The "Puppeteer" with the air of a butcher, though he had severely jolted Lin Luo’s entire worldview and left him anything but composed, still managed to elicit a pained yet generous payment as he approached with a practiced, professional smile, prompting Lin Luo to fish a single silver coin from his increasingly dry pockets.

If it were in the past, Lin Luo wouldn't have blinked an eye even if he were tossing out tons of gold bricks, let alone a single silver coin. But now, lacking any marketable skill and any physical strength—a man who had to gauge the potential combat effectiveness of a mugger just to ensure his own survival—he relied solely on his passable eloquence. As a wandering minstrel, he earned meager coin for travel and sustenance from idle tea drinkers and bystanders. He couldn't even afford slightly better clothing, making this silver coin extraordinarily precious—it was nearly a week's worth of food, and his entire remaining fortune.

Yet, even so, he handed the coin to this "Mr. Butcher." Beyond the fact that the man had put on a uniquely engaging puppet show that Lin Luo felt was worth the price, Lin Luo had other considerations in mind.

And so, when "Mr. Butcher" made his rounds among the audience, this unique puppet performance finally concluded. It was near dusk, the time when the audience finished watching and prepared for dinner, so they dispersed quickly, each heading home. "Mr. Butcher," meanwhile, began hauling out several large crates, carefully placing the puppets inside one by one; clearly, he was packing up to go home as well.

"Good evening, sir," Lin Luo stepped forward and greeted him.

It was at this moment that the value of that single silver coin became apparent.

One must understand that performances like this street act didn't bring in much money. It wasn't like the established theaters where wealthy patrons flocked, often throwing money around simply to impress a girl or show off. While many people watched street performers, the majority were content to watch for free. Only a small fraction would offer a token of appreciation for the artist's hard work, and even then, it was usually just a few copper pieces. After all, how many truly wealthy people bothered watching street acrobatics?

Someone like Lin Luo, who tipped a full silver coin right away, was essentially a major benefactor. For this "Mr. Butcher," encountering such a patron even once every few months was exceptional luck.

Naturally, "Mr. Butcher" paid close attention to such a generous customer.

Therefore, when he turned around and saw Lin Luo, he recognized him instantly. A smile spread across his face as he rubbed his hands together. "My esteemed guest, may I ask what you require?"

Lin Luo smiled faintly. "No need for such formalities. I've already given you all the money I have. No matter how polite you become, I can't give you any more."

"Mr. Butcher" paused, then laughed somewhat awkwardly. It was only then that he noticed Lin Luo’s attire was that of an ordinary commoner, certainly not a man of means. Looking at the dust and weariness etched on Lin Luo's face, his life experience suggested he was likely someone nomadic and without a fixed abode.

Had "Mr. Butcher" been a shrewd opportunist, he might not have offered Lin Luo such a pleasant smile now. However, being a man constantly striving to make a living, he understood how extraordinary it was for someone in Lin Luo's condition to willingly part with a silver coin. Judging by Lin Luo's statement that he had given all his money, the man didn't doubt its truthfulness based on his own experience.

So, even though Lin Luo’s words had a sharp, pointed quality, "Mr. Butcher" did not drop his demeanor. His smile actually gained a measure of sincerity. He changed his address: "Young friend, don't joke with me. You've already given me so much; how could I possibly ask for more? Tell me directly what you need; don't be so formal."

Lin Luo nodded, dropping any pretense of false courtesy. He pointed toward the puppets in the nearby crate. "Then I won't stand on ceremony. I just wanted to ask about these puppets. I noticed they move without any visible human control; it's as if they possess a life of their own, which I found very strange... Of course, if this is proprietary information, it’s fine if you don't share."

"Hahaha, so that's what it is. I thought it was some major issue," the middle-aged proprietor burst into laughter. "It seems, young friend, this is your first time watching a puppet show."

"It truly is my first time, but how did you know?"

"Because someone who has seen it before wouldn't ask a question like that."

"How so?"

The middle-aged proprietor first asked, "You think these puppets have a life of their own because you see no one manipulating them, correct?" Upon Lin Luo nodding, he explained with a smile, "Actually, it's not that I don't control them; it's that I’ve pre-controlled everything in advance—their dialogue, their movements, and the emotional expressions they display during the performance. All their actions are set before the show even begins, which is why I don't need to control them while they perform."

