Chapter 979: Was It Solved Like This?

She no longer paid attention to any gong or smile.

She gripped the happy stick tightly with her right hand, stepped back half a step, then lunged sharply at the penguin's belly.

The hammer's tip struck the black‑and‑white fur, sank in with a "Puff", and bounced out almost instantly.

The penguin let out a short, sharp scream, lifted both webbed feet at once, and fell backward.

Heimu wouldn't give it a chance to stand again; her left hand already pressed that gong, five fingers gripping the edge, and she forcibly tore the gong from the penguin's chest.

The metal piece emitted a sharp, twisted sound in her palm, like a sheet of crumpled tin foil.

"I'll make it never end!"

Heimu slammed the gong onto the ground, lifted her foot and kicked; the short boot pierced straight through the penguin's belly.

Cotton and shredded cloth burst out from the wound, with several glowing thin copper tubes and a ring of rune‑covered gears embedded inside.

She grabbed the penguin's two short wings with both hands and pulled hard to each side; the whole penguin split in two like a torn cotton doll, cracking apart at the middle.

The mechanical parts scattered on the ground, the copper tubes still sizzled with sparks, the dim red light flickered twice, then went out completely.

Heimu straightened her back and tossed the half of the penguin's head she held to the side.

She patted the cotton clinging to her skirt hem, a "finally satisfying" expression on her face.

"That solves it, then."

Heimu breathed a sigh and turned to look behind her.

Pa Duo froze mid‑air, maintaining the leaping pose, her mouth open wide enough to fit an egg.

A Bo Ni Ya was the Calmest of them, she tilted her head and said, "So brute force can also resolve the situation."

Heimu was about to say, "If I'd known it was this simple, I would have acted earlier," when the string of colored lights above her suddenly snapped off with a "Snap."

The entire main avenue fell into a thick, dense darkness, only the direction of the distant carousel still lit by a few faint blue lights.

Wind rushed in from ahead, swirling the cotton and gear fragments on the ground, producing a soft rustling sound.

Heimu stood still, her intuition telling her something was watching from the shadows.

A few seconds later, the light string snapped back on with a "Snap," the world brightened again, and the shredded penguin remains on the ground had vanished completely.

The gong was gone, the fragments were gone, not even a speck of cotton could be found.

The center of the main avenue was empty, as if the penguin had never existed.

"The items were taken away."

Ying's voice sounded from beside her; she had already sheathed her blade, her eyes scanning the ground then turning to Heimu, "There are no signs of any punishment either."

Heimu let out a "Hmm," and a hint of alertness mixed into the post‑outburst relief in her heart.

This place truly was uncanny; the Rule could be exploited, violence could also break the deadlock, but after breaking it the scene would be silently reset, like monsters refreshed in a game.

She looked up toward the front; the carousel turned slowly in the dim blue light, the small lamps under the canopy flickered, as if inviting them forward.

"Let's go, to meet over there."

Heimu brushed the gray‑white curls scattered across her forehead under her hat brim, stepped forward, exuding a stance that said, "If you dare cause trouble again, I'll tear you apart too."

Pa Duo swallowed, muttering softly, "Are we tourists or a demolition crew?" she said while hurrying after them, fearing to fall a half step behind.

Ying and A Bo Ni Ya exchanged glances; the former sighed helplessly, the latter lifted her skirt and followed at an unhurried pace.

Heimu led the three toward the carousel, and the colorful flags lining the avenue began to gently beat the poles in a steady rhythm.

Pa Duo clung to Ying's calf, her Tail low enough to almost sweep the floor tiles.

Ying remained silent, hand resting on the hilt, her pink Fox Ears tilted slightly forward, catching the tiny sounds hidden in the music.

"Miss, we think this place seems angry."

Pa Duo lowered her voice, "You just dismantled that fat penguin, and now the whole street is making strange cries."

Heimu gave no reply, because she truly heard a strange sound.

It sounded like countless plastic beads rolling in from all directions, and like someone rapidly scraping glass with fingernails.

The sound rose simultaneously from behind the streetlamp pole, behind the flags, and within the shadow of the popcorn kiosk.

Heimu was about to have Ying and A Bo Ni Ya draw closer when a strong gust suddenly struck from above.

It carried a pale white light, like an inverted hook reaching straight for the back of Heimu's neck.

Ying reacted instantly, her red‑black long blade "Swish!" out of its sheath, the cold light carving an arc in midair.

She hadn't even fully turned her head, yet the blade had already struck that thing.

A muffled "Puff" rang out, as if a blade had sliced through thick fabric; something was cleanly cut in half, dark liquid splashed out, a few drops landing on the slate tiles and instantly puffing up tiny white smoke.

Heimu finally saw that it was a circus clown‑shaped thing, dressed gaudily, its face porcelain‑white, black teardrops painted under its eyes, mouth stretched to the ears.

Its lower half still hung from the lamp post, its upper half having fallen to the ground, the two sections twitching wildly as if fried in hot oil.

Inside the split cavity there was no flesh, but clumps of yellowed cotton and continuously rotating metal joints.

Pa Duo leapt two steps back, her throat hoarse, "Waa! How did this thing come down from above!"

Ying gave no reply.

She crouched low, the blade tip hanging obliquely at her side, slowly sweeping around.

Right behind her, five identical white silhouettes suddenly materialized in the air.

Five clowns grinned, simultaneously flinging long colorful ribbons; the ribbons stretched straight in the air like five poisonous snakes coiling toward Ying's limbs and neck.

Heimu was about to step forward to help when she saw Ying's blade flash surge violently.

A whole sheet of sprayed cold‑colored light unfurled, like a red silk shimmering with frost suddenly spreading in the dark.

The five ribbons were cut at the same instant, fragments scattering, before they could hit the ground Ying had already surged forward, her blade slicing horizontally; a clown split at the waist, its upper body sliding down at an angle, still emitting a "giggling" laugh.

The laugh lasted only half a second before the back of the blade smashed the porcelain face.

Ying's left hand followed with a palm strike, sending the second clown flying; the thing crashed into a streetlamp pole, its skeleton shattering into a heap of parts.

"This doesn't look like an ordinary mechanical puppet."

A Bo Ni Ya whispered from behind, hugging her arms, "The parts with shadows are controlling them; the shadows connect from the ground to each puppet's feet."

Ying obviously also noticed.

She pulled back a half step, swung her long knife at her side, and the black liquid clinging to the blade flew out, drawing a few faint arcs.

The shadows on the ground were indeed still there, resembling pools of viscous black gel, clinging to the floor tiles and writhing, gathering again toward the few damaged puppets.

The few clowns that Ying had cut off were not completely destroyed; their joints "clack" and, astonishingly, they wobbled as if about to stand up again.

"Can't cut cleanly."

Ying said softly, her voice lacking agitation, only a calm judgment.

She tilted her head slightly, glanced at Heimu, as if waiting for a command.