Chapter 13

  Reion City was very different from Shining City.

  Where Shining felt quiet and slow, Reion never truly rested. It was the metropolitan heart of the Starlight Federation—a place where movement never stopped.

  High-rises dominated the skyline.

  Neon lights colored the streets.

  Traffic continued flowing even as evening approached.

  Inside a luxurious apartment, a man sat before several monitors.

  A headset covered his ears. The microphone was carefully adjusted. Lighting reflected evenly across his desk, and the camera stood aligned at the perfect angle.

  Everything looked professional.

  His name was Jonathan.

  Online, however, people knew him by another name.

  Tet.

  On Zich, Tet was not a small creator. He had gathered more than five hundred thousand followers and built a stable reputation over the past two years.

  Tomorrow marked the second anniversary of his channel.

  Because of that, tonight he hosted a special event.

  Boosting smaller creators.

  “Alright, viewers,” Tet said casually. “Which small content creator should we help next?”

  For nearly two hours he had been redirecting traffic across the platform.

  Gaming streams.

  IRL vloggers.

  Indie musicians.

  The chat moved rapidly across the screen.

  [Another gaming streamer?]

  [Games again? Help a beauty streamer.]

  [1]

  [1]

  [1]

  Tet smiled faintly.

  “You’re still energetic.”

  He checked the time.

  “One more channel,” he said. “Then I’m done.”

  The chat protested immediately.

  [It’s still early!]

  [Stay longer!]

  Tet shook his head.

  “Sorry. Family dinner tonight.”

  He opened Zich’s live directory and scrolled slowly.

  Gaming.

  Makeup.

  Talk shows.

  Endless thumbnails.

  Then—

  he paused.

  One image stood out.

  A tiny puppet stage.

  Two wooden figures.

  One tall.

  One small.

  Tet leaned forward slightly.

  “Oh?”

  “What channel is this?”

  The chat reacted immediately.

  [A puppet stream?]

  [Is that a toy company?]

  Tet read the title aloud.

  “The channel name is H&T.”

  “Sounds like an abbreviation.”

  He clicked.

  The stream opened.

  Warm lighting illuminated a small wooden stage. Two puppets stood beneath the light, motionless as if waiting for their cue.

  Then—

  “Hello everyone… welcome to the Happy Time Show.”

  The larger puppet spoke with the voice of an old man.

  The smaller one followed with a childish tone.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Tet narrowed his eyes.

  “Interesting.”

  He turned back to his camera.

  “Alright, everyone. Go show them some love.”

  Elsewhere—

  inside a modest apartment—

  Jack noticed the viewer count rising.

  Slowly.

  From zero.

  To ten.

  Then thirty.

  His fingers moved carefully, guiding the puppets with precise control.

  The larger puppet stepped forward.

  “Hello. My name is Nimo,” it said warmly.

  “And beside me is my grandson…”

  The smaller puppet remained silent.

  Nimo immediately struck the back of its head.

  “Introduce yourself properly.”

  The child puppet jolted.

  “Ah… my name is Dennis. Nice to meet you.”

  He paused before adding innocently,

  “But Grandpa, we already introduced ourselves earlier. No one was reacting.”

  “Quiet, you wooden-headed brat!” Nimo replied.

  “No one was watching at that time.”

  “But Grandpa, your head is the same as mine. It's made of wood.”

  “Shut up.”

  The chat began reacting.

  [LOL]

  [That kid is too honest.]

  [This is actually fun.]

  Jack continued smoothly.

  “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for stopping by.”

  Dennis suddenly began spinning in place.

  Nimo frowned.

  “Could you entertain the audience instead of spinning aimlessly?”

  Dennis stopped and faced forward.

  “Dear viewers… do you want to hear something?”

  He paused.

  “…Don’t cry.”

  “One day you’ll all find your soulmates.”

  The chat exploded.

  [WTF?! Why did you suddenly say that?]

  [Why do I feel attacked?]

  [Is he roasting us?]

  Nimo struck the back of Dennis’s head again.

  CLACK.

  The hollow wooden sound echoed through the microphone.

  The chat winced—and laughed.

  “That’s comfort, not entertainment.”

  Dennis blinked.

  “But they mean the same thing, don’t they?”

  “Both make people happy.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Nimo folded his arms.

  “The difference is…”

  “One makes them laugh.”

  “The other makes them stop crying.”

  Dennis tilted his head.

  “…Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Apologize,” Nimo said sternly.

  Dennis lowered his head.

  “I’m sorry…”

  He paused.

  “…if the truth hurts you.”

  The chat scrolled wildly.

  [I don’t accept that apology.]

  [What’s wrong with being single?]

  [I have a girlfriend though.]

  In Reion City—

  Tet watched with growing interest.

  The movements looked slightly stiff.

  But coordinated.

  Natural.

  His gaze focused carefully on the puppets.

  “…Why aren’t there any strings?”

  He could see Jack’s hands above the stage.

  No threads.

  No rods.

  Nothing visible.

  “Hm.”

  “Camera trick?”

  He shrugged.

  “Well.”

  Tet clicked the donation button.

  100 Halley.

  Back inside Jack’s apartment—

  A notification appeared.

  { Tet has donated 100 Halley → Have you done this before? }

  Jack’s eyes widened slightly.

  100 Halley.

  He adjusted instantly.

  Nimo straightened proudly.

  “To our dear brother Tet!”

