The Soul-Harvesting Puppeteer - Chapter 67

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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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Episode 67
The cook stuck a cigarette between his lips and activated the filter. Then he turned to Han Eol with careful deliberation.
“Haven’t seen you before. What Generation are you?”
“Generation?”
“Generation number. What Generation is Red Team?”
Typically, Ability Users selected for Red Team enter a dedicated training facility and undergo specialized instruction for two years.
That’s when their Generation is determined.
But Han Eol had skipped that procedure entirely.
Han Eol hesitated for a moment before fumbling through his answer.
“I’ve been assigned to Red Team for… about two years now.”
“Ah, I see. Then training facility entry would’ve been four years ago, making you 22nd Generation.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Toma-122, 15th Generation.”
The cook extended his hand to Han Eol for a handshake.
“Toma-122? Ah, I see.”
Han Eol now realized that names like Yohan and Toma weren’t their real names at all.
And Toma-122 with a number attached—Han Eol found the whole naming convention decidedly strange.
‘Now that I think about it, my ID card had Moses-003 written on it.’
Han Eol quickly grasped the offered hand and introduced himself.
“I’m Moses-003.”
“What? Moses? And number 003? Well, well. That’s quite something.”
Toma-122 the cook nodded vigorously, as if he’d just understood something significant.
The naming system for Red Team agents was classified, but those in the know understood perfectly. The designation “Moses” was extraordinarily rare.
That’s why Han Eol had been assigned such a high number.
Though their identities remained concealed, it meant Moses-001 and Moses-002 agents existed somewhere in Red Team, with Han Eol coming right after them.
Chapter 7
“You look so young I spoke casually without thinking. I hope I haven’t made a blunder. Someone of your caliber might well become my superior before long.”
Toma-122 paid Han Eol a compliment.
Han Eol waved his hand dismissively.
“Come on, I’m only a second-year rookie.”
“Rank in Red Team matters more than Generation. Take Yohan-088—he’s junior to both me and Lucia-101 in Generation, but he ranks higher in the team hierarchy.”
‘Yohan-088, Lucia-101? Ah. So that injured man earlier was Yohan-088. And the blonde-haired hairdresser must be Lucia-101.’
Han Eol filed away this fresh intelligence while pressing further.
“By the way, senior, how exactly does the Summoning Scroll draw its users? This is my first time being summoned.”
“Well, that’s…”
Toma-122, pleased by Han Eol’s friendly manner, grinned widely and shared what he knew.
A Summoning Scroll could reach out across approximately thirty kilometers, he explained.
‘Quite impressive.’
A thirty-kilometer radius was far wider than Han Eol had anticipated.
Typically, three to ten comrades were summoned at once, though proximity alone didn’t guarantee being selected—or so the explanation went.
“The exact summoning rules are beyond me. It looks almost random, but then again, it’s not completely random either.”
“Is that so?”
“Take Lucia-101 and Yohan-088, for instance. They’re blood relatives. If one of them tears a Summoning Scroll, the other’s chances of being summoned spike dramatically.”
“Interesting.”
Han Eol blinked in fascination.
Toma-122, energized by his interest, elaborated further.
“Blood relations take priority, but after that it seems to favor combat power. I Awakened a close-range combat Ability myself, so I get summoned often. That’s how I became acquainted with Lucia-101 and Yohan-088.”
Toma-122 punctuated this with a long exhale of smoke.
A small Demon Spirit Stone embedded in the filter drew in every wisp without a trace.
Thanks to it, Han Eol couldn’t smell the tobacco at all.
‘So this man, Yohan-088, and Lucia-101 are all combat-type users.’
Now that he thought about it, Lucia-101’s Spiritual Form was scissors made of ice.
Meanwhile, within Toma-122’s spirit dwelt a single sashimi blade.
‘Quite fitting, really.’
Han Eol nodded slowly.
The Toma-122 he saw before him wielded a sashimi knife as his Spiritual Form, and the tool in his hands right now was also a sashimi blade for slicing fish.
He also recalled that when Lucia-101 first materialized in the sewers, she’d been holding scissors in one hand and hair clippers in the other.
