The Soul-Harvesting Puppeteer - Chapter 66

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 66
Bang!
Han Eol had barely touched the enemy’s thigh with his bare hand, yet a deafening explosion erupted from the metal container lodged there.
This phenomenon occurred because of Han Eol’s terrifying speed.
Kinetic energy is proportional to the square of velocity.
If the speed was violent, then the kinetic energy corresponding to its square would be far beyond what any human body could endure. No matter how skilled the opponent—whether they had Awakened their Ability and cultivated a Soul Aura around their spirit—this was a force beyond bearing.
The enemy’s thigh erupted in a massive explosion, transforming into a spray of blood.
Their upper body was sent flying backward several dozen meters, crashing roughly against the sewers’ wall.
The explosion’s force was so violent that the wall where the enemy’s back struck spiderwebbed with deep cracks.
And yet the enemy did not die instantly—for two reasons.
First, it was partly because Han Eol had held back his strength out of consideration.
Second, Demon Energy had poured forth from the enemy’s Soul Aura, shielding their body.
Still, despite that protection, the lower half that had made direct contact with Han Eol’s palm shattered completely.
“Wh-what?”
The enemies panicked.
One of them hastily widened the distance from Han Eol and began gathering Lightning Strike between his clenched fists.
Crackle-crackle-crack!
A brilliant blue electrical charge condensed between his two palms.
‘Hmph.’
Han Eol extended his hand as if throwing a jab. His finger, moving at a speed beyond human perception, grazed the enemy’s temple.
Pop!
In that instant, the Lightning Strike Ability User’s head exploded.
Blood gushed like a fountain from the neck of the headless corpse. The body staggered backward a few steps before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
Next came the turn of the one who concealed a Short Dagger in his coat.
While the enemy hesitated, Han Eol moved like a bolt of lightning, gently pushing his palm against the man’s chest.
Naturally, the result was anything but gentle.
Squelch.
Though Han Eol had exercised restraint, his palm, driven forward at terrifying speed, crushed the enemy’s upper body like tofu before bursting clean through their back.
The lower half of the body toppled backward.
Above it, the upper torso with its gaping hole and the rounded head folded down into itself.
Gulp.
A swallowing sound came from behind Han Eol.
Han Eol turned his head slowly.
Then came a sound like hiccupping.
It was the Blonde Hair Stylist and the Chef with the Sashimi Knife who had made those noises.
Han Eol turned his head forward again and surveyed the ghastly scene he had created.
……
As he had felt before in the Shuiwai Garden, Han Eol had thought the sight of Demon Beast corpses would feel different from witnessing human remains.
But it was not so. Seeing the scattered flesh of humans strewn across the ground before him, Han Eol felt surprisingly little shock.
‘Is something wrong with me?’
Han Eol contemplated this seriously.
Unfortunately, he was not afforded the luxury of deep reflection.
His Red Team colleagues approached hesitantly from behind.
‘What am I doing?’
Han Eol snapped back to attention.
What had been his reason for intervening so abruptly just moments ago?
He had wanted to ask this enemy—the one who had cultivated a Soul Aura—something.
‘There’s no need to ask with words. I don’t even speak Chinese anyway.’
Instead, Han Eol possessed a far simpler solution.
A thought took form.
The moment Han Eol focused his will, the full-color hand within his mindscape seized the fragile soul of the surviving enemy—torso only—and ripped it free.
“Gasp.”
As the enemy’s soul was torn away, his eyes dimmed. His head lolled to the side.
To the others watching, it appeared he had simply succumbed to his grievous wounds and breathed his last.
Chapter 5
The spy’s soul, now held in the full-color hand, split into three parts.
First, the ‘Spirit’ separated and was absorbed by the full-color hand.
Of the remaining ‘Essence,’ the ‘Hun’ was drawn in and vanished without a trace.
It was much like a small raindrop falling into a boundless sea, becoming part of it.
Only the victim’s ‘Po’ remained, transmitting knowledge to Han Eol.
But the amount of knowledge he received was truly paltry.
A pittance—barely a thread’s worth, then nothing.
In truth, the various Demon Beasts from whom Han Eol had extracted souls in the past had never conveyed proper knowledge to him either.
