Beneath the Mask, Chen Xing's Codename

Suotuo City, South District.

Deep within an inconspicuous alley stood an even more inconspicuous little shop.

A crooked wooden sign hung over the door, its nearly peeled lettering reading: Masks.

Just two words. Any more would have been a waste.

Han Yuchen pushed the door open.

Jingle.

A gust from the door stirred up a cloud of dust, making it dance in the dim light.

The air was thick with the strange mixed smell of wood, paint, and some cheap perfume.

A skinny old man was dozing behind the counter, his drool nearly dripping onto the ledger.

Han Yuchen ignored him.

His gaze swept across the masks hanging on the walls.

They were far too gaudy.

They were practically visual pollution.

What the hell was this? A blue-faced, fang-toothed demon? Was anyone wearing that into a match afraid their opponent wouldn't die laughing?

And this one looked like the painted face of an opera actress, with several fake rhinestones that looked like they had been bought from Pinduoduo for 9.9 with free shipping embedded at the corners of its eyes.

It was low-class to the core.

Han Yuchen's gaze finally settled on a dusty wooden rack in the corner.

There lay a mask.

The simplest sort of silver metal mask, without any patterns.

Its design was sleek, covering just the upper half of the face from the brow ridge to the bridge of the nose, leaving only the eyes and a sharply defined jaw exposed.

This one.

He reached out and took the mask down.

It felt icy cold in his hand, and the quality was unexpectedly good.

"Ahem."

The old man behind the counter woke up and squinted his cloudy eyes at him.

"Kid, you've got a good eye."

"That one is made from meteorite iron. Fire and water can't harm it."

"Fifty Gold Soul Coins. No bargaining."

Fifty gold? What a robbery.

The cost of this piece of junk was at most five Silver Soul Coins.

Han Yuchen couldn't be bothered to waste words with him.

He pulled five Silver Soul Coins from his pocket and, with a clatter, piled them directly on the counter.

The old man froze.

He had expected the kid to haggle, but instead, he had been so decisive, offering exactly the price the old man had been hoping for.

When he looked at Han Yuchen again, there was something more in his eyes.

This kid wasn't as simple as he appeared.

Han Yuchen put on the mask.

The fit was perfect.

His field of vision was completely unobstructed.

The cold touch of metal made the indifference belonging to the Starlight Ruse King within him seem even more concentrated.

The simpler something was, the harder it was to define.

Only a blank sheet of paper could let others imagine whatever they wished.

This is the sense of mystery I want.

He turned and pushed open the door, leaving without another unnecessary word.

Only the old man remained, clutching the silver coins with a complicated expression.

Soto Grand Soul Arena.

Even in broad daylight, it was like a giant beast forever worked into a frenzy, exhaling noise and fervor.

The air was filled with the mingled scent of sweat, alcohol, and hormones.

Deafening cheers seemed ready to blow off the entire dome.

Han Yuchen passed through the crowded throng and arrived at the registration area.

The person in charge of registration was a young woman in her early twenties.

She wore heavy makeup and a professional fake smile, but the impatience and disdain in her eyes could not be hidden.

Every day, she had to receive countless poor brats like Han Yuchen, all dreaming of rising to the top in one step.

"Registering for soul duels?"

Her voice was quick and shrill, as though she were shooing away flies.

"Name, age, Martial Soul, level."

Han Yuchen's voice sounded somewhat cool through the mask.

"Chen Xing."

"Twelve."

"Tool Spirit."

"Level twenty."

Upon hearing twelve years old and level twenty, the young woman's eyes nearly rolled into the sky.

A twelve-year-old level-twenty Soul Grandmaster?

Who was he trying to fool?

Even if it were true, he would just be a rookie who had only just obtained his second soul ring.

Coming here was practically suicide.

Her attitude grew even more impatient.

"Gambling Arena or Beast Arena? One-on-one or two-on-two?"

"Hurry up. There are people waiting behind you."

"Gambling Arena. One-on-one."

The young woman quickly scribbled on the form, her movements perfunctory.

Without even looking up, she tossed him a black iron token.

"Take it and wait in the western preparation area."

"If you die, we won't be responsible for collecting your body."

Another self-important NPC.

Han Yuchen took the iron token and turned to leave.

The young woman watched his back with a disdainful curl of her lips, then muttered quietly to the colleague beside her.

"Another one here to die. And he's some little brat wearing a lousy mask, pretending to be mysterious."

"I bet he won't last ten seconds."

The preparation area was a chaotic mix of all sorts.

Brawny men with knotted muscles, gaunt men with sinister eyes, ruthless figures carrying the scent of blood.

Everyone watched every potential opponent around them with guarded eyes.

Han Yuchen's arrival was like a little white rabbit stumbling into a wolf den.

His lean frame and plain cloth clothes made him stand out starkly among the fierce-looking soul masters.

He found a corner and leaned quietly against the wall, as though he were isolated from all the surrounding noise.

Inside his pocket, the Star Fox poked out her little head, her emerald eyes full of curiosity.

Before long, a mechanical, booming voice sounded from the broadcast.

"Next match, one-on-one Gambling Arena soul duel!"

"The tyrant with ten consecutive victories, the Iron Arm Bear—Iron Hammer!"

"Versus—"

The announcer seemed to hesitate, clearly puzzled by the unfamiliar name.

"Newcomer, Chen Xing!"

Boom!

The entire preparation area instantly erupted in laughter.

"Iron Hammer? Hahaha, that newbie is really unlucky!"

"Running into that madman Iron Hammer in his first match? He's going to get smashed into a meat patty!"

"I bet he can't even force out Iron Hammer's Martial Soul Avatar!"

Amid the gleeful chatter.

A burly man built like an iron tower rose with a savage grin.

He stood over two meters tall, his muscles bulging like granite and brimming with explosive strength.

He was Iron Hammer.

A level-twenty-six Assault System Soul Grandmaster with the Iron Arm Bear Beast Spirit.

He walked up to Han Yuchen and looked down at him from above, his enormous shadow completely engulfing Han Yuchen.

"Brat."

His voice sounded like two iron plates grinding together, coarse and grating.

"Kneel down now and give me three kowtows. Then I'll let you break a few fewer bones!"

Han Yuchen slowly raised his head.

Beneath the silver mask, his deep eyes were as still as an ancient well.

He said nothing.

To everyone else, his silence meant he had been scared stupid.

Heh, another idiot who relies on brute strength.

Pure strength is the greatest Restraint against technical fighters like me.

Mm, this script is familiar.

Not bad for an appetizer.

"Let's go."

Han Yuchen walked past him and headed straight for the passage leading to the Soul Dueling Platform.

That calm, unconcerned attitude made Iron Hammer's savage grin freeze instantly.

He felt ignored.

Ignored by a little bug in his eyes!

"You little bastard, you're courting death!"

Iron Hammer's eyes instantly turned bloodshot.

On the Soul Dueling Platform, the spotlights were blinding.

The host roared in a highly stirring voice.

"Let's welcome Suotuo City's heavy hammer, who has already achieved ten consecutive victories! Iron Hammer—!"