"Lift your hat!"

The old man's voice continued to emanate from the puppeteer's top hat, emphasizing in a commanding tone:

"Hurry up!"

On the podium, the puppeteer seemed a little surprised by the sudden appearance of the voice - of course, compared to the many young wizards in the audience, it was clearly still within its reach.

"It's not time for dinner yet, my dear. The puppeteer's shrill voice suddenly became oily and his tone was much softer: "You can sleep a little longer." ”

It lifted its slender arms, palms outstretched, carefully resting them on either side of its cheeks, while its two eyes rolled up at a ridiculous angle, trying to look at the brim of the hat peeking out of its forehead.

It was as if it had not a hat on its head, but a bomb.

"Lift!up!you!hat!!"

The old man's voice roared, and it was extremely harsh: "You wooden shelf gnawed by the Flober caterpillar, has your head been hollowed out by insects?! You turned your head so hard that you still have the face to let me continue to sleep?!!!

The puppeteer raised its long, pointed nose, and its stiff face squeezed out a sudden expression.

"I always thought that vertigo would help me sleep. It lowered its palms to its face, took its head off its shoulders again, held it in its palms and looked it left and right—God knows what it was looking at—while explaining, "Besides, my head is not hollow. ”

The puppeteer denied it, and added in a rambling voice, "You should know that it's elm, solid." My arms, legs, and head were all of elm. At first, they thought that the peach wood was too soft, the elderberry was too hard, and the locust wood was too heavy, so they ended up making me out of elm, and I remember mentioning this to you more than once. ”

"Shut up, you idiot!!"

"Don't call me a fool, call me 'Your Highness the Puppet'. ”

"Shut up!!!! stupid!!!!!

"If you continue to be so rude, be careful that I poke this hat through my nose through seventeen or eighteen transparent holes. ”

On the rostrum, the puppeteer held his head, as if he was talking stand-up comedy, scolding and scolding, and he was very happy to say every word.

Under the rostrum, the young wizards looked at each other as they listened to the neurotic wooden man on the stage, wondering if they should take this opportunity to re-attack the light mask at the door.

However, before that, everyone had reorganized themselves as hunting teams and had set up defensive formations. Some of the hunters injured in the riots are also undergoing initial treatment with the help of others.

For a while, the two groups of people on and off the stage went their own way, and there was a feeling of being clear and not interfering with each other.

Of course, this state of 'peace' did not last long.

Under the growl and threat of the old voice, the puppeteer quickly relented and removed the top hat from his head.

"You'll regret it...... The hunt hasn't started yet, and now that you're coming out, do you want anything else to gain besides drooling for a few hours?" muttered to the puppeteer, hanging his hat around his neck.

When the top hat is removed, the puppeteer's bare forehead is revealed.

In fact, the wooden man did not have a single hair on his entire head, and the bare forehead was emphasized because of the large golden high-backed chair that stood at the door of the head and further back.

On the chair, sat an ugly, fist-sized humanoid.

It was draped in an ornate silver robe, carrying a staff as long as chopsticks, and wearing a Gothic wizard's pointed hat on its head, and its gray beard was piled up in a mess on its face, making it almost impossible to see its features.

Compared with the gorgeous makeup of the upper body, its lower body looks much shabby.

No pants, no socks, not even shoes - yes, the fist-sized guy had two hairy calves bare, revealing fluffy toes, and let his bare soles drink the northwest wind.

"Delicious!" the little old man took a deep breath and laughed, "Every passer-by in the air has a tempting, bloody aroma!"

Strange rhetoric, strange tones, strange looks, strange clothes - this guy who sits on the puppet's head and looks like a little old man exudes a strange, mixed atmosphere from the inside out, giving people an unusually uncomfortable feeling.

It seems that I can't sit in a chair and relax my chest.

The little old man turned over, supported the staff, climbed onto the chair with great effort, and then opened his arms, looked at the young wizard in the audience, and laughed sadly:

"Young Wizard Yo ......"

"It doesn't matter if you like to play with the dead or with the soul;"

"Or like to whisper demonic songs and smear bloody runes on yellow paper;"

"It doesn't matter if you like the feeling of Mithril and gems becoming one in a spell, the sound of bubbling in a cauldron, or the enchanting fragrance of Manjusha when it opens. ”

"It doesn't matter. ”

"In my garden, you will all find your home!"

"Want to have a long life?"

"Do you want to have endless wealth?"

"Want to really get ahead?!"

"Go, go......"

"They're in my garden!!"

"Offering ......"

"Ahem!!" the puppeteer coughed violently twice, interrupting the little old man's aria.

The little old man frowned, lifted his furry toes, scratched his messy beard, paused, raised his staff again, and continued to sigh, "Offering ......"

"Ahem!!" the puppeteer continued to cough dryly.

"Knock! knock!" The little old man grabbed the staff in his hand and angrily poked the puppet's head under the high-backed chair: "Shut up! You elm head!! Let me finish my sentence! Didn't your adults teach you how to write the word politeness?!!

"I don't have adults in my family. The puppeteer shrugged his shoulders and replied very sincerely.

The tall hat that hung around its neck shook as he shrugged his shoulders, as if it was going to fall off at any moment.

"Will you shut up then?!" the little old man continued to poke the puppeteer's head with his staff.

"Yes, yes. The last tremor from his head made the puppeteer tremble a little, and he had to stretch out two fingers and grab the staff that the little old man was poking wildly: "...... But now is not the time for you to ask for sacrifices. ”

"Off... I... Fart... "The little old man retorted with great force, and with all his might, he fought with the puppeteer's two fingers for ownership of the staff, and his whole body almost hung onto the staff.

"Before the secret garden is opened, it naturally doesn't matter to you. The puppeteer rubbed his fingertips, turned the little old man off the staff, and added calmly: "As for what you want to do after those delicacies enter the secret garden, that's your business." ”

After the little old man fell from the staff back to the golden high-backed chair, he shook his head vigorously, and he did not slow down for a long time.