Chapter 193 Are you a perpetual motion machine?
"What's your name?"

"Chuck."

"Then what's your name?"

"……I have no idea."

"What about you?"

"..."

On the slope leading up to the ground from the underground cave, all the Savior Army soldiers who came to protect Horn, as long as they were still able to breathe, were asked by Shilov for their names.

However, some answered, some were unwilling to answer, and some even treated it coldly.

Shilov was not annoyed. Regardless of whether there was an answer or not, she just sat quietly wagging her tail after asking the question.

"Did you make the brass claws on Ah Fu's wrists?"

“Yes, I designed it and polished it myself, but I can only modify it, I can’t build it myself.

The parts and iron ingots left by the original craftsmen are becoming fewer and fewer, and Ah Fu's blacksmithing skills are not up to standard, so it is becoming increasingly difficult to make new dolls. "

There is a special ramp from the underground cave to the first floor of the palace. It seems that the blood slave Afu usually pushes Shilov to the first floor in this way.

Pushing Shilov slowly forward, Horn and the others came to the lobby on the first floor. Through the mosaic windows, colorful light shone on Shilov, but she did not show any abnormality.

"By the way, how's Alfu? You didn't really kill him, did you?" Shilov looked at the hall where there were obvious signs of fighting. Her tail poked out from behind the wheelchair, occasionally sweeping across Horn's knees.

Horn coughed and said, "No, he just fell asleep. He was sleeping soundly."

"That's great, at least you're not dead." Shilov nodded. "Usually, it's Afu who takes care of me, but his cooking skills are terrible. Can you cook?"

"I'll deliver the food." Before Shilov could hear clearly, Horn changed the subject, "Did you build the mechanical stage in the hall yourself?"

"No, I just made some improvements." Shilov turned her head and looked at the stage in the corner of the hall, but her tail drooped. "This was originally a birthday gift given to me by the residents outside, but before it was built, my mother left and the residents were killed, so I had to complete this gift myself."

"Why?" Horn asked casually.

“My mother didn’t let me go out before, so when I got up in the evening every day, I could only sit on the second-floor terrace and look at the town over there.

Later, my mother passed away, and they all died. I didn’t want to see dead bodies all over the streets, but I couldn’t change my habit.

I reset all the dolls and replaced the original prince, knight and princess with villagers outside the town so that I can still look at them every day. "

Shilov looked at the mechanical stage in front of her, her expression remained unchanged.

Horn even suspected that she had never seen a living person, only a puppet, so her facial expressions were imitating the puppet's.

Seeing Shilov's ears drooping, Horn reacted and quickly changed the subject to the issue he was most concerned about.

"So what does this stage rely on to run?"

"Crank the handle." Shilov said as a matter of course.

"I'm asking where the power of the stage comes from, not how to start it."

Shilov's tail curled up like a question mark: "I don't understand. The power source of the stage is the crank."

"Are you kidding?" Horn leaned his head over her shoulder and looked at her face, but he could not see any emotion on that face.

Many of them are made of pure copper-clad iron, with cork and parts inside, not to mention the iron wheels and gears that drive them, which probably weigh several tons. Do they rely on hand cranking?

"If you don't believe me, I'll show you. Horn, push me to the side of the stage."

Hearing Shilov's sudden command-like words, Horn was stunned at first, and then realized that this was probably how she usually commanded the blood slave.

However, Horn still pushed her to the edge of the stage. Signaling Horn to let go, Shilov turned the wooden wheelchair and came to the back of the stage.

"Go to the front and take a look. It will be very beautiful." Shilov picked up the lubricant from the ground and her eyes paused curiously on the bloodstains on the edge.

Horn stood not far from her but did not move. First, he was afraid that she would suddenly run away by some means, and second, he wanted to see where the power source was. If he ran to the front and stayed there, he would just watch the show. "It's okay. I'll stand here. I like to see how it works."

"Well, okay." Shilov failed to persuade Horn, so she reached out and grasped the handle, "Watch it."