Just then, Toma-122 finished smoking, stubbed out the cigarette against his shoe sole, and flicked the butt into a trash bin.
“Here comes the Project Manager now. He’s Yohan-088’s direct superior.”
Toma-122 pointed at the Emergency Room entrance with his chin.
A middle-aged man in a dark suit was jumping down from a van there.
The stocky man with a thick stubble asked a passing nurse something before dashing into the Emergency Room with rapid strides.
“We should head in too.”
“We should?”
At Han Eol’s words, Toma-122 reacted as though the question were absurdly obvious.
“Of course. We need to give the Project Manager a statement about what happened in the Sewers. That way he can smooth over the fact that we commandeered a civilian’s car, and he can also make it disappear that I was suddenly summoned away while serving sushi to customers.”
“Ah, I see.”
Han Eol found himself drawn to Red Team work for reasons he couldn’t quite name.
There was something romantic about it, he supposed.
In the meantime, Toma-122 quickened his pace toward the Emergency Room.
Han Eol scurried after him like a puppy.
“Moses-003, you say?”
The Project Manager stared at Han Eol with an expression of discomfort.
Yohan-088’s direct superior had received intelligence that suspicious individuals had infiltrated Midland Seoul recently and had ordered Yohan-088 to conduct surveillance on them.
But when Yohan-088 came under counterattack from those agents, things had spiraled—and he’d never imagined that Moses-003, that is, Han Eol, would be involved in this operation.
‘Heavens, if that’s Moses-003, he’s the VIP the director made a special point of mentioning not long ago.’
For Red Team, there was only one kind of client.
The Shinseong Group owner and his family, whom Red Team was tasked with protecting.
From the Project Manager’s perspective, the fact that a VIP who should have been receiving protection from Red Team had somehow become a Red Team operative was awkward enough—but having that VIP caught up in a dangerous operation was a serious problem.
‘Damn it. How am I supposed to explain this situation to the director?’
The Project Manager suddenly felt a headache coming on and cradled his head in his thick palms.
Chapter 8
At the precise moment Han Eol was meeting the Red Team’s bulky Project Manager, or PM, for the first time, a grave conversation was taking place on the third floor of an old mansion in Midland Beijing.
Liu Zhen-ying, a man with a large mole on his left cheek, climbed the stairs rapidly and approached Liu Sao-chi, an elder with a long beard who was enjoying tea by the window, hurrying forward to make his report.
“Lord Liu, a protest has come in from Lin Bao of Sija Forest.”
“A protest? What would we have done to invite a protest from him?”
Liu Sao-chi asked in reply, his eyes sunken.
Liu Sao-chi possessed features handsome enough that he might be called an immortal, yet his eyes were utterly inhuman and alien in their gaze.
There was no white to Liu Sao-chi’s eyes at all—only deep black—and within that blackness, tiny, horrifying insects crawled about, producing faint scratching sounds.
The moment one looked directly into those bizarre insects, one’s mind would be corrupted, and so Liu Zhen-ying dared not meet the lord’s gaze, keeping his head bowed low.
In that posture, Liu Zhen-ying laid out the full story.
“Previously, I reported to you, Lord, that an Ability User belonging to Sija Forest had infiltrated Midland Seoul at our request.”
“Ah, yes. I remember.”
“That Ability User was one of Lin Bao’s direct disciples, and it seems that his Spirit Token was shattered just moments ago.”
“Is that so?”
A shattered Spirit Token meant that the soul of the token’s owner had departed from the mortal realm.
Liu Sao-chi turned his gaze toward the southeast, where Midland Seoul lay, and watched quietly, observing the great currents of fate.
Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch.
The tiny insects within Liu Sao-chi’s eyes moved in rapid figure-eights, spinning around and around.
As Liu Sao-chi observed fate, a sinister aura like black smoke emanated from his entire body, wavering and undulating through the air.
Liu Zhen-ying dared not even breathe properly.
After a moment, Liu Sao-chi murmured with an expression of bewilderment.
“The threads of fate are unclear. I could see more clearly if I were to exhaust my lifespan, but this affair hardly merits the expenditure of my precious years.”
