The man's face twisted in fury and desperation.
If he was going to die—
He would not do it alone.
His eyes burned with unstable yin energy as he forced his remaining qi inward.
The signs were immediate.
His aura destabilized.
The pressure in the air shifted.
Not toward attack.
Toward collapse.
Self-destruction.
A final burst meant to annihilate everything within range.
"Then we all go," he growled.
His body trembled violently as he attempted to trigger the internal detonation.
The fox's gaze sharpened instantly.
"No."
Her hand moved in a subtle blur.
Something flashed through the air—thin, nearly invisible.
Needles.
Dozens of them.
They struck with surgical precision.
Into his head.
Across specific meridian points.
Sealing pathways.
Cutting off the flow of destructive energy before it could spiral out of control.
The man froze.
His eyes widened.
His qi faltered.
The self-destruct sequence collapsed before it could begin.
He staggered, breathing harshly.
Blood dripped from the punctures where the needles had entered.
The fox lowered her hand slowly.
"…That's not happening."
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
Not triumphant.
Just certain.
"You were trying to self-destruct a puppet."
Her turquoise eyes narrowed slightly.
"Do you really think we wouldn't notice?"
The man's expression changed.
For the first time, there was something like understanding in it.
Not of defeat.
But of exposure.
He was not merely a cultivator.
Not simply a puppet controller.
He had been a puppet himself.
The needles had struck hidden seals embedded in his body—subtle control marks binding him to something greater.
Something watching.
Something directing.
The fox stepped closer.
"Puppets are predictable."
Her gaze flicked toward the collapsed corpse puppet nearby.
"They move when ordered."
"They attack when commanded."
"And when cornered…"
She tilted her head slightly.
"They try to destroy the evidence."
The man's lips trembled.
"You—"
His voice broke.
He tried to move.
The serpents tightened further.
Bones groaned under the pressure.
The fox continued, voice quieter now.
"We knew."
No anger.
No gloating.
Just fact.
"You were never acting alone."
Her turquoise eyes gleamed faintly.
"That means you were never the true threat."
The lizard remained still atop the largest serpent, ears twitching faintly as it mapped the remaining movement.
No more aggression.
No unnecessary force.
Contain.
Observe.
The man swallowed hard.
His earlier confidence was gone.
"What… are you?"
The question hung in the air.
The fox smiled faintly.
"Someone who doesn't underestimate their prey."
The needles in his head continued to suppress every attempt at self-destruction.
He trembled.
Not with strength.
With realization.
If he was a puppet…
Then whatever controlled him would notice his failure.
And that knowledge—
Was far worse than death.
The fox studied the man as he hung trapped within the serpents' coils, needles still sealing his self-destructive seals.
She tilted her head slightly.
"…You don't look like it," she said calmly.
"But you are a corpse puppet."
The man's eyes twitched.
A flicker of defiance.
The fox continued, voice matter-of-fact.
"It's obvious."
Her gaze swept over him, sensing the unnatural density of yin energy clinging to his meridians.
"Yin qi saturation. Death energy."
Not the faint traces of battle.
Not residual cultivation damage.
Something deeper.
Structured.
Like the energy that animated the earlier puppet—but woven into a living body.
"You cultivate death aspects," she said.
"Or someone cultivated them into you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"That makes you a corpse in function."
The man's jaw tightened.
"I am no—"
The fox cut him off.
"You are."
No mockery.
No exaggeration.
Just diagnosis.
"You move."
"You speak."
"You think."
Her turquoise eyes gleamed faintly.
"But your qi structure is wrong."
She lifted one hand and gestured toward the sealed meridian points the needles had struck.
"Those seals aren't just stopping self-destruction."
Her tone cooled.
"They are revealing what you are."
The man's breathing hitched.
The serpents held him firm.
The village remained silent.
The fox continued.
"Most corpse puppets are mindless."
Her gaze flicked briefly to the severed puppet head nearby.
"Commands. Reflexes. No autonomy."