As Shilov cranked the handle, a series of subtle sounds of metal colliding were heard, followed by the sound of chains sliding.

No way? Horn's mouth gradually opened.

The gear that is bigger than a washbasin is actually turning!
Pleasant music sounded from the trumpet of the musician puppet. Through some unknown means, his fingers moved along with the gears and filaments, playing a melodious court dance music.

Impossible, absolutely impossible!
Horn took two quick steps forward and looked carefully at the gears that were larger than washbasins. They were actually rotating along with Shilov's arms.

Pulled by chains and gears, a white cloud rose into the sky from a corner of the stage along the track, and the swan dancer rotated on itself and revolved around the small tree on the stage.

Not to mention the white clouds painted on the heavy wooden boards, the joints and bones of the swan dancer are basically made of metal.

Dozens of large puppets, nearly a hundred small puppets, extremely complex stage props and chain tracks...

How could it be possible that it was Shilov's thin arm that drove all this?
“This doesn’t go against the laws of physics.”

Horn looked at the entire stage, his hair pulled into a mess, but he couldn't find the source of power.

He thought the clicking sound was a magical prop of Shilov's. She would take out some mysterious clock or magical engine and install it on the stage to drive the theater.

But everything in front of him told Horn that she was actually driving the stage with her arms...

Or is she a physical witch, driven purely by strength?
"Can I try it?" In order to verify this, after getting an affirmative answer, Horn went straight up and almost snatched control of the handle.

Turning the wheelchair to the back, Shilov's ears stood up, like a little girl showing off her toys, looking at Horn, the ignorant country pig.

Cranking the handle easily, Horn looked blankly at the stage in front of him.

It was still running, as if as long as he didn't let go, this miniature town would continue to run.

Is this some kind of magic trick? Is there a hidden engine somewhere? Or are there zombies running on a hamster wheel underneath?
"Does this make sense?" Releasing the crank, Horn slowly backed away. The music gradually stopped, and the puppets on the stage stopped moving together.

"What happened? What happened?" Just as Horn was doubting his life, Jeanne rushed in from outside with a battle flag.

"Brother, what happened—" Looking at Shilov sitting in a wheelchair with her tail wagging wildly, Jeanna stood in front of Horn, her face wrinkled, "Who is she?"

"Oh, she is the adopted daughter of a vampire, a wolf girl..."

"Let me tell you, let me tell you, I am Shilov, the wolf girl Shilov." After interrupting Horn's speech, Shilov answered and asked tentatively, "Are you really a woman?"

In the red warmth, Jeanna's aura continued to rise.

"That's not what she meant. She has never spoken to a normal person before." Putting his hand on Jeanna's chest, Horn hurriedly stopped her.

Seeing that Jeanna was still in a red-hot state, Horn could only tell her all about Shilov's life story, and only then could he calm Jeanna, who was on the verge of madness.

After hearing about Shilov's life background from Horn, the expression on Jeanna's face gradually changed from dissatisfaction to sympathy.

Especially after seeing Shilov's empty legs, a look of guilt and regret appeared on Jeanna's face.

"I'm sorry, Sister Shilov, I didn't know about your past. I thought..."

"Nothing. This is my first time seeing a real woman. I don't understand... Ah, I see. Are you taking my question as a mockery because women's secondary sexual characteristics are not as good as mine?" Shilov suddenly realized. "From a linguistic point of view, it is indeed possible to be misunderstood."

For the first time, Horn saw an expression on Jeana's face that was more painful than eating shit.

"Okay, okay, it's normal regardless of size. Sisters have a good foundation and there is still a lot of room for development."

After comforting Jeanne, Horn looked at Shilov again. He had almost forgotten about the mechanical theater after being interrupted by Jeanne and the others.

Clearing his throat, he turned to Shilov and asked, "I still don't understand. The gears on the mechanical theater are so heavy that it's difficult to lift them. How did you turn them with one hand?"

"Because that's a star-cast gear." Shilov was confused by Horn's question. "Isn't that what a star-cast gear is?"

(End of this chapter)