Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 203 The House of Marionettes and the Immortal Doll

Not every marionette is without consciousness.

Some are just waiting for you to become the next one.

The air seemed to freeze in front of the jigsaw puzzle wall.

The five wooden plaques still lay quietly on the ground, a faint red light seeping from the cracks in the wood, like some kind of uneasy pulse beating.

The floor tiles underfoot seemed to resonate almost imperceptibly with this "heartbeat," producing a faint "tick-tock" sound, like a countdown from the abyss.

Si Ming slowly raised his head, his gaze passing through the crowd and landing on a certain person.

"Um, Wang... Yichen, right?"

The tone was languid, more like a roll call than a question.

Wang Yichen's heart tightened suddenly. He stood at the edge of the crowd, his fingers clasped together, as if he was trying his best to maintain a calm expression, but there was a crack in his eyes.

"This time, you tell me the answer."

Si Ming said casually, as if he were merely asking the waiter to recommend an appetizer.

The single stone stirred up a thousand waves; everyone turned their heads, and the atmosphere changed abruptly.

Wang Yichen stood there, stunned, seemingly unable to understand. He opened his mouth, then hesitated before speaking, "You... let me do it?"

“Haven’t you been living by relying on your ‘intuition’ all this time?” Si Ming revealed a slightly amused smile. “Now, use your ‘intuition’ to tell me how to arrange the puzzle pieces based on the clues obtained from the new wooden plaque that Selian got.”

The air had turned three degrees colder.

At that moment, Wang Yichen felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the back of his head. It was as if he was no longer the navigator who had won everyone's trust with his "memory," but rather... a gambler standing before the judge's bench.

His throat bobbed slightly, and he subconsciously took a half-step back: "I... I was just offering a suggestion... If I rashly attempt to solve the puzzle, the system didn't specify whether it would immediately result in death..."

He spoke cautiously, but his tone betrayed his underlying unease.

But what he didn't say was—

(I clearly remember... the puzzle order was correct. Why is it wrong this time?)

(Why doesn't my memory of the 'past' work here?)
(Am I... going to die again?)

Si Ming took a step closer, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper between him and Wang Yichen:

"Are you planning to wait for me to make mistakes for you before deciding whether or not to take over?"

"Or are you betting that I will also fail?"

Wang Yichen didn't answer. Because he suddenly realized that he was even starting to doubt himself.

“50%.” Si Ming suddenly raised his right hand, his index finger slightly raised. “That’s enough for me.”

To everyone's astonishment, he raised his hand and flipped his wrist, and a life-patterned star map suddenly appeared on the back of his palm, with a silver-blue star track spreading like a tide.

The first star is lit.

The second star is burning.

Like a falling meteor, two fateful stars exploded in the star chart, their azure and crimson gold colors intertwining, instantly enveloping him in a ghostly light.

"Fate's favor, activated."

The voice he uttered was calm to the point of being ruthless, yet it carried an indescribable air of composure and arrogance.

Vera's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she asked in a low voice, "Are you sure this price is worth it?"

Instead of answering directly, Si Ming snapped his fingers as if wiping away a speck of dust from the air.

"Twenty minutes is all it takes," he said calmly. "Just enough time for us to expose a dream."

The flames had not yet died down, but the aura was already oppressive.

Everyone involuntarily took a step back, unsure whether it was out of fear of the flames of destiny dancing on the star chart or the aura of the God of Gamblers descending to earth.

For the first time, Wang Yichen couldn't use his habitual "smile" to hide the cracks in his heart.

Because he knew—

In this round, it was his turn to be bet.

At this moment, the color drained from Wang Yichen's face as if the hand of fate had completely ripped it away.

His throat bobbed, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but ultimately couldn't utter the words, "I don't know."

After a few seconds of silence, he uttered a sentence that sounded almost like a dream:
"Try it... 'EAFS-T' starts moving from the plank in area R4, C13."

This is another arrangement he "remembers"—or perhaps, a fragment from one of his previous reincarnations before his death.

But he knew this answer wasn't reliable; it carried an inexplicable, lingering scent of old blood. Yet he gambled that Si Ming wouldn't press him further.

Si Ming glanced at him, said nothing, and simply nodded slightly, as if he had truly accepted the "proposal".

