Chapter Fifty: "That's all. Don't talk to me anymore."
At the moment the grand illusion was completed, all the spectators of the Moonshadow Circus erupted into cheers and applause, casting spells that conjured fireworks, rainbows, and bouquets of flowers. In the blink of an eye, the sky inside the magician’s box was covered, making it impossible to see anything within. Simultaneously, in another of Harold’s spells, the same scene appeared over Blackhorn Alley.
For a time, both inside and outside the box seemed as lively as a festival, bustling with excitement. Yet those wizards in Blackhorn Alley who truly knew Harold’s reputation gazed at the sudden fireworks overhead with trembling fear—the terrifying magician had arrived, though no one could say exactly when! Who was he targeting? It was impossible to decide whether to celebrate or worry about what was to come.
On the one hand, there was cause for celebration: Magician Harold should be able to deal with that cursed serial murderer. On the other hand, unfortunately, Blackhorn Alley now had another madman. Worse yet, wherever Harold went, Ministry of Magic agents would surely swarm in.
“Bravo, bravo, magnificent! Splendid!” applause rang out all around. Harold couldn’t help but break into a triumphant smile. Indeed, how could the circus performance not be spectacular?
Dizziness washed over Harold, beads of cold sweat forming on his brow. He knew this was the exhaustion that followed magical depletion—the power of that damned Faceless One was nearly inexhaustible! When he used magic, the cost was so low it defied understanding, while Harold’s own crystal array was nearly drained.
“Marvelous, truly marvelous! I’ve never seen anything so delightful. This is immensely satisfying!” The day was indeed full of entertainment, and Harold felt quite content—the Faceless One was intriguing, and soon he’d dress him up properly—along with that little fox.
A handkerchief was offered, and Harold wiped his forehead, replying humbly, “Thank you.”
Suddenly, Harold turned around as if he’d seen a ghost! Right beside him, eagerly applauding, was the Faceless One himself. He wore a scarecrow’s tailcoat and a tall hat, leaning over the magician’s box, peering inside, his face nearly pressed to Harold’s side.
Cherry Bell’s almond-shaped eyes widened—when had that fellow gotten out? She’d seen him transformed into a prison cell just moments ago!
“Remarkable, Harold, I couldn’t help but join in. This grand illusion is indeed fascinating. Experiencing it firsthand is a rare treat—there are very few spells that can affect me anymore.”
Harold suddenly collapsed to the ground, pointing a trembling finger at the Faceless One. “You—you—you—”
“Oh, Mr. Harold, you truly are an artist. You were so absorbed, you didn’t notice,” said the Faceless One, removing his tall hat and bowing slightly. “Actually, I’ve been standing beside you all along. Later, I couldn’t resist participating. I meant to linger in this entertaining circus, but your magical dolls seemed ready to dress me as a clown. I didn’t want to damage them, so I came out.”
If someone had claimed earlier that they “didn’t want to harm Harold’s magical dolls,” Cherry Bell would have spat in their face, stomped on them with her high heels, and called them a braggart. After all, just now, of the thirty magical dolls, a single one had easily subdued her—her magic had no effect on them whatsoever!
Cherry Bell reckoned that it would take both herself and Osycris to handle one of those dolls—together, they might just manage it.
If the Faceless One claimed he didn’t want to break them, Cherry Bell believed he might actually be telling the truth. Perhaps, in his eyes, these were simply toys...
This “duel,” to him, might have been nothing more than a game...
Cherry Bell could hardly imagine—it was said that among Ministry agents, many hid extraordinary power, but she hadn’t expected even Harold to be powerless against this agent—surely he could claim a seat among the legendary JQK.
So far, of all the people Cherry Bell had heard of, only the Painter had truly defeated the Magician—the Painter’s abilities countered those of the Magician, leaving him no escape. Only the Lantern Death God, Bolszt, could kill the Magician in a single stroke—but the Death God could never catch him.
Who was stronger: the Painter, Bolszt, or the Faceless One? Cherry Bell didn’t know. But even so, it was enough—if this Faceless One really was the boss behind her, then she could walk freely through Blackhorn Alley from now on.
Cherry Bell’s dewy almond eyes began to turn slyly. Recently, several agents had come to Blackhorn Alley. As a member of the Fox Clan, which had close ties to the Ministry, Cherry Bell’s aunt was a high-ranking official. The Red Fox Den often served as the Ministry’s eyes and ears.
Thus, Cherry Bell was acquainted with the leader of these agents, Kevin—they were said to be here for Harold.
Rumors had long circulated that the Faceless One was a Ministry agent. From the start, Cherry Bell suspected the Faceless One was a secret role played by the agents, so she’d used this to intimidate others, creating rumors and extorting several properties coveted by the Red Fox Den.
