Drenched Woman case in Lotogear City? A mutated ritual? Like the living locomotive in Whitecoal Town? An ancient curse? A cult's scheme?

  Jack sighed. He realized that any of them was actually possible. He needed more information to be sure.

  ...

  They arrived at Mirebarrow late in the afternoon.

  The town was the definition of industrial gloom. Great chimneys belched grey soot into a sky. The cobbled streets were narrow. Lined with brick buildings, with lots of pipes that produced occasional hiss of steam. The air tasted of coal and wet earth.

  Nick led them directly to the Townhall. It was a huge stone structure that looked extremely sturdy. But it was as gloomy as the grim faced people inside.

  Inside the Mayor's office, the air was thick with the smell of cheap tobacco and expensive wax. Mayor Glaiver was a man with broad shoulders and a perpetually worried frown.

  "Nick! Thank the stars." The Mayor greeted in a relieved tone. Then he looked at Jack and Reina with a forced smile. "Mr. Night! Mrs. Night! Unfortunately, we meet in another grim business."

  "How is it going, Father?" Nick quickly asked.

  "Mayor Glaiver!" Jack and Reina greeted him.

  Jack scanned the room. Standing next to the mayor was a tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair. Sir Garath Shellarrow. He nodded grimly to Jack, which he replied with the same gesture.

  But it was the man leaning against the fireplace who caught Jack's eyes.

  "Olward?" Jack asked.

  The old Primal Sorcerer, Olward Overgale, looked at him with his grumpy scowl. He was thin, looking more like a dried-up branch than a warrior. But Jack knew better. The man was a former mercenary. An extremely tough combatant. They fought together against the invasion of cockroach men some time ago. Along with Nick Glaiver and the uncle-niece pair... Amaranth White and Lucca Rowmore.

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  "Jack Night." Olward grunted. "Should have guessed meeting you wouldn't be in a happy occasion."

  "I thought you were retired." Jack said bluntly.

  "I want to." The old man replied grumpily. "But those creepy dolls forced me to work again."

  Sir Shellarrow cleared his throat. He introduced the other three people in the room. "Mr. Night. These are our transcendent personnel that had helped us so far in this case. You know Mr. Olward Overgale already. The others are Father Greythorn, Lady Orlenna Luther, and Mr. Edgard Spear."

  Jack took note of them.

  Father Greythorn was a short man in the white and grey robes of the Church of Redemption. He was thin and grim faced, but looked quite reliable.

  Lady Orlenna Luther... Jack knew she was the Vice-Leader of the Town Watch. Nick had informed him on the way. She was a Primal Sorceress with telekinesis power. A sharp-featured woman who didn't take any nonsense.

  Finally, there was Mr. Edgard Spear. An Eldritch Knight and the Town Watch Leader. He was tall and seemed tough. But he looked like he hadn't slept since the puppets first appeared.

  Jack nodded to them in acknowledgement and started the 'business' right away. "Let’s get to the point." He said. "The victims. It is said that they're specific. How specific?"

  The Mayor immediately answered. "All girls. Teenagers. Average height. Blonde hair, blue eyes, thin lips."

  Reina's eyes narrowed. "A type? The puppet is looking for a specific woman to kill?"

  "The puppets." Sir Shellarrow interrupted. "There are four. A family set of puppets. A father, a mother, and two children... a boy and a girl. Made of wood and cloth."

  He paused for a few seconds before continuing. "They aren't particularly strong individually. And they don't use magic. They just... hunt and kill, using their sharpened wooden limbs like blades. I’ve smashed them into kindling three times now."

  Father Greythorn chimed in. "However, each time, at the stroke of midnight, they reappear randomly in our town. Fully repaired. Starting their damned hunt again."

  "A midnight reset." Jack muttered. "Classic mystic system mechanics."

  "It's a race." Mr. Spear grimly added. "Every night, we have to find them before they find a woman who fits the description. If we're slow, someone dies. If we destroy them, we buy twenty-four hours of peace. But the town is large. And there are many girls who fit that profile."

