With the red-furred ape and the short-statured youth having departed one after the other, the room quickly sank into a profound silence.
Only the crackling sounds of the fire breaking the stillness.
Then, John, who was quietly sitting by the flames, suddenly turned his gaze toward a shadowed corner.
"You've been hiding for quite some time. Don't you think it's about time you came out?"
At his words, the darkness in the corner stirred.
A figure emerged — the shape of a fiery young woman materialized.
Her skin gleamed with a healthy, sun-kissed bronze tone, and her facial features were rich with exotic beauty.
Though her clothes were a bit ragged and messy, the tightness of her outfit accentuated her stunning curves.
Her waist was taut, and the faint outlines of a well-defined abdominal "V-line" gave her an added touch of wild, untamed allure, the kind that evoked an instinctual desire to conquer.
"You... how did you do that just now?"
The disheveled girl scratched her head in confusion.
She had been hiding in that corner to avoid trouble — this shack was originally her hideout.
And then she had witnessed something unbelievable:
Both the short youth and the red-furred ape had entered this room… yet neither had noticed John at all, even though he had been sitting right in front of them!
John shrugged lazily and replied nonchalantly,
"I don't know either. Maybe they were just blind."
The girl: "..."
If she actually believed that nonsense, then she would be the one who was blind.
After all, even if the others had been somehow blind, John had still spotted her hiding in the shadows!
She was extremely confident in her concealment abilities — especially with her complexion blending her seamlessly into the darkness.
This young man before her was clearly no ordinary person.
His true strength was probably far above her own!
Thinking carefully, she took a few steps forward, approaching John with a warm smile.
"I'm Monica. A Pugilist.
May I ask for your name?"
John squinted slightly and teased,
"Pugilist? You look all rough and carefree, but you're not being honest at all.
Since when could Pugilists hide their presence so well?"
John studied Monica seriously.
Thanks to the crash course Celia had given him about Awakeners and their various Classes,
he realized almost immediately:
Monica was likely not an ordinary Pugilist.
She was most probably a Hidden Class — a Dark Pugilist.
Otherwise, her ability to mask her presence wouldn't be so refined.
Hidden Classes were extraordinarily rare and powerful — every one of them a true treasure.
Upon hearing John's words, Monica laughed awkwardly.
She hadn't expected to be seen through so easily.
This guy… was definitely one of those low-key masters!
Seeing that John had no intention of pressing the issue further, Monica relaxed.
John, meanwhile, sat back beside the fire, pretending to doze off.
Although Monica had clearly been hiding something, John sensed no hostility from her.
Monica, seeing that he wasn't hostile either, quietly returned to her corner, preparing to blend into the shadows once more.
But just then, she twitched her nose slightly.
Something was wrong.
There was a strange scent in the air, something that made her blood churn unnaturally, stirring up a restless heat within her.
Unconsciously, her gaze toward John grew more ambiguous, more suggestive.
John noticed her changes out of the corner of his eye and shook his head slightly, unnoticed.
He then pulled out a strip of glowing green bandage and wrapped it around his forehead.
Strictly speaking, the strange scent permeating the room wasn't poison —
it was an aphrodisiac agent, designed to trigger uncontrollable lust and hallucinations.
Normally, even taking antidotes wouldn't neutralize its effects — victims would simply spiral deeper into delirium.
But John had the Mummification Wrapping Skill.
With some prior preparation, he could completely nullify the aphrodisiac's influence.
Still, he didn't want to alarm whoever was behind this trap too early.
So he continued pretending to sleep, ignoring the increasingly erratic Monica as she drifted toward him, her mind clouded by desire.
"So hot... so uncomfortable..."
Monica gasped.
She felt as though she were burning alive, desperately clawing at her own clothes in frustration.
She needed to vent the unbearable heat somehow — but had no outlet.
She resembled a wild beast driven into heat, struggling helplessly against invisible chains.
John, still feigning sleep, twitched his lips slightly.
Wait a minute...
Could she really be... that inexperienced?
He had expected Monica, once overwhelmed by the drug, to either attack him recklessly or collapse into some compromising situation.
He had even mentally prepared options for whether to push her away or fend her off gently.
But this girl…
She just... thrashed around?
Had she never even seen adult material before?
Outwardly, she was fierce and wild — but inwardly, she might actually be… astonishingly pure?!
Before he could think more about it, faint footsteps sounded outside the door.
The short-statured youth had returned.
He stepped into the room, his gaze sweeping over John and Monica, a pleased grin curling his lips.
"Perfect.
A handsome young man —
Once I make him my substitute puppet, I'll easily bewitch all the noble ladies in town.
And with my... short frame, no one will suspect a thing.
Hahaha... my revenge against those who mocked me will be so, so sweet..."
"And that wild beauty there... tonight, I'll savor some exotic flavor!"
His name was Harry.
Born short and weak, he had been bullied and despised since childhood.
No woman had ever looked at him kindly.
But none of that mattered now.
He had already twisted the noble young ladies of Whitespire around his finger, savoring both revenge and forbidden pleasures.
The rush of domination had become an addiction to him.
With a wave of his hand, sinister tendrils burst from his back.
They wriggled and condensed into a group of puppets, all of them charging toward John and Monica!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The puppets were powerful.
One lunged straight at Monica, aiming to kiss her —
intending to plant a living parasite within her, turning her into Harry's puppet slave.
But just as it reached her —
A golden sword light flashed like a meteor across the room.
Slash!
The puppet's head was instantly severed.
Blood sprayed.
From the puppet's corpse came a horrible shriek, like a dying infant, before it collapsed lifelessly.
The sudden death of his puppet made Harry's heart skip a beat.
He stared at John in disbelief.
"How... How could this be?
Even Gold Rank Awakeners would fall under that aphrodisiac's influence!
Why are you still conscious?!"
John didn't even bother answering.
Instead, he drew out his glowing bandage and swiftly wrapped Monica up like a mummy, binding her tightly.
As the bandages activated, shining brilliantly, the hallucination-fueled Monica immediately regained her senses.
Finding herself bundled up like a human sausage, she instinctively exploded with a punch, shattering the bandages into pieces.
Confused and defensive, she turned, ready to strike again —
but then she saw John.
And the blood-soaked puppet corpses at their feet.
"...What the hell is going on?"
Monica looked at John, utterly baffled.
Memories from earlier flooded back — she realized she had almost been trapped by a malicious scheme.
Still, John's method of detoxification seemed a bit…
too strange, right?!
Who wraps people up like that?!
John calmly explained,
"The one causing trouble around Whitespire, harassing young ladies... it should be him."
He nodded toward Harry.
"But the intelligence we received was wrong.
He isn't a Warrior class."
"He's a Puppeteer."
John's voice grew cold.
The Puppeteer class was extremely rare and dangerous.
Every Puppeteer had different ways of manipulating their puppets —
but this one...
This Harry twisted living men into his puppets.
It was monstrous.