Only creatures of the caliber of a mature Three-Eyed Eight-Tailed Beast or dragon-kind possessed a sufficiently cohesive “white” essence to manifest as a blemish across Han Eol’s palms and transmit knowledge through his body.
Demon Beasts more primitive than that were incapable of it.
And that same limitation applied to the Chinese spy Han Eol had killed just moments ago.
‘Damn. I killed him for nothing. Should’ve kept him alive and wrung the information out of him.’
Han Eol clicked his tongue in frustration.
Yet what he had gleaned was not entirely empty.
A fragment of the dead spy’s memories had remained with him.
‘Midland Beijing, then?’
Han Eol furrowed his brow.
‘So Beijing passes down some secret art of weaving Soul Aura around the spirit itself?’
This was the puzzle that now vexed him.
According to what Han Eol had separately learned, Yang Bing hailed not from Beijing but from Shanghai.
‘The old master from New York I met at Highland before, the female Ability User from Zurich, the swordsman from Tokyo—none of them had constructed Soul Aura around their spirits. And I’ve never seen such Ability Users in Shinseong Group either. So there must be a secret art transmitted only in Beijing, Shanghai, Chiang Mai, and places like that? I’ll have to dig deeper in that direction.’
Han Eol crossed his arms and drummed his chin with thumb, forefinger, and middle finger.
The Red Team’s Summoning Scroll was undeniably an exceptional item.
The ability to summon nearby allies in a crisis and draw them close—no artifact could offer greater comfort to a Red Team operative risking their life in dangerous operations.
The only problem was that no magical item existed to send those summoned allies back to their original positions.
“Ugh, for heaven’s sake. Finally found the exit. Here. There’s an exit here.”
The Blonde Hair Stylist located an iron ladder affixed to the sewer wall.
At the top of the ladder, a large manhole cover was visible.
“Try opening that thing.”
The stylist jerked her chin toward the manhole cover.
The Chef set Yohan down on the ground, then strode up the ladder in quick strides and shoved the manhole cover with all his strength.
The cover was heavier than expected and didn’t open on the first attempt.
But after the Chef strained a few times, there came a grinding sound and the manhole cover was finally lifted upward, then pushed aside.
Immediately, a blaring horn wailed—blaaare!
The sound of passing traffic whooshed above the Chef’s head.
“Hell. Of all places, this opening’s right under the 10-Lane Avenue. Cars are flying past.”
The Chef grumbled.
The Blonde Hair Stylist pressed him onward.
“You’re built solid as they come, so why are you scared? Even if a car clips you, just get up there and clear the road. Yohan’s dying down here.”
“Alright, alright.”
The Chef squeezed his eyes shut and sprang up through the manhole.
Blaaare! Screeeech!
Followed by a loud crash.
“Ow! That hurts. Get down. I have an emergency patient—everyone out of the car, now.”
The Chef, still gripping his sashimi knife, jabbed a finger at the driver and physically dragged him out of the vehicle. Then he took the driver’s seat himself.
The Blonde Hair Stylist, who had climbed out of the manhole after him, quickly clambered into the back seat.
But first, she placed Yohan—whom she’d been carrying on her back—into the car.
Yohan had already drunk an additional Recovery Potion, yet it made little difference.
Han Eol darted in through the opposite car door.
“Let’s go. Everyone strap in.”
The Chef floored the accelerator.
The car shot forward with a roar.
Since Autonomous Driving Mode could only be used by drivers officially registered with the vehicle, the Chef switched to one-hundred-percent manual control and had no choice but to drive the old-fashioned way.
But this wasn’t the first time he’d commandeered a car—or even the second. The Chef drove with far more finesse than Han Eol would have expected.
More than finesse, really; he was performing stunt driving.
While the Chef wove between cars in a zigzag pattern like a scene from a film, racing toward the hospital emergency room, the Blonde Hair Stylist dabbed Yohan’s perspiration with a handkerchief.
“Yohan, stay with me. Just hold on a little longer—we’re almost at the hospital. Keep yourself together.”
The Blonde Hair Stylist murmured earnestly.
Meanwhile, Han Eol observed Yohan’s condition from the opposite side of the car.
‘I know Shinseong Group’s Recovery Potion well from experience. But he’s drunk four bottles and his condition’s worsening? There has to be something else going on here.’
