I! Cleaner!

*It seemed that Leon really fell for this trick. Just by acting slightly weaker, I could earn some extra "favors" from him.*

Sensing the atmosphere was just right, the Princess, finally getting some return on her numerous efforts despite her ongoing worries about the anomalous events, decided to temporarily set aside her concerns. With a slightly tense demeanor, she asked in a faint, helpless voice, "Leon, are you sure nothing will happen?"

"Don't worry."

Leon tapped twice on the box's mirror, calling out the temporarily enclosed Black Goat. While instructing it to find the location of the anomalous object's holder, he kept his eyes fixed on the puppets onstage, and without turning his head, he softly reassured, "I just had... a friend take a look. The audience members' souls are all normal, with no signs of being controlled or anything of the sort. Simply watching the show should be safe.

Moreover, the Morning Star Troupe has performed this over a dozen times since the news broke out. If there were going to be problems, they would have already emerged, not waited until now to..."

"Tap, tap, tap-tap-tap..."

Before Leon could finish speaking, strange sounds emanated from the direction of the stage. A torrent of wood beads, the size of teardrops, uncontrollably fell from the female lead puppet's face, clattering onto the stage floor.

From all the audience's perspective, the heroine, who was supposed to smile and accept Elijah's invitation to begin a wonderful Twelve Days' Journey, suddenly started to cry eerily.

On Agatha's beautiful face, though adorned with a playful yet charming smile, big, despairing, and painful tears uncontrollably flowed down from her bright eyes...

*Seriously? Does trouble only follow when I arrive?*

Watching the sudden halt of the performance as the puppets started trembling on stage, Leon found himself unable to maintain his composure. Audience members, noticing the anomaly, began to react with a tumult due to the female lead's abrupt crying.

"Why is she crying? Did something happen to the actress's family?"

"Oh, come on, I rarely attend a play, and it turns out like this."

"Is this the level of the Morning Star Troupe's lead? Tsk, tsk, tsk, ever since Andre got blacklisted, you can't watch Morning Star's plays."

"Damn it, I traveled so far specifically for this... Is this how they repay us? Damn it! Refund!"

"Everyone! Everyone, please listen to me!"

Amidst the mixed noises of curiosity, regret, and anger from the audience, the Central Cross Theatre Troupe's manager hurriedly ran out from backstage, pushed aside the actors in his way, and rushed to the microphone. He continuously bowed to the audience, profusely apologizing with a sweaty face, "The actress playing Agatha today had a family matter, so her emotions may not be very stable. This affected your theater experience, and we are deeply sorry.

Rest assured, our theater will take full responsibility. After the show, we will refund the ticket price for this performance in full, and visitors from afar will also receive small gifts... Come quickly! Apologize to everyone!"

Hearing the manager's words, the audience's anger slightly abated.

However, for some reason, even after repeated hints from the theater manager, the actress playing Agatha had no reaction whatsoever. She maintained her original posture, with large tears streaming down her face as she continued to smile at the audience.

"What's her deal?"

"Messing up the performance and still has the nerve to smile? Is this the quality of Morning Star's actors?"

"It's not just Morning Star, is it? In recent years, Master Wilde hasn't produced any new works with integrity either."

"Indeed... The new works from Master Wilde these past two years haven't been impressive. Even when there's something slightly good, judging by these actors, they probably wouldn't be able to perform it properly anyway."

"..."

"Well... sorry, she might be too self-reproachful, so for the moment... a bit bewildered..."

After attempting to explain the actress's side with a forced smile, the theater manager, whose body was slightly chubby, wiped his sweat with a handkerchief and tried to placate the dissatisfied audience, "Everyone, the stage needs to be reset, and the actors have to prepare again. In the meantime, why don't we invite Master Wilde to come out and chat a little with everyone?"

...

*The possessor of this anomalous object should definitely be him.*

Watching the middle-aged man who was brought forward to interact with the audience, Leon looked at the glass in the couple's box and received a confirmation response from the Black Goat.

*Then this possessor of an anomalous object is identified as Master Wilde, with abilities related to puppets, theater, manipulation, and currently, no record of causing harm...*

Having gathered relatively complete intelligence, Leon didn't linger further. He opened the couple's box door and hurriedly led the Princess towards the exit passage.

Although things seemed safe for the moment, faced with completely unknown abnormal circumstances, it was prudent to send the Princess out first, and then have her bring people over to organize an audience evacuation quickly.

As for himself, he should distance himself a bit, setting up the sniper rifle in a location where he could monitor the scene yet not be impacted immediately, in case the master suddenly lost control...

"Nonsense, there's nothing wrong with my script!"

Just as Leon and the Princess were about to enter the exit passage, Master Wilde, over at the stage, was seemingly angered by some part of the audience's remarks and shouted angrily towards them, "It's the actors who are lacking! I wrote the best scripts! But with their level, they simply can't bring out the essence of the characters or portray such complex and profound emotions! If Andre were still here..."

"Really?"

As soon as Master Wilde's angry shout ended, a man, likely a drama critic or something similar, sitting in the front row facing the main stage, coldly retorted, "Drama is inherently an art of trade-offs, meant to convey stories spanning days, years, or even decades within a mere two or three hours.

Therefore, learning to balance structure and emotional allocation, adjusting the script's difficulty according to the actors' abilities, is something a playwright should inherently master.

Pardon my frankness, but if your plays are worthless without excellent actors, could it be that... the outdated content you write is inherently worthless?"

"..."

*Damn it!*

Hearing the "friendly exchange" coming from the stage, even without the Black Goat at hand to see Master Wilde's soul state, Leon could deduce—from the middle-aged man's sharp critique—that *something big was about to happen!*

Sure enough, after hearing the middle-aged man's words, Master Wilde, who still seemed in a relatively stable mental state, was essentially "ignited" on the spot. His bloodshot eyes widened fiercely, and he raised his hand towards the audience, gritting his teeth.

"Worthless? I'll soon show you just how foolish your previous remarks are!!!"

With Master Wilde's angry shout, all three thousand-plus audience members in the Central Cross Theater, including Leon and the Princess, who had already rushed into the exit passage, shuddered in unison.

Subsequently, to the terror of the audience, they not only lost control of their bodies, but their skin and flesh began to lose their human appearance, rapidly petrifying into wood-like forms.

And a multitude of completely invisible lines quietly descended from the azure sky above the harbor city, precisely tying to each joint of these three thousand-plus puppet-like bodies...

"This should do it."

Taking a deep breath of the fresh yet slightly salty sea breeze, gazing at the serene and beautiful harbor town before him, and the three thousand-odd "residents" living tranquilly within, Master Wilde finally revealed a satisfied smile on his weary face, and his right hand, just raised towards the audience, came down heavily.

"'Twelve Days' Journey,' Act One, Scene One, begin!"