Isidora’s Theatre of Dolls [Reincarnated as a Painting in a World of Mysteries]

It was already afternoon. In the meantime, while Davis sat scratching his nib against the rough paper to draft their contract, Izzy split her consciousness to concentrate on an entirely different matter through her other puppet.

If she followed the schedule recorded on the black monument, she might find a different angle of the incident.

'So that is how it is...' Izzy and Isa controlled the small bird puppet, resting on a branch nearby, their bead-like eyes watching Lumber's movements below.

The massive lumberjack was lurking near the stone wall of the church school. By afternoon, the teacher had dismissed the classroom and told the children to complete their daily chores before they were permitted to return to their home.

Most of the young ones had already departed. The church grounds were fairly empty, with only a few lingering children playing, reciting words from the boards, or performing tasks like sweeping the stone steps and working on needlework.

“Otis,” Lumber called out, his voice flat, carrying no emotion in it.

“Yes, Mr. Smith!” one of the boys replied.

Lumber approached one of the boys who had been playing a game of hopscotch with his friends. The child was small and sun-tanned, his face smudged with dirt, yet his features were bright, his eyes lively and innocent.

“Your Ma is calling.”

“All right, Mister!” the boy chirped. “Good-bye! Everyone!”

Izzy watched through the bird's perspective as the large man escorted Otis down the winding path, guiding the boy back toward the village quarter.

'...'

Izzy sank back into the mindscape and approached the black monument again.

[“Otis went missing. Mary offered her help finding him.”]

'And the date of Otis's disappearance is today.'

Izzy narrowed her eyes.

'Lumber... What secrets are you hiding?' From the observed behavior, the man was undoubtedly the culprit behind the boy's abduction.

But the question was why.

'Isn’t the relationship between Mary and Opal quite friendly? Why would Lumber want to harm her child?’

She ran her fingers across the monument, searching the text for any overlooked details.

[“The golden little shit hates his guts and wants to deal with him.”]

'The Golden Trader?' she asked herself, a sudden chill running down her spine. ‘Does this mean Lumber and the Golden Trader… are on the same side?’

Although this was her mindscape, Izzy still felt the hair on her body stand on end.

‘What is wrong with this damn village?’ Izzy grimaced. There was too much going on in this. Too many secrets.

Her focus returned to the physical world as she guided the bird puppet to continue its pursuit.

‘Isa is guarding the mansion.’

At the moment, Isa was in charge of the attic. The monument had recorded that Erin would venture toward the attic today.

Isa also ensured that no invisible monsters approached the mansion grounds by manifesting her miniature spiritual projections, the Spiritsa. After all, the vile beasts were invisible to their Field Vision, so they had to deploy a real pair of eyes.

Izzy had already consumed the bone finger, so the mansion’s invisibility had likely disappeared. It was necessary for her to operate with maximum proficiency without the constraint of a depleted energy reserve holding her back.

In essence, the current distribution of their work was arranged thus:

Izzy controlled Arnold to conversate with Davis, while simultaneously guiding the bird puppet following Lumber through the village.

Isa directed the Spiritsa upon the mansion’s roof to act as observer, controlled Arriet to intercept Erin, and managed a second bird puppet waiting near the church.

There remained a final puppet slot, which was permanently occupied by Jack, the narrow-eyed vessel resting in the basement.

As for the mouse, it remained with Arriet. The girl gently stroked its back and fed it tiny crumbs of bread to pass the time.

'...'

“Isa is working, not idling around , Izzy!”

“Right.”

Maybe this was payback for the crow. Izzy sighed.

Regarding Erin’s matter, they could have confronted her much earlier using Arriet, but such an action might have had an unexpected butterfly effect on the mansion side.

Firstly, Erin needed to be caught in the act to receive a proper reprimand, and secondly, Izzy preferred to adhere strictly to the established timeline in the monument rather than risk charting an unknown path. They could not predict what deviations a sudden change might trigger.

Since no mistake had occurred at the mansion, she wished to mirror the previous iteration.

“Control the bird for me, Isa.”

“Okee.”

Izzy pushed the bird puppet to Isa and returned to Arnold's perspective.

“Junior, I’m done.” Davis's voice rang out in the dim snug, as the man handed the rough paper over to Arnold.