  "The worse thing is their ability to slip into a building." Lady Orlenna gritted her teeth in annoyance. "The puppets are just like rats. They could pass through small holes very easily."

  "So, what's the plan?" Jack asked.

  Mayor Glaiver pointed at the map on the table. "We need to find and stop them before they assault another victim."

  Jack looked at the map. "Nine zones. You want us to spread out?"

  "Exactly." The Mayor said. "The three students will stay together in the central zone. They aren't ready for solo combat. The rest of us will take the surrounding eight zones. If you see them, fire your signal flare. We converge and destroy them all."

  Jack narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the plan on destroying them. Destroying them was just a temporary fix. "Understood. Give me the northern zone then."

  Before the others said anything, Jack continued. "But, I don't like this destroy all the puppets plan. If one of these puppets can be restrained instead of destroyed, I might have a way to use it to find the source."

  "Really?" The Mayor's eyes lit up on that. "Great! Let's do that then. Destroy three of them and try to capture the last one."

  The others also brightened up to hear that. Hunting the puppets every night wouldn't be their choice if they had a different way to solve the problem.

  Reina stepped up. "I'll take the eastern zone then."

  The rest also picked the zone they would be responsible for. The Mayor handed out the signal flares. They were heavy, spring-loaded tubes. Ones that fired a burst of alchemical light into the sky.

  ...

  Night fell over Mirebarrow like a heavy shroud. The streetlamps were dim. Flickering with inconsistent gas pressure. Jack stood on a rooftop in the northern zone. His black trenchcoat fluttered in the strong cold wind.

  Rune hovered near his ear. Her body glowed a steady, watchful blue.

  "Keep your sensors sharp, Rune." Jack muttered. "I want to know the moment the air feels 'off'. We'd better find those puppets before any stupid tragedy happens."

  Rune pulsed green as a response.

  Minutes passed. The silence of the town was unnatural. No dogs barked. No cats fought in the alleys. The residents were barricaded behind locked doors. Praying to whatever gods they favored.

  Just a few minutes after midnight, a red streak of light shot into the sky. It was from the north-western zone.

  "Olward's sector." Jack noted.

  He didn't hesitate. He reached into his [Spatial Bag] and pulled out his hoverboard. A sleek, steamrune-powered flying board. He hopped on. The runic engines hummed with a low-frequency growl as he zoomed toward the direction of the flare.

  He flew low over the rooftops. The wind was whipping past his face. As he came close to the location, he heard the sounds of combat. Cracking wood. Booming crash. And a roar that sounded like a beast.

  Jack halted his hoverboard slightly above the final roof and looked down. It was a wide cobblestone intersection flanked by warehouses. A battle happened there. A chaotic mess of muscles and splintering wood.

  Olward Overgale was no longer a thin old man. He had channeled his supernatural power. His body swelled into a hulking, muscular barbarian. His shirt had been shredded. Revealing rough skin covered in glowing blue tattoos. He swung his massive fists. Smashing it into a wooden figure that looked like a caricature of a man in a waistcoat.

  The 'father' puppet was tossed across the street. Its wooden head was twisted 180 degrees. But it immediately scrambled back to its feet with jerky, unnatural movements.

  Three other puppets were circling Olward. The 'mother' puppet, wearing a fancy floral dress, moved with a terrifying, fluid grace. Her fingers ended in sharpened wooden spikes.

  The two 'children' puppets were smaller. And faster. They moved like blurs. Darting around and between Olward's legs. Trying to ham-string him with their blade-shaped hands.

  Olward roared. Swinging his arms in a wide arc. But the puppets were quite faster than him. Although they moved unnaturally like they were being pulled by invisible strings. Manipulated by a non-existent master of puppeteering.

  "Need a hand, old man?" Jack shouted.

  He didn't wait for an answer. He dived off the hoverboard. His steamrune shotgun was already in his hand. While mid-air, he pulled the trigger.

  BOOM!