“You speak only wisdom, Lord. It would be unthinkable for one of your stature to spend precious lifespan on a matter concerning a minor city like Seoul.”
Liu Zhen-ying made this comment with a flick of his tongue, yet in truth, he hoped the lord would exhaust his lifespan if it meant clarifying this matter thoroughly.
There were two reasons for this.
First, contrary to what Lord Liu Sao-chi had said, Midland Seoul was by no means a minor city.
The Shinseong Group, which ruled there, was one of only a handful of major powers among the world’s factions that had established a foothold in the Highland 8 Continents.
Though it was true that Seoul’s Immortal Experts currently lagged considerably behind those in Beijing or Shanghai, Lee Hyun, who had once been the undisputed number one there, was a formidable Ability User who had kept even Beijing, New York, and London on high alert.
‘That’s precisely why our Liu Family cannot afford to treat Seoul lightly and must engage in constant intelligence gathering.’
This was Liu Zhen-ying’s thought, as the official representative of the Liu Family.
Yet Liu Zhen-ying did not dare voice his thoughts aloud before Lord Liu Sao-chi.
If the lord so wished, a mere representative could be replaced in an instant.
On the other hand, the second reason Liu Zhen-ying wished to uncover the truth of this matter lay with Sija Forest itself.
In truth, Sija Forest was no ordinary faction.
Just as the Liu clan ruled Beijing today, so Lin Bao’s Sija Forest was the master of Midland Shanghai.
Moreover, Lin Bao’s fearsome martial prowess was something even the Liu Family could not lightly dismiss.
And now that old lion Lin Bao had come to Liu Zhen-ying with anger burning hot, lodging a protest.
Therefore, Liu Zhen-ying had to uncover the true cause of Sija Forest’s direct disciple’s death and thereby appease Lin Bao’s wrath.
This was precisely why Liu Zhen-ying had rushed over to Lin Bao in such haste, but Lin Bao had grown weary of life and abandoned his observation of fate’s currents.
‘Sigh.’
Liu Zhen-ying exhaled silently, frustration weighing on his chest.
It was then that Lin Bao’s voice cut through to Liu Zhen-ying’s ears.
“Any disciple who has received Lin Bao’s teachings would have already ascended the Immortal Path. The Ability Users of Midland Seoul lack the strength to contend with one who has cultivated inner essence and wields demon spirits directly.”
“I… share that assessment.”
Liu Zhen-ying nodded in agreement with Lin Bao’s words without hesitation.
Lin Bao continued, his gaze fixed toward Seoul.
“Even in the worst case, Lin Bao’s disciple would have found a way to survive and escape Seoul. Our Chinese knowledge of the Immortal Path reaches such heights.”
“Wise words indeed.”
Liu Zhen-ying affirmed once more.
That was when Lin Bao added a caveat.
“If only the opponent were merely ordinary Shinseong Group Ability Users.”
At those words, Liu Zhen-ying’s head snapped up.
“Then, what are you saying—”
“The shattering of Lin Bao’s disciple’s Spirit Token, the twisting of the Heavenly Secrets that made observation of fate’s flow so difficult, and most troubling of all—it appears that some of the Demon Race from Highland have infiltrated Seoul.”
Lin Bao had uttered something shocking.
“What—!”
Liu Zhen-ying’s breath caught in his throat.
Why was Highland a land of opportunity for humanity?
Because humans could access Highland, yet the Demon Beasts and Demon Race of Highland could not enter Midland.
But what if Demon Beasts and Demon Race could invade Midland?
Then humanity would perish in an instant.
Either devoured entirely as prey for the Demon Beasts, or enslaved by the Demon Race, reduced to the pitiful existence of livestock.
Humanity’s future would offer only these two paths.
Yet Lin Bao spoke of such horrors without hesitation.
Lin Bao could speak of such things because, in truth, the Liu Family had been conducting similar attempts in secret.
The Soul-Harvesting Puppet Master
Author |
Jyunon
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
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Editorial Department
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The contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means without the written permission of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. – 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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