Chapter 473: End

Cheng Shuili stood with arms crossed, the Night Hunt pestle planted on the ground, she like the harshest spectator, coldly watching this performance of only destruction.

The Gray Puppets silently and efficiently tore down the carved railings, toppled the heavy velvet seats, snapped the eerie wall-mounted candelabras, threw them emotionlessly to the floor, and stomped them flat.

Qin Wen specifically targeted the most ornate, artistic parts, even jumping onto the stage edge and, with the tip of that pallid limb, fiercely slashing the high-hanging curtain tops, causing them to tumble down like beheaded giants, raising clouds of dust.

"Art? Eternity?" Cheng Shuili's voice cut through the din of destruction, clear and icy, "Look, your so‑called eternity is how fragile."

"Stop! I order you to stop!" the Puppeteer struggled wildly, the rope biting deep into the junction of its pallid limbs and torso, emitting a grating screech, but the stabilizing system of the safety rope and Gray Puppets held firm.

Cheng Shuili didn't even glance at it, leaning on the Night Hunt, she muttered to herself: "Without that skin, they wouldn't care about you at all."

"Face reality—your boss is now me."

"Rushing won't help; you can't get down at all."

The Puppeteer's white‑crowned head twisted into a shapeless mass: "You've destroyed everything… you've destroyed my life's work!"

"Life's work?" Cheng Shuili finally turned to stare at it, eyes blazing, she demanded: "A life's work brewed from players' fear and death? What about the lifeblood of those you judged, toyed with, and turned into mere stage décor?"

Her words seemed to flip a switch.

The Puppeteer jerked rigid, the flowing faces on its white crown froze instantaneously, then, after a moment, surged violently like boiling porridge. Countless garbled wails, sobs, and curses faintly emanated from within, as if countless imprisoned souls were struggling at once.

Cheng Shuili realized this instance was about to end.

What she had seen on the insight page finally manifested!

"No… no… they… they volunteered! They need a stage! They need to be seen!"

The Puppeteer's voice began to fray, mixing many tones—sometimes sharp, sometimes hoarse, sometimes like many people muttering at once.

"I gave them roles! I gave them meaning! In this eternal drama!"

"Just an eternal prison." Cheng Shuili cut her off mercilessly: "You locked them in your play, turned them into your collected faces, into your décor's acting. Now this prison will collapse."

As if to confirm her words, an ominous crack rang out from above.

A load‑bearing pillar adorned with intricate carvings finally showed a massive crack under the relentless blows of several Gray Puppets, debris and dust pouring down like a waterfall.

The theater began to shake.

The stained glass on the dome depicting a twisted heaven shattered with a crash, shards raining down, reflecting a final glint of eerie light in the Blood Ring's lingering dark‑red glow before vanishing into darkness and dust.

"No!" the Puppeteer's shriek was piercing, the white mass swelling violently, as if about to explode.

All its joints twitched spasmodically, straining against the ropes, to no avail.

"Stop! I can give you what you want! Rewards! Clearance! Even… even the deepest secret hidden in this instance! Stop!"

Qin Wen's motion paused, she turned to look at Cheng Shuili.

Cheng Shuili's expression showed no wavering.

She didn't even glance at Qin Wen, merely gazing up at the Puppeteer and slowly shaking her head.

"Too late." she said, "From the moment you chose to enact your art with fear and manipulation, from treating yourself and all existence as controllable puppets, this ending was already written. We're not here to negotiate."

She raised her hand, pointing to the wobbling load‑bearing pillar and the further crumbling dome structure.

"We're here for the curtain call."

As her words fell, the heaviest crack rang out!

The pivotal load‑bearing pillar finally snapped cleanly, its upper half plummeting with terrifying weight and speed, slamming hard into the rear of the stage!

Boom—

The entire stage shuddered violently, floorboards buckling, dust and chunks shooting skyward.

The Blood Ring's light flickered wildly a few times, then faded utterly like dying embers.

Darkness deepened, only the sounds of destruction and the building's collapse growing louder, like the death‑rattle of a great beast.

"No… this shouldn't be… my theater… my play…"

The Puppeteer's voice grew feeble and chaotic, the white faces on its crown blurring and slowly fading, as if whatever sustained its existence were disintegrating with the theater's collapse.

"I am the Puppeteer… I control everything… I…"

Its voice dwindled to nothing, finally drowned out by the crash of another beam falling.

Cheng Shuili no longer looked at it; Qin Wen had somehow returned to her side, gazing at her with intense eyes.

"Something up?"

"Yes!" Qin Wen nodded, eyes blazing astonishingly, utterly unlike someone just escaped a deadly battle, "Boss, how did you know this would settle the Puppeteer? How did you devise this method? And most importantly… does Black Feather still recruit?"

She rubbed her hands, face full of admiration, her gaze flicking to the collapsing theater around her, as if pondering what else of value……

…or what else could be torn apart.

Cheng Shuili's brow tightened slightly, a hint of helplessness at Qin Wen's rapid‑fire questions.

She brushed off the first two questions outright; the Abyssal Ring's insight page had three full panels, and even if Cheng Shuili could speed‑read ten lines at a glance, just finishing it would take ages.

This instance, she truly owed it to the Abyssal Ring and her quick wit.

Cheng Shuili didn't rush to answer; while the theater hadn't fully collapsed, she stepped forward, bent, and picked up the coil of rope that had returned to its original length on the ground.

Qin Wen's gaze followed her closely, the picture of a eager fangirl.

When Cheng Shuili glanced back, she caught that expression, and an involuntary sense of dissonance welled up inside her.

Cheng Shuili simply couldn't reconcile the aloof Qin Wen she'd first met with this fangirl version.

"You——" Cheng Shuili had the words on her tongue, then swallowed them back.

She shook her head, stowing the safety rope into the Abyssal Ring, "Let's get out of here first."

No sooner had she spoken than the theater's collapse seemed to reach a tipping point.

Cheng Shuili's foot found nothing beneath it, a cold sensation of weightlessness rising from below.