Section 1107: Blending into a Wisp of Wind

His attire was still that of a traditional noble gentleman, meticulous in every detail from his hat to his boots, from his waistcoat to his cane.

The only difference was that Sanders' complexion was paler than usual.

Could he be injured? Angel wondered silently.

Nevertheless, whatever the case, seeing Sanders indeed atop the iceberg, a weight in his heart lifted slightly.

"Whom do you hate? The stars and moon after a fervent kiss, the night after parting, or the watchmen who have betrayed you?"

The eerie tone, like absurd music, spread all around.

Earlier, while searching for Sanders, Angel had not paid any attention to the stage. Now, drawn by the strange intonation, he shifted his gaze toward the puppet show stage.

His expression instantly froze.

The peculiar white doll's Phantom Shadows, the nearly invisible silk threads, the illusory stage, and the eye-piercing performance on it.

Everything was so bizarre, even absurd.