Davis’s handwriting, while not elegant, was at least readable enough.

“Mmm.”

Arnold nodded. He took the handwritten contract and raised it before his eyes, scanning the Alan script under the weak light.

For an unexpected reason, Izzy found herself capable of deciphering the words, though her translation was slow, relying on the lexicon preserved on the Black Monument.

—

The minutes passed in silence, broken only by Davis's anxious chatter and the sounds of drinking outside, while Izzy focused on the contract.

After a long duration, Arnold pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly to ease the growing ache behind his temples.

‘So basically, a Deceiver got deceived. How am I not surprised…’ He let out a low, weary sigh.

“What is the matter, junior? Does some discrepancy trouble you?” Davis asked with concern, leaning forward across the table while one leg hiked on the chair.

Arnold pointed to one line in the contract and asked carefully, “This clause here. Do you understand it?”

[“Clause 7, section 1. Both parties must not harm each other in any manner, under any circumstances, except upon the discovery of a breach, in which case the determination of punitive measures shall fall under the aggrieved party to ensure fairness.”]

[“Clause 8, section 1. In the event that this covenant is violated by the Contractor, an additional investigation shall be initiated. If the contractor is deemed to have breached the terms, the right to impose punitive measures shall rest at the sole discretion of the Contractee.”]

Of all the clauses listed in this contract, these two clauses were particularly problematic.

“Yes, naturally, junior,” Davis scratched his head, looking confused by Arnold’s question. “Should they violate the contract, we retain the right to exact retribution, do we not?”

“...” Arnold stared at him in silence.

At first glance, the document appeared as equitable as any standard trade agreement. Both parties were forbidden from committing acts of hostility; any breach would result in penalty, and clear recourse was outlined if the merchant defaulted. The terms did not appear overtly predatory to an ordinary reader.

There was, however, a singular point that was hidden within this phrasing.

“The term ‘additional investigation.’ Who will be the one conducting the investigation?”

Davis fell into contemplation, his expression turning serious as his finger circled on the table.

“The authority would fall to Madam and the priest. Those two hold the highest authority here, junior. In the worst case, Should the investigation fail to yield a result, the Golden Land will dispatch a representative of their own Symbol rank to arbitrate the matter.”

“That’s the problem.” Arnold sighed. “Do you place your faith in the Golden Land?”

“...” Davis hesitated. “But we retain the protection of... Madam...” his voice faltered, his tone losing its conviction.

It was logical for them to trust the contract, since they had no idea about the large conspiracy hidden beneath this village. To them, Madam and Victor were figures of authority. If those two approved the deal, then the agreement should have been safe.

However, Arnold had gone through two iterations to understand one very important point.

No one could be trusted.

“You haven’t met Madam for a decade.”

“...” Davis hesitated and said nothing.

“The priest is involved with a vampire. Madam is nowhere to be found. The Golden Land will probably sweep it under the rug.” Arnold explained, flattening his palm against the table. “Now, what do you think will happen the moment you are accused of breaching these terms?”

The covenant dictated that neither party could harm the other in any way, or else the violating party would be punished.

Yet, the contract was choked with many hidden underlying factors, designed to insulate the merchants.

Firstly, the document was written by the Golden Trader himself. He could easily manipulate the definitions to deny any allegation.

Secondly, a genuine investigation was an impossibility, given that every local authority designated to oversee the inquiry was either absent or aligned with the Golden Trader.

“I-I see the truth now,” Davis muttered, his eyes lit up, but not with excitement. “To think they concealed such a trap in plain sight, and I failed to detect them.” His body trembled, his face turned red, as anger, shame and humiliation fought for dominance in his expression.

Arnold guessed they had never even considered that a priest of the White Church could be so corrupted.

He tapped his chin, then asked again, “Can we ask the Inspectors for help?”

“The covenant explicitly forbids the involvement of external parties. Unless Father Victor, or another party wielding high authority, which includes Boss Danz, formally invites the Inspectors, they possess no right to intervene in our affairs.”

‘So Danz can be considered as well.’

As Arnold thought about that, Davis continued, “Besides, there is a chance we might be arrested, since we dealt with the Golden Land.”

‘Right.’