She hadn’t expected the Faceless One to stir up such trouble in Blackhorn Alley, landing her in hot water. Nor had she imagined the Faceless One would truly be connected to her!
Perhaps the Faceless One really was played by the agents! He’d been protecting her in secret all along!
But...were Kevin and his group truly the Faceless One? Not long ago, they’d claimed the Faceless One was Harold’s puppet, and Harold the true culprit!
It seemed this was a deliberate rumor—the simple little ploy had worked! Harold had indeed been lured out!
She’d heard their mission was mainly to deal with Harold, and upon learning this, Cherry Bell had been dismayed—these foolish agents were arrogant, but had never witnessed the real world, and knew nothing of Harold’s terrifying power...
At the time, Cherry Bell suspected they held a trump card. Now it all seemed to make sense—a senior Ministry wizard must be hiding among the agents! He had assumed the role of an agent and played the Faceless One all along! Thus, they came with confidence!
She didn’t know which hidden master of the Ministry the Faceless One was, but since he risked everything to save her, he must be a friend or elder of her aunt!
At this thought, Cherry Bell’s charming face flushed, and her gaze toward the Faceless One became tender and alluring—her aunt was always scheming to marry her off to some elderly man, or to Kevin, the scion of nobility. Kevin was attentive, though not quite diligent enough, so Cherry Bell had planned to play him along and test his character.
And perhaps see if someone wealthier might appear...
But now, Kevin seemed quite appealing after all...
Why didn’t you say so sooner? You’re so powerful, yet shy around me, secretly protecting me all this time...
But this Faceless One—from his bearing, he seemed mature, yet his build was handsome and robust, even taller and stronger than Kevin—reminding her of Osycris’s kept young student!
She didn’t know which agent played him—perhaps not Kevin? Perhaps it was one of the powerful old wizards from the Ministry...but if he really looked like that young man, being his second wife wouldn’t be so bad...
As Cherry Bell was secretly pondering all this, she overheard a conversation that startled her so much she nearly jumped. She wanted to shout, but the innermost rose kept her silent, leaving her only able to continue jumping about.
The Faceless One produced a pair of magical shackles from his coat—the same ones the scarecrow had worn.
Seeing the shackles, Harold’s jaw dropped—he knew a hundred ways to open such magical prison restraints, but these were made of sea dragon stone. He had never seen anyone break them with their bare hands!
No—there was one—a youth who’d killed the Red Dragon Duke, Stog! That boy had been Harold’s prison mate, and he could easily snap them apart.
What stunned Harold even more was that the shackles could not be enchanted, yet the Faceless One used a bizarre spell to shatter them into pieces. When the fragments reformed, not only were the shackles as good as new, but they appeared mysteriously in Harold’s hands.
“Whatever happens, I’ve lost,” Harold said dejectedly, stretching out his hands in surrender, resigned to his fate. “Take me away—but please, let me see my dolls one last time.”
“All right,” the Faceless One nodded.
At that moment, Harold’s eyes widened in astonishment.
This fool—he actually agreed!
A surge of joy rose in Harold’s heart.
He glared fiercely at Cherry Bell, who was hopping frantically in her little cage as a miniature Barbie doll. Then he leaned over the magician’s box, gazing at it with deep longing.
Next, the portly magician wriggled inside with surprising agility, leaving behind only a peal of wild laughter: “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Cherry Bell rolled her eyes, nearly fainting.
It was over, all was over! This Faceless One was truly an idiot.
She’d been leaping so energetically that even the little rabbits on her chest were about to fly off, and he didn’t even look at her!
Was he stupid? He just kept laughing at the box, still clapping? Did he foolishly think Harold would play with him again? That Harold would return?
—Wait, right! She knew, she knew where he was going!
The magician must be headed to the port! Idiot! Look at me! (Jump, jump, jump) Look at me!
“So fascinating, what is this magic called?” the Faceless One asked, applauding as he looked at Cherry Bell. Then, through his mind-reading, he gleaned the answer: “Oh? Escape Room? That name suits it well.”
With that, the Faceless One set his tall hat on the ground, and a fat man shot out like a rabbit—just like a U-shaped bottle! The rabbit entered one end and, by inertia, flew out the other.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha, that fool...” Harold landed on the ground laughing. “Don’t worry, Faceless One. When I’ve perfected my new magic, I’ll return...”
Harold’s words suddenly stopped. He looked up in confusion, seeing Cherry Bell in her cage staring back at him, dumbfounded.
The two locked eyes for a long moment; the Faceless One applauded.
“Any more amusing new magic?”
“No,” Harold replied.