A pause.
"But you?"
She looked back at him.
"You have independent thought."
Her lips curved faintly—not in amusement, but recognition.
"That means you have a soul."
The man's pupils constricted.
"Or at least…"
She tilted her head.
"…a fragment of one."
The implication hung in the air.
Corpse puppets without souls were tools.
Shells.
Refined bodies animated by external control.
But independent thought…
That was different.
It required something inside.
Something still capable of awareness.
The man's expression wavered.
"No…"
His voice cracked.
The fox's eyes hardened.
"It doesn't matter if you deny it."
She stepped closer.
"The yin qi isn't lying."
Her tone was quiet.
"You are bound to death energy."
"Your body functions as a vessel."
"And vessels can be commanded."
The man swallowed hard.
For the first time, fear replaced rage in his gaze.
Not of death.
Of understanding.
If he was a corpse puppet…
Then someone had done this to him.
And if someone had done it—
They could do worse.
The fox studied him a moment longer.
Then turned slightly.
"Little white."
Her voice was calm.
"Keep him contained."
The serpents tightened just enough to enforce obedience without crushing.
The man shuddered.
The night air settled.
And the truth of the situation remained—
He was not merely defeated.
He was exposed.
The fox took a slow step forward.
Her turquoise eyes never left the man's face.
"…I'm going to search your soul."
Her tone was calm.
Not threatening.
Not dramatic.
Just fact.
If he truly was bound to death energy—if fragments of a soul remained—she could extract information.
Puppet networks.
Control structures.
Who commanded him.
The serpents tightened slightly to keep him secure.
The needles in his head continued suppressing any last attempts at resistance.
The man's jaw clenched.
His eyes burned with something like defiance.
"You won't—"
He cut himself off.
Because his own body betrayed him.
The light in his gaze flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
Not gradually.
Not fading.
Snuffed.
His pupils remained open—but empty.
Lifeless.
No focus.
No awareness.
The change was immediate.
The fox stopped mid-step.
Her expression sharpened.
"…Ah."
She crouched slightly, studying him.
No breathing.
No subtle movement.
No qi response.
The death energy that had clung to him moments ago now felt hollow—like an empty shell where something had been removed.
She reached out with her divine senses.
Cold.
Structured.
Searching.
Nothing.
No soul signature.
No fragment.
Not even the faint residual imprint a recently departed spirit would leave behind.
Just emptiness.
The fox exhaled slowly.
"So that is how it is."
Her voice remained even.
Someone had been watching.
She had sensed it earlier—subtle disturbances in the spiritual flow, like eyes hidden behind a veil.
Now the timing made sense.
The instant she announced her intent to search his soul—
The connection was severed.
Destroyed.
Cleanly.
Without backlash.
The man's body slumped within the serpents' coils.
Still animated in form.
But empty in substance.
The fox straightened.
"…His soul was taken."
No surprise.
Only analysis.
Someone had anticipated this.
Prevented information leakage.
Corpse puppets with fragments of souls were valuable sources of intelligence.
If the controlling force understood that—
They would eliminate the risk.
The lizard remained still, ears twitching as it mapped the sudden change.
No movement.
No heartbeat.
No spiritual response.
The target was no longer a threat.
Just a vessel.
"It is dead."
The fox glanced at it briefly.
"Good awareness."
Then back to the empty man.
Her expression cooled.
"Someone is observing."
Not paranoia.
Observation.
The timing was too precise.
The soul's destruction too clean.
A cultivator's soul did not simply vanish without residue.
Unless someone took it.
Or destroyed it deliberately.
Her turquoise eyes narrowed.
"…That means this was not isolated."
A network.
A structure.
A greater operation.
The corpse puppet.
The death energy.
The hidden controller.
All connected.
She folded her arms slowly.
"Interesting."
Not amused.
Not angry.
Interested.
Because this village had already revealed more than it should.
And now—
It had revealed that the true game was larger than any single cultivator.