He walked towards the jigsaw puzzle wall, bending down to pick up the cracked wooden plaques embedded in the ground, and calmly reassembled them in a new order.

E, A, F, S, T.

With each card that is embedded, a star on his destiny chart pulses like a fiery vein, as if recording every "sounding point" of the wheel of fate—a gamble wagered by the soul.

The last "T" fell into the groove with a sound—

"Click."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like the signal that a crack was quietly opening.

The entire jigsaw puzzle wall seemed to finally "awaken," with a low, crisp sound like a chain breaking coming from inside, as if someone was slowly turning a mechanism that had been dormant for many years.

Red lines—seeping from the edges of the puzzle pieces, like blood flowing through veins—spread rapidly, outlining a circular totem on the stone wall's surface. Faint runes flickered within the mark, seemingly some kind of summoning seal.

"It reacted!" Rudolf suddenly looked up and whispered, his voice filled with barely suppressed surprise and tension.

The jigsaw puzzle wall slowly sank, like a curtain falling, and behind it—

It is a building.

An old, dark mansion, seemingly existing in a dream yet not belonging to reality, as if torn out from a slice of the bottom layer of a certain century.

It was covered in decaying vines and rust, with a soaring porch and a dilapidated Gothic vault that resembled the skull of a dead god.

The old clock tower is dilapidated and crooked, its hands stopped at a mark that no longer moves, as if time itself has long since given up the struggle here.

But what's even more chilling is what's in front of its door—

Two rows of "welcoming people" stood neatly in place.

They are not human.

It was a row of dolls.

Standing about 1.6 meters tall, dressed in children's attire for aristocratic banquets, doll dresses, and old-fashioned baby gowns...

Some faces have been corroded and peeled away, leaving only mottled porcelain shells; others have blank heads, as if waiting for "someone's" face to be embedded in them;

Others were smiling, with black lines sewn onto the corners of their mouths, making it seem as if their mouths might split open to their ears at any moment.

They all bowed their heads, motionless, as if waiting for some bloody feast.

There was no wind, yet the hems of their clothes swayed slightly.

Suddenly, a series of "click-clack" gear sounds rang out.

The Fat Puppet—that familiar, repulsive guide—had somehow appeared in the middle of the porch. He was still wearing that moldy chef's hat, his smile stretching to his ears.

He slowly opened the sound box embedded in his belly, the tone as hoarse and hollow as a nursery rhyme:
"The Duke of the Marionette... warmly welcomes you all."

The words fell.

—The gates of that old mansion slowly opened in the still air.

A wisp of dark mist surged out from inside the door like a tide, carrying with it the sweet scent of rotten syrup and the pungent smell of doll dust.

It was a kind of "sweetness" that sent shivers down one's spine, as if some kind of corrupt life was quietly awakening within one's body.

Wang Yichen took a step back, his body trembling uncontrollably; Eileen immediately squatted down and covered her mouth, while Fujimiya Sumi's face turned deathly pale, and she almost fainted.

Si Ming simply narrowed his eyes.

He whispered something:
"Welcome to the Marionette's Theater."

"It seems the main character is finally ready to make his appearance."

The jigsaw puzzle wall has sunk into the ground, the dust has not yet settled, and silence seems to stretch an invisible taut line in the air.

And the iron gate in front of them, slowly opening—like a black eyeball, finally opened its gaze from its dreams.

Zhuang Yege stopped and fixed her gaze on the two rows of unnatural "welcomeers".

They stood silently in front of the mansion, their bodies thin and stiff, dressed in children's dresses or doll dresses, their heads bowed to their necks, as if they were praying.

He slowly uttered a sentence, his voice carrying a rare air of solemnity:
"They...are not decorations."

He raised his finger, pointing at the puppets, his gaze sharp as a blade.

"These are family members."

"The Forbidden Card: The Materialized Structure of Familia." He spoke each word slowly and deliberately, his words stirring ripples in the hearts of everyone present.

Si Ming raised an eyebrow, his tone light and teasing:
"Oh? Forbidden Cards... That sounds ominous."

Vera walked slowly forward, her gaze falling on the lights of the twisted mansion, the light reflecting a coldness in her eyes.

"You've only been a mystery maker for a short time... haven't you?"

