"Rasto, thank you for introducing me to the business," the teddy bear puppet said, weaving through the candles and nodding its cotton-filled head at the drinking doctor.

  "Cut the chatter and hurry up," the doctor replied impatiently, lying down next to the old woman's rocking chair.

  The teddy bear turned its head toward Charles. "Can you crouch down? I can't take your measurements while you're standing like that."

  This was a first-time experience for Charles; he hadn’t expected that the mysterious arts could be applied in such a way. No wonder the doctor had mentioned that this puppet could craft prosthetics on Blackleaf Island.

  The teddy bear first pulled out a pair of scissors from its belly and cut open the empty sleeve of Charles's left arm, then retrieved a flexible measuring tape.

  "I heard you managed to get Rasto on board the ship? How did you do it? He doesn’t seem like the type to move easily," the teddy bear asked while measuring the stump of Charles's arm.

  "Do you know him?"

  "Of course! Did you see his face? I drew it! You want to know anything about him, just ask me. I know him well."

  "Cough, cough!" The doctor cleared his throat.

  Charles glanced at him and chose not to engage further with the teddy bear's chatter.

  After about ten minutes, the teddy bear stopped, put the measuring tape back into its belly, and said to Charles, "Since you're the captain of an exploration ship, do you need any weapons added to your prosthetic?"

  Charles recalled the various medical instruments on the doctor’s prosthetic.

  "What can be added without affecting sensitivity?"

  "Oh, plenty! Guns, gas, universal lockpicks—whatever you want! Of course, these modifications come at an extra cost, and your pockets need to be heavy with echoes."

  After learning about the various modifications and their prices, Charles ultimately decided to add a chainsaw and a grappling hook to his prosthetic. These were the most basic options but suited him best for now.

  As for other options, it wasn't that Charles didn't want them; it was just that the base arm alone cost 3 million echoes. If he didn’t save some of his 5 million echoes, he might not have enough for fuel for the next voyage of the *Unicorn Whale*.

  Taking the check with its frayed edges from the teddy bear's paw, the puppet counted the zeros carefully before tucking it back into its belly. "Very well, your prosthetic will arrive soon."

  "How long will it take?"

  "I have your data now. I still have some stock for the left arm, so I’ll adjust it and send it over immediately. Rasto told me about you; since you’re his friend, you’re my friend too. I can’t neglect a friend’s matters."

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  Just as the teddy bear finished speaking, its body went limp and it collapsed to the ground, motionless.

  The old woman shuffled over and picked up the puppet, placing it into a cloth bag.

  Then, she knelt down and began meticulously cleaning the magical circle on the floor with a short mop made of ragged cloth.

  Once the circle was cleaned, the old woman began to draw a new, larger, and more complex magical formation, this time placing a box in the center.

  Reflecting on what the teddy bear had said, Charles settled his thoughts and patiently waited. He had already figured out how his prosthetic would be delivered.

  The old woman began chanting the previously incomprehensible incantations again, and the magical circle on the ground started to emit a faint glow, writhing as if alive.

  When the incantation ended, all the strange phenomena in the room vanished. The box opened, and the old woman walked toward Charles, holding a silver arm.

  Just like how boys love guns and cannons, Charles was instantly enamored with the prosthetic at first sight.

  Compared to the doctor's prosthetic, this one had no outer shell, exposing the large gears and glimmering pistons. Rather than being unattractive, it exuded a captivating steampunk aesthetic.

  The end of the prosthetic had several metal-tipped cones, which appeared to be hollow.

  "Extend your hand! What are you waiting for? This thing is heavy!" the old woman complained.

  "Hang in there," the doctor suddenly lifted his head to remind him.

  Charles took a deep breath and aligned the stump of his arm with the prosthetic. The metal cones on the prosthetic began to spin rapidly, and flesh splattered as they burrowed into his blood and muscle, sending a jolt of intense pain through him.

  When the prosthetic stopped moving, Charles, sweating from the effort, lifted his new left arm and found that it was completely still.

  "You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? We still need a couple more things," the old woman said leisurely as she pulled out two glass jars from her cloth bag.

  Inside the jars swirled a greenish smoke, constantly shifting.

  Noticing the confusion on Charles's face, the old woman smiled and shook one of the jars. As she did, the smoke inside transformed, revealing a faint, screaming green face.

  "Hehehe, you’ve never seen this before, have you? This is a human soul, used to connect your soul with this hand."

  With a "thud," the jar was opened, and the green smoke quickly drifted into the prosthetic.

  Once the smoke fully integrated, the gears inside the prosthetic began to whir, and the purple inscriptions on the gears glowed faintly. Charles felt his left hand again.

  He opened and clenched his fist, and the prosthetic moved swiftly in response to his thoughts.

  The old woman handed him a small booklet, her demeanor as warm as a grandmother handing candy to a child. "Take this! It’s the instruction manual. Remember to drip whale oil according to the schedule. If there are any issues with your hand, you can come back to me, and I’ll help you send it back for repairs."

  Charles accepted the booklet with a complex expression, glancing at the empty glass jars as he stood up with the doctor and headed for the exit.

  In the streets of the port area, Charles began testing his new left arm.

  "Clang!" The vicious chainsaw blade shot out from his wrist, spinning rapidly at his mental command.

  Just by observing the astonishing speed of the chains, he could tell the power of this thing was formidable; he even felt its cutting strength surpass that of the Black Blade.

  "Click, click, click." Charles watched as his left palm opened up, and a grappling hook with a chain shot out, latching onto the chimney of a building across the street.

  With another mental command, the gears in the prosthetic whirred, and the chain retracted, pulling him rapidly toward the rooftop.

  With this addition, even in places where he couldn’t leverage himself, he now had a way to move.

  But the most astonishing part was the sensitivity of the prosthetic. As he reached out, the Black Blade danced in response to his fingers, leaving trails in the air.

  No wonder it cost 3 million echoes; this prosthetic was even more sensitive than his original hand.