Arnold thought for a moment before asking, “When will the contract expire?”

“It’s… it’s today, on the 22nd of July, junior. The contract requires annual renewal, which means the Golden Trader is scheduled to meet with our Boss today to sign the extension,”

‘Today is the 22nd?’ Arnold tapped his chin.

The schedule was incredibly tight.

'Hold on. The 22nd?'

Arnold frowned. His body fidgeted slightly, and one leg began to shake restlessly beneath the table.

‘This number…’

For some reason, he felt uneasy about it.

'Then tomorrow is the 23rd. If I remember correctly, the secret space in the mansion's kitchen contains a bone finger, and we found a note with a drawing on it. That note bears the number 23.' Arnold narrowed his eyes.

'What does that number signify? Or is it merely a coincidence?' He turned the possibilities over in his mind, searching for any logical thread.

'Is it a warning that by tomorrow, the vile beast will become active within the forest?' He leaned back onto the wooden chair, his gaze fixing upon the half-empty water glass before him.

'Tomorrow is the day Mary is destined to disappear. Coincidentally, it is also the day we die in the first iteration.'

'In the second iteration, something befell us on the 22nd, resulting in the loss of our consciousness. After we awakened, the Rite commenced, and we died once more.'

The pieces of the puzzle slowly assembled themselves in his mind.

'Then does that mean July 23rd is the point where I am fated to die?'

He did not dare to pursue that line of speculation further. If it were indeed true, then the next, more troubling question would arise: how did the writer of the note possess such foreknowledge?

The questions continued to pile upon one another. Each time one inquiry was resolved, another immediately arose to claim its place. Arnold felt the familiar pressure of an encroaching headache settling behind his eyes.

“What course of action do you advise, junior?” Davis inquired, his voice laced with growing panic as he cut off Arnold’s thoughts.

'...' Arnold regarded Davis with a silent stare.

‘Even if you ask me, how do I know?’

For now, he decided to approach one matter at a time.

From the look of it, the Tear Drop had been thoroughly swindled. Even if Arnold were standing in their position, he had no clear strategy to untangle them from this situation.

“Who is stronger? The Golden Trader or Danz? Can Danz kill him?”

Davis abruptly stood up, puffing his chest outward.

“Naturally they pose no threat, junior. They stand no chance against Boss Danz!”

He smiled confidently, the earlier anxiety briefly replaced by pride. “Boss Danz has already measured their strength. The opposition consists of a mere three Stagefarers of the Apprentice Stage, which includes the Golden Trader himself. That man is a small fly, walking a Path entirely unsuited for combat!”

He continued excitedly, “Not to mention, half of our Tear Drop stand at the Entry Stage, supplemented by four at the Apprentice Stage and our boss at the Foundation Stage. How could they hope to defeat us? It is an impossibility!”

“Mmm.”

‘That’s reassuring,’ Arnold thought while tapping the table lightly. ‘I didn’t expect they would show up like that.’

A completely unrecorded party, who had barely been mentioned in the monument's records, was now suddenly emerging in the center of the board.

If this did not count as a critical variable, Arnold did not know what else to call it.

Fortunately, he had discovered him now.

‘Can I trust Danz to deal with them?’ Arnold’s eyes lifted.

Through the shared vision of the bird puppet Isa had stationed near the church, an event began to unfold.

‘They are later than I expected.’

The Inspectors had arrived at the church.

“Junior,” Davis said, his voice interrupting his concentration. “Might I take my leave? I’m concerned...”

Arnold leaned back against his chair, and crossed his legs in a relaxed posture. He offered a light nod of dismissal.

“Sure.”

“My thanks, junior,” Davis said, rising from the table and offering a polite bow. “The cost of the snug and our refreshments shall be settled upon my tab. I offer you my most gratitude for your guidance.”

Arnold nodded.

As Davis hurried to the rear door, Arnold tracked him using his Field Vision until the thin man’s figure disappeared.Then, losing interest in his departure, he shifted his attention elsewhere.

Inside his mind, Izzy smiled.

“The next domino has fallen.”

She sank deeper into the plush velvet chair of her grand theatre, crossing her legs and relaxing herself against the soft cushions.

Because something interesting would soon happen on the church side.