The moment Orion Locke put on the Mask of the Faceless, an invisible stream of black mist emerged from his body and gathered in midair.
The darkness twisted into the grotesque outline of a human face, and Orion immediately recognized the little girl he had accidentally killed during the failed hostage rescue six months earlier.
The apparition struggled violently as though resisting an irresistible force, but its efforts accomplished nothing.
A second later, the entire mass was dragged directly into the mask.
“Buzz!” A ring of golden light flashed across the deep blue-green surface of the Mask of the Faceless, illuminating the faint hexagonal patterns hidden throughout the material.
The golden glow traveled across the artifact only once before disappearing, but when it faded, the mask appeared subtly cleaner and newer than before.
Whatever had been attached to Orion had apparently been absorbed completely.
“Hah…” Orion slowly exhaled as an extraordinary sense of relief washed through his mind.
The heavy gloom that had followed him for six months vanished almost instantly, leaving him feeling as though a storm that had covered the sky for days had finally broken apart under sunlight.
Even with Fearlessness suppressing unnecessary emotion, Orion could clearly recognize the genuine satisfaction rising inside him.
“As expected.” His earlier suspicion had been correct.
The Mask of the Faceless possessed resistance against mental interference, and the black mist it had just removed was almost certainly responsible for the recurring nightmare that had invaded his sleep every night since the hostage incident.
His evolution to Life Level 2 had given him far greater control over his brain and nervous system, yet even that hadn’t allowed him to suppress those dreams, proving the cause had never been ordinary psychological guilt.
Two possibilities immediately entered Orion’s mind.
The first was that the dead little girl herself had been abnormal and somehow transformed into a ghost or similar entity after death, attaching herself to him out of hatred.
The second was that her family possessed connections to something supernatural and had deliberately placed the effect on Orion after the incident.
The latter possibility wasn’t completely unreasonable.
The hostage’s family had possessed enough influence to pressure the Navy and ensure Orion’s career ended despite a senior officer arguing on his behalf.
If they were connected to the hidden world that apparently contained Aberrations, anomalous artifacts, and other unexplained phenomena, then a supernatural form of retaliation was entirely possible.
The method was also far crueler than it appeared.
Preventing someone from receiving proper sleep night after night might sound harmless compared with bullets or knives, but an ordinary person subjected to months of constant nightmares could suffer severe physical and psychological collapse.
Eventually, exhaustion and mental deterioration alone could destroy them.
“Looks like I may have another enemy hiding somewhere.” Orion calmly memorized the possibility.
He had no intention of hunting anyone based solely on suspicion, but if someone had deliberately cursed him, he would eventually find out who they were.
In Orion’s view, retaliation was simple: if someone tried to destroy him, he would return the favor.
Standing before the bathroom mirror, Orion studied his reflection behind the Mask of the Faceless.
A faint blue glow remained visible in his pupils, but with the artifact’s negative effects removed by the Black Book, his thoughts stayed completely under his own control.
He then decided to verify one final aspect of the mask’s protection rather than trusting assumptions based only on what he had observed during the fight with the Collector.
Orion performed a brief controlled durability test against the mask.
The impact left the artifact completely undamaged, and even the transferred force was reduced to little more than a faint vibration against his head.
The result confirmed something extremely important: the Mask of the Faceless didn’t merely prevent penetration but also absorbed or dispersed most of the impact that would normally travel through the material.
“Good.” With a thought, Orion dismissed the artifact.
The mask vanished from his head and returned directly to the Black Book, leaving no trace behind.
Its ability to appear and disappear instantly made it even more practical than ordinary armor because Orion never needed to physically carry it.
“Aba… aba…” The bedroom door opened, and Hannibal entered wearing an oversized apron while carrying a tray loaded with breakfast.
Despite his enormous hands, the ogre had carefully peeled a dozen hard-boiled eggs and placed them beside a large glass of milk.
Orion picked up one of the eggs, dipped it into the small dish of seasoning beside the plate, and ate it in two bites.
Within minutes, all twelve eggs and the milk were gone.