"Look, it's this," as he spoke, he picked up a small, adorably dressed girl puppet and gently lifted her outer tunic, turning her back to Lin Luo.

Only then did Lin Luo notice that although hidden by the clothing, there was a small winding key on the puppet’s back. He suddenly grasped the concept... According to the middle-aged man, he had wound the mechanism beforehand, which was what imparted the power for the puppets to move. Those unaware of the mechanics would instinctively believe the puppets possessed life.

But...

"Even so, the performance just now lasted well over an hour. How could so much complex scripting be achieved just by winding a key? Furthermore, the puppets’ expressions are almost identical to real people, as are their voices... If they were set up like mere tools, even if they could speak, they could only have one voice timbre at most. Yet, these puppets exhibit different tones depending on their emotion. How is that accomplished?" Lin Luo pressed.

The middle-aged man offered a mysterious smile. "That, my young friend, involves trade secrets."

"Ah!" Lin Luo was momentarily stunned. Despite his intense curiosity, it involved the man's trade secrets, so he couldn't press further. Though disappointed, he accepted the limitation.

However, just as he was about to drop the subject, the middle-aged proprietor said, "I can see you have a great interest in these puppets, perhaps you are fond of them too. If that's the case, I don't mind telling you a bit."

"Is that truly permissible?" Lin Luo was overjoyed but also slightly concerned.

"It's fine. Consider it repayment for that single silver coin." After a pause, the middle-aged proprietor continued, "These puppets are actually connected to Alchemy. When creating them, the Puppeteer imbues them with a special kind of energy through alchemy... Since you are not an Alchemist, I won't explain precisely what that energy is. In short, through this energy, the puppets gain rich and varied expressions and vocal inflections, making them almost indistinguishable from living beings. Then, simply turning the key activates this energy, and they appear to be alive."

"I see," Lin Luo understood the basics at this point. Although his power had vanished and even his eyesight had deteriorated due to Luo Tianyi, his capacity for comprehension remained unchanged.

"However, this energy is ultimately finite. Once it's depleted, no matter how many times I wind the key, they won't move again; they will revert to being ordinary dolls." As he spoke, the middle-aged man sighed, gazing at the puppets in the crate with a flicker of sadness on his face.

Lin Luo immediately suggested, "If the energy runs out, can't you just re-imbue them, just like when you first created them?"

The middle-aged man shook his head with a wry smile. "Young friend, you are unaware. While that method can indeed extend the puppets' 'lifespan,' I... I don't know how."

"Eh?"

"These puppets were not made by me; they were my grandfather's," the middle-aged man said nostalgically. "My ancestors were a family of Alchemists, once quite prosperous, especially my grandfather, who was supremely skilled at crafting all sorts of puppets. His creations were almost identical to real people, truly breathtaking. But sadly, neither my father nor I inherited that talent from him. As the family fortunes declined, all I have left are these puppets. While I can make them move now by winding the key and make a living from it, no one knows when they will completely cease functioning. At that point... sigh."

Lin Luo assumed he was worried about losing his means of livelihood, so he said, "Forgive my bluntness, but even if they stop moving, given how lifelike they are, I believe wealthy collectors would pay a handsome price for them. You really don't need to be so despondent."

The middle-aged man’s eyes widened slightly, showing a hint of anger, but it quickly softened. He replied, "Young friend, you don't understand. I don't blame you for saying that, but to me, these puppets have been with me for over forty years, every single day. They are like my children... Though I may be utterly useless in other ways, my love for these children is the only thing I can be truly proud of. Even if I starve on the street one day, I would never sell my own children."

After speaking, the middle-aged man gently stroked the hair of the little girl puppet, his face filled with paternal affection.

Hearing his words, Lin Luo suddenly understood the source of his sadness. He wasn't worried about losing his income if the puppets became immobile; he was worried that the children he cherished would leave him.

This was a father's love for his children.

"I apologize," Lin Luo said with regret, understanding the sentiment as a father himself.

"It's nothing," the middle-aged man laughed openly, placing the puppet back into the crate. "Actually, the reason I came to Puppet City this time was to search for genuine Puppeteers, hoping to enlist their aid in extending these children's lives."

"Genuine... Puppeteers?"