What Han Eol suspected was Demon Energy infiltration.
Demon Energy was a force not permitted to humans.
Countless cities, including Shinseong Group, had reached that consensus.
Therefore, if humans wished to use Demon Energy, they could only fashion items from Demon Spirit Stones harvested from Demon Beasts and use those.
‘But among humans there are exceptions—those who wield Demon Energy as their own power, like Yang Bing does, like that Beijing spy I met today does, like I do, and like others I’ve encountered who command it as naturally as their own strength.’
Han Eol examined the wounds on Yohan’s chest, abdomen, and ribs carefully, then gently pressed his fingertips against the gash along the flank.
Chapter 6
Whoosh!
A faint Energy Barrier bloomed from Han Eol’s fingertips and made contact with Yohan’s wound.
Before, Han Eol had used this same method to absorb Demon Energy from a demon’s Demon Spirit Stone.
‘Will it work this time?’
Han Eol tried it on a whim, and the result was success.
Pitter-pitter-pitter—
The Demon Energy that had infiltrated Yohan’s body by the Beijing spy began to creep out the moment it touched Han Eol’s Energy Barrier, flowing into him and being absorbed.
“Ugh—huff—huff.”
Yohan suddenly gasped for breath in sharp bursts.
“Yohan, what’s wrong? Come on, stay with me.”
The Blonde Hair Stylist thought his condition was worsening and began kicking the back of the driver’s seat frantically.
“Hey! Speed up already! Honk that horn and get all those garbage trucks out of the way. Ram them if they don’t move! At this rate our Yohan’s going to die. Damn it!”
The stylist shrieked as if wailing.
“Got it.”
The Chef leaned on the horn—honk honk honk—and drove like a madman.
That was when Yohan coughed violently and spat up a mouthful of blood. Then, with a visibly easier expression, he lifted his head and shook it side to side.
“Uhhhhh.”
“Yohan, are you okay?”
“Huh? Sister?”
“You recognize your sister? Oh my god—oh god, Yohan.”
The Blonde Hair Stylist pulled Yohan into her arms at once.
It appeared that this stylist and the man named Yohan were siblings.
‘Are they actually blood relatives?’
Looking more closely, Han Eol noticed their features were strikingly similar. Apart from the difference in gender, they could pass for twins.
‘Ah, so that’s why she was making such a fuss.’
Han Eol cleaned out his ear with his pinky finger.
Before long, Han Eol withdrew his Energy Barrier, which meant he had stopped removing the Demon Energy that had infiltrated Yohan’s body.
‘I’ve already absorbed seventy percent of the Demon Energy. That should be enough for now.’
If Han Eol healed Yohan too perfectly, it would raise questions.
‘Shinseong Group needs to know that Demon Energy infiltrated this man’s body. That way they can handle it appropriately going forward.’
This was Han Eol’s reasoning.
The emergency room at H University Hospital prepared urgently to receive a patient.
The Blonde Hair Stylist had arranged it in advance through Red Team’s upper management, giving the hospital staff plenty of notice.
The moment Yohan lay down on the mobile hospital bed, doctors in white coats, nurses, and Ability Users trained in healing swarmed around him.
They rushed him into the emergency room.
The stylist naturally followed.
The Chef, left behind, struck up a conversation with Han Eol.
“Do you smoke, by any chance?”
“No, sir.”
“I’m trying to quit myself, but suddenly I’m craving one. Would you mind if I smoked for a bit while we talk?”
The Chef said this, then hurriedly added more when he caught Han Eol’s expression.
“Oh—don’t worry about the smoke at all. This Demon Stone Filter absorbs one hundred percent of it.”
The Chef pulled out a filter embedded with tiny Demon Stone granules and showed it to Han Eol.
It was one of the hottest items among smokers these days.
When the filter was activated, it blocked tobacco smoke completely, so non-smokers weren’t affected at all.
“So, what do you think? Will you give me a few minutes?”
The Chef asked again.
“Sure, why not.”
Han Eol readily agreed to his request.
The Marionettist Who Harvests Souls
Author |
Junon
Publisher |
Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
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Editorial Department
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G720:N+A063-20260703071
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — The contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means without the written permission of Dream Books.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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