  “Thank you for the 100 Halley!”

  “May you live long and prosper!” Dennis added enthusiastically.

  “May you always be healthy and successful.”

  Nimo nodded.

  “And to answer your question—”

  “This is our debut.”

  “Today is our very first performance.”

  The chat reacted immediately.

  [Tet donated 100?]

  [He’s impressed.]

  [First debut? Seriously?]

  [You’re talented.]

  More donations appeared.

  Not as large.

  But steady.

  {User123 donated 5 Halley → Roast me, Dennis!}

  Dennis leaned toward the camera.

  His painted eyes stared directly into the viewers’ souls.

  “User123…”

  “With a name like that, I assume you're the 123rd guy your girlfriend has dated… this year.”

  The chat exploded.

  [LMAO]

  [HAHAHAHA]

  The viewer count climbed.

  Five hundred.

  Six hundred.

  Behind the stage, hidden from the audience, Jack allowed himself a faint smile.

  He answered calmly.

  “Yes, we practiced for a long time.”

  “No special effects.”

  “Just experience.”

  Half-truths.

  Improvised explanations.

  Then Tet’s viewers began sharing the stream.

  Forums.

  Group chats.

  “Check this out.”

  “It’s actually good.”

  The numbers rose again.

  Eight hundred.

  Nine hundred.

  One thousand.

  Behind the stage—

  Jack saw the number pass one thousand.

  And then—

  he felt it.

  Something subtle shifted.

  Not in the room.

  Not in the audience.

  In his fingers.

  His fingers moved.

  The puppets responded instantly.

  Too smoothly.

  More fluid.

  More alive.

  For a brief moment—

  Jack felt as though the strings were no longer in his hands.

  As if the strain had shifted somewhere else.

  Jack frowned slightly.

  “What…?”

  “Why do my movements feel refined?”

  “Even ventriloquism feels easier.”

  “Did my skill evolve mid-performance?”

  He waited.

  No notification appeared.

  “…Strange.”

  “Is it because the show hasn’t ended yet?”

  “I haven’t even received any points.”

  He pushed the thought aside.

  Still live.

  Still performing.

  But he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  In Reion City—

  Tet leaned closer to his monitor.

  “…Is it just me?”

  “The movements look smoother now.”

  A few viewers mentioned it in chat.

  Most ignored it.

  Jack noticed the comments.

  He scrolled past them deliberately.

  Pretending not to notice.

  The show continued.

  Time passed.

  Minutes blurred beneath the soft glow of the desk lamp.

  One hour.

  Then thirty minutes more.

  The viewer count stabilized.

  1,700.

  Steady.

  Unmoving.

  Behind the puppet stage, Jack began to feel the strain.

  A dull pressure formed behind his eyes.

  His fingers still moved—

  but slower now.

  He had been using his skill continuously.

  Too long.

  “I should end it soon…”

  Through Dennis’s mouth—

  he spoke softly.

  “Grandpa… it’s almost time.”

  Dennis leaned toward Nimo as if whispering a secret.

  Nimo nodded slowly.

  “Mmm… oh right.”

  He turned toward the audience.

  “Well then, dear viewers… hahaha.”

  “Since I’m already old, I can’t stay with you much longer.”

  A gentle chuckle followed.

  “My grandson also needs to study.”

  “He can’t stay up too late.”

  Dennis turned quickly.

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “Grandpa says I’m not allowed to stay up late.”

  “But I don’t understand…”

  “Do I even need sleep?”

  The chat reacted immediately.

  [Is it ending already?]

  [Even puppets need rest lol.]

  [Humans don’t rest either ??]

  [Aw I just got here.]

  [Streaming again tomorrow?]

  Nimo raised one hand.

  “Don’t worry.”

  “We will definitely return tomorrow.”

  Dennis nodded eagerly.

  “Yes, tomorrow evening.”

  “Same time.”

  The two puppets stepped forward.

  And bowed.

  “Thank you for everything today.”

  “We apologize if there were any mistakes.”

  “With that…”

  “Until next time.”

  “Bye-bye.”

  The lights dimmed.

  The stage froze.

  And at that exact moment—

  Jack ended the livestream.

  In Reion City—

  Tet stared at the dark screen.

  The chat still moved.

  Still discussing the performance.

  He exhaled quietly.

  “Well.”

  “That was unexpectedly enjoyable.”

  “I even lost track of time.”

  He leaned back in his chair.

  “But I have dinner with my family.”

  “So I’ll end my stream here as well.”

  The chat responded quickly.

  [Thanks to you we found that channel.]

  [I’ll show it to my little brother tomorrow.]

  [Enjoy your dinner.]

  Tet smiled.

  “Alright.”

  “See you all tomorrow.”

  He ended the broadcast.

  Silence filled the room.

  Only the faint hum of electronics remained.

  Tet stared at the monitor.

  The puppet movements replayed in his mind.

  Near the end—

  they had changed.

  Smoother.

  More fluid.

  “…Strange.”

  He frowned slightly.

  “Forget it.”

  “Probably invisible strings.”

  “Or a camera trick.”

  He stood up and removed his headset.

  “I still need to get ready.”

  The lights in the streaming room dimmed as he left.

  In another city—

  behind another screen—

  the stage had already closed.

  But something subtle had changed.

  And neither of them understood it yet.

  The show had ended.

  But the performance—

  had only just begun.