Si Ming smiled and flicked the dust off his cuff with his finger: "Indeed, I'm actually a complete newbie."

She smiled too, a calm smile that carried a clear hint of disbelief: "Forbidden Cards are 'out-of-control things' born from certain extremists in the Fate system who exploit loopholes in the rules to fuse with mysterious terms."

"'Out of control' means that they have long since escaped the absolute control of the Mystic Master."

Her gaze shifted slightly, landing on the red-haired girl squatting to the side, burping contentedly.

"For example... this Miss Celian."

"High-level life form, possessing complete rationality and personality, not restricted by summons, able to move freely in other people's territories, and even—having an independent will to eat?"

She slowly turned her head and looked at Si Ming:

"It doesn't look like an ordinary card at all."

Si Ming scratched his head: "I... I just signed a contract, I didn't ask about the specific details." His tone was lazy, as if he were talking about a rental contract that he hadn't read carefully.

Vera remained silent, only slightly curving her lips, but her eyes held an indescribable curiosity.

Zhuang Yege spoke again, his tone low:

"Among the forbidden cards, the 'family members' are the lowest rank, but the most stable."

"They often exist within a specific field, in other words—"

He turned his head and looked at the eerie ancient castle in front of him:
"This entire building is a family domain."

"And we are being invited—into its dreamlike home ground."

Hearing this, Fujimiya Sumi couldn't help but ask in a low voice, almost as if the sound was being squeezed out of her throat:

"So...do we have to go in now?"

“Absolutely.” Rudolf exhaled slowly, gazing at the door that was still slowly opening, as if some giant beast was slowly opening its cavity.

"The puzzle has been solved, which means the game has only just begun."

A sweet, fishy smell filled the air, like a corpse soaked in syrup, forgotten by time in an old toy box.

Eileen huddled up, arms crossed, her voice trembling:
"You...you really intend to go in?"

Zhuang Yege took a step forward, the hem of his robe brushing against the gravelly ground, like a spirit wandering through a cemetery.

"The less welcoming they are to us, the more it means there's an answer hidden inside."

Vera smiled slightly and followed her lightly, her blonde hair casting a pale white line under the lamplight.

Si Ming was the last to emerge, his tone languid:

"Of course, if you don't want to go in, you can stay and see if any clues will fall out after we're eaten."

Wang Yichen's lips twitched, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

"Aren't you three... afraid of dying?"

"Yes, I am afraid," Si Ming shrugged, his voice as soft as a whisk, "but I'm even more afraid of boredom."

The moment he stepped across the threshold, a ripple like black mist spread out from the side of the door, but it automatically dissipated an inch from his feet.

"This... can pass?" Duan Xingzhou's eyes widened.

Rudolf whispered, “They are of higher value—the field recognizes them as the ‘main course’.”

This sentence caused everyone's expression to change again. Then, they had no choice but to bite the bullet and follow suit one after another.

Like a group of small beasts that have strayed into the gods' dining table, they can only follow the shadow of the throne.

In the last shadow, the red-haired girl was lazily sniffing.

"Tsk... wood, cured meat, the smell of dirty human sweat... Master's taste is getting worse and worse."

“If you keep being picky, I’ll let you have a drink with the Duke of the Marionette,” Si Ming said without turning his head.

Selene curled her lip: "Hmph, I'm not afraid of any duke's family. I want to eat that peanut-filled puppet head over there. It looks so crunchy."

Vera stopped, turned her head slightly, and murmured:
“A contract? No… this is no longer an ordinary, mysterious constraint.”

She gazed at Si Ming's retreating figure, that casual yet unfathomable silhouette:

"To possess family members with emotions, judgments, hunger, and likes and dislikes, yet still maintain consensus and rationality... Lord Fate, your secret is deeper than the foundation of this city."

Si Ming, hands in his pockets, lazily replied:
"Compared to this city, I'm really quite ordinary."

In the distance, deep within the mansion, eerie lights slowly illuminated one after another.

Like spotlights before the curtain falls on a stage, finally illuminating a play destined to only live for a portion of the audience.

They thought they had entered a mansion.

But they didn't realize that they had also been strung up.

Suspended at the top of a stage,

They're waiting to see who will orchestrate their next move.

(End of this chapter)