Orion’s evolved digestive system processed food far more efficiently than an ordinary human body, rapidly breaking down the meal and converting it into usable energy and nutrients.
As Hannibal collected the empty dishes and turned toward the door, another idea suddenly occurred to Orion.
Could Hannibal use the Mask of the Faceless?
The thought was worth testing.
Both Hannibal and the mask had been formally recorded inside the Black Book, meaning there might be interactions between collected servants and artifacts that Orion hadn’t discovered yet.
With a thought, he summoned the mask directly onto the ogre’s head.
“Whoosh!” The artifact instantly adjusted itself around Hannibal’s grotesquely oversized skull.
His massive body became completely motionless as the dull expression normally present in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the same cold and emotionless focus Orion had experienced when using Fearlessness.
For several seconds, Hannibal looked less like a living creature and more like a gigantic machine awaiting instructions.
“Hm?” Orion suddenly realized that his connection to the mask remained completely intact.
More accurately, Hannibal and the artifact now felt like a single connected entity within his perception.
The control Orion normally possessed over the Mask of the Faceless extended directly into the ogre wearing it.
Then Orion’s vision shifted.
For an instant, he was looking at himself from Hannibal’s perspective.
Orion experimented carefully and discovered that he could control the ogre’s movements as naturally as moving his own arms or legs.
Hannibal stepped forward, turned, raised his hands, and performed several basic movements entirely according to Orion’s thoughts.
The ogre himself offered no resistance whatsoever.
More surprisingly, Orion could apply his own Combat Lv.4 knowledge while controlling Hannibal.
The mutant normally possessed only Combat Lv.2, relying mostly on brute strength and hunting instincts, but under Orion’s direct control, that massive Level 1 body could execute movements with far greater precision.
Hannibal’s combat potential therefore rose dramatically whenever Orion operated him through the artifact.
After several tests around the farm, Orion discovered another limitation.
Direct control worked reliably only within approximately one kilometer; once Hannibal moved beyond that range, Orion’s visual connection through the mask began breaking apart.
He could still command Hannibal normally through the Black Book, but the puppet-like control disappeared.
Even with that restriction, Orion was extremely satisfied.
Hannibal didn’t become a true clone because Orion wasn’t transferring his consciousness permanently into the ogre, but using him as a remotely controlled body was already extraordinarily useful.
If Orion ever needed to enter a suspicious building, test an unknown trap, or investigate something too dangerous to approach personally, he could potentially send Hannibal instead.
In practical terms, it was almost like having an extra life.
“Whoosh!” Orion recalled the Mask of the Faceless into the Black Book.
Hannibal immediately resumed his previous movement as though nothing unusual had happened, picked up the breakfast tray, and continued toward the stairs without displaying any awareness that Orion had just controlled his body.
Watching him disappear through the doorway, Orion couldn’t suppress a faint smile.
“I really hit the jackpot with that mask.” With everything finally settled, Orion returned to bed.
For the first time in six months, he no longer sensed the oppressive presence that had followed him whenever he attempted to sleep.
He closed his eyes and almost immediately entered a deep, peaceful sleep.
Two hours later, Orion woke naturally.
There had been no gunfire, no dead James, no blood-covered Barbie doll, and no little girl opening black eyes inside his dreams.
Two hours of uninterrupted rest left Orion feeling more refreshed than entire nights had during the previous six months.
His body was full of energy, his thoughts were clear, and even his normally restrained mood had improved considerably.
Orion brewed himself a cup of coffee and carried it outside.
He settled into an old wooden chair near the farmhouse entrance, quietly watching the morning sunlight stretch across the neglected fields and small lake.
For once, he allowed his thoughts to wander without worrying about missions, monsters, the Black Book, or whatever hidden world he had stumbled into.
The peaceful moment lasted only a short while.
Orion eventually turned his head toward the distant driveway after hearing an approaching engine.
A vehicle was making its way across the property, and his enhanced eyesight quickly identified the young woman sitting in the back seat.
Elena Peters.
“Hannibal,” Orion called without looking away from the approaching SUV.
“Go inside for now.” The ogre immediately obeyed.
Elena had already seen enough monsters for one week.
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