The Daily Life Of A Cyberpunk Magician

”Couldn’t be, right? If it were just suspended by silk threads, the pot this heavy would sway violently, wouldn’t it?” Another member glanced at him, continuing, ”I had thought of that earlier too. The movements of the paper figurines in the air are very steady, not like they are manipulated by threads; otherwise, the air conditioning in this hall would have them shaking.”

”Could it be that these paper figurines are actually alive?” The first audience member was somewhat defiant.

”Such a thing... surely that’s impossible?” His neighbor was not very sure of his own words, after all, the things Jiang Shu performed...

They were always about turning the impossible into reality, continually refreshing their worldviews.

Although Jiang Shu always made the audience believe in science, his performances were always unscientific.

The faceless man stared deeply at the pot of blood, then reached out with both hands to scoop up a handful of blood, before opening his hands and let the blood seep through the gaps in his fingers.

The blood trickled down, eventually becoming a few sparse drops, which fell upon the pool with a pattering sound.

The intervals between the blood drops lessened, but the sound of them falling grew louder, like a heavy hammer striking, echoing in the ears of every audience member, and just when it seemed about to become deafening, it abruptly stopped.

Suddenly, the entire hall fell silent.

Not a sound could be heard